#Urgh should I actually keep up with the fic or not is the question | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkhymns-fic · 3 years

Text

The Heart Asks

Incredible danger. A vicious hunger. She opened her eyes and was greeted to the sight of that oh-so-fascinating daemon arm hovering just over her face.

Claws so pointed and sharp, they could slice her into ribbons. And if that palm lowered anymore, it would touch her skin, eat her up until there was nothing left within her at all. Gone, completely erased.

“What is with that creepy smile of yours?”

Ah, and just like that, the illusion was broken.

Fandom: Tales of Berseria Characters/Pairing: Magilou/Velvet Crowe Rating: T Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: A really late fic for @talesfemslashweek ! I wanted to at least have one thing for it this year, even if it's a bit after the event. For Day 2: Brutal heat wave, or "don't push yourself!"

The truth was, she didn’t care about life all that much.

Magilou had always been the definition of careless, ever since her troupe days. Small and weak, exploited beyond her understanding, it was always said that a witch such as her couldn’t die. Not really. Wicked things like them always could brave through fires or hold their breath infinitely underneath deep waters.

So, when nothing could fatally harm them, it did not matter what they went through. Her burned palms, her filled lungs, the ache that hands left on her skin – these were all things that a witch could endure. She believed so, too.

Melchior had proved it. She could not die so easily, not even with what he had put her through in all those years. Not even if, at times, she wished it could be just a bit easier.

Yet when she found herself waking from such a heavy sleep, her limbs feeling like weights, her head completely aching, as if she had just been slammed into concrete over and over – she had to wonder.

Incredible danger. A vicious hunger. She opened her eyes and was greeted to the sight of that oh-so-fascinating daemon arm hovering just over her face.

The first thing she did was smile. Oh, this certainly was a sight indeed.

Admitting she was frightened was a bit of an understatement. But besides the terror running through her limbs, she also felt a certain sense of appreciation. After all, couldn’t one such as herself admire the river of power that coursed through that arm, its surface like that of volcanic rock, with magma brimming just underneath?

She had seen it done before – to daemons, the way such a great threat could squeeze the very life out of them and absorb their very essence. And Magilou had always been so eternally curious, forever drawn to this evil entity, to this promise of destruction-

“What is with that creepy smile of yours?”

Ah, and just like that, the illusion was broken.

That hand full of power, with its promise of wreaking chaos, soon reverted to a normal size, the white bindings fluttering in the air, tickling her nose before they were pulled away. Charred black winked out of existence, the painting of blood red through the cracks gone from her vision.

With the hand gone, she could then see Velvet seated just next to her, eyes narrowed.

“Oops,” Magilou whispered with a smirk. Her breath was weak, her arms still so heavy, but she paid it little mind. “Think you caught me at a… private moment.”

Velvet scowled as she wrapped the bandages around her arm. “The hell is the matter with you?”

“Oh, quite a lot actually. Thought you already knew this.”

Even as she tried to joke, she still winced, feeling a sharp sting at her side. It took her a few seconds more to understand that she was laid out on a bed, tucked in heavy covers, and was in an inn room that… well, had seen better days with the peeling wallpaper, and the cramped space. Certainly not her first choice in lodgings.

“I’m assuming you don’t remember what happened.” Velvet tied up the last of her bandages tightly, clenching her fist. She was seated on the bed with Magilou – which was also a bit on the small side – laying her head against the nearby wall it was shoved against.

“Let’s see…I was having a nice nap all by my innocent lonesome before you decided you needed a little midnight snack?” The witch was patting herself on the back for that one, except even her own laughter felt like it was stabbing tiny knives into her stomach. “Ow…” Still, she tried to sit up, the action proving harder to do than she would think…

“Not even if I was dying of starvation. And enough with hurting yourself.” Velvet turned to Magilou, the moonlight from the window nearby catching her eyes, like amber encased within. The woman was never a fan of being too close to people, so Magilou counted herself to be quite lucky to see a feature of hers so near, with little interruption.

“Oh, then what was that you were doing just now? Don’t tell me you weren’t tempted.”

“Doing what I could to finally wake you up!” Velvet hissed, the force of her words making her lean in, just a bit. It was enough to make Magilou flinch, which she immediately regretted. It was no fun if she revealed her fear right away like that.

However, she felt dim understanding just then. Her skirt of magical books no longer tied around her waist, noticing the tear in her outfit and the… oh, was that linen wrapped around her stomach. “Huh. Totally missed that somehow…”

“You idiot.” Velvet placed her head in her (non-daemon) hand, sighing deeply. “You go and get yourself a life-threatening injury from a therion and don’t even remember it. Why should I even be surprised at this.”

Magilou’s pointed ears perked at those words, blinking as she faced Velvet once more. “I’m sorry, what was that about life-threatening?” It seemed almost too surreal. Also, if I was in any real danger, I’d just get Bienfu to take the hit for me…

“It was worse than usual, but Laphicet did what he could and we were able to find a town nearby. Even Eizen, for all his blabbing, actually had some good information on how to keep you rested properly.”

Magilou traced the linen cloth on her with her right hand, pressing just against the tender area of her wound, making her shudder. She felt Velvet slap her hand away from the spot.

“Don’t poke it,” she said. “You’ll make it worse.”

“Fine, fine…” Magilou pouted.

She felt strangely vulnerable right now, bereft of even her hat. Without the rest of her outfit, she knew she just appeared like some eccentric woman with strange ears instead of a mysterious magician. She looked again at herself, clutched her hand over the blankets, then furrowed her brow. “But that doesn’t really explain why you were here and doing your whole devouring shindig.” Another smirk. “I always knew you had a taste for little old me.”

Velvet didn’t say anything at first. She was back to leaning against the wall, eyes directed to the window, pulling off her nonchalant look like it was nothing. Sometimes the ease of it made Magilou a bit jealous.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t explain much,” she finally answered, completely ignoring the rest of Magilou’s words. She was good at being frustrating herself, which made Magilou pout even further.

“Oh, come on. Just admit you wanted to eat me up already! Not like I’d be offended!” In fact, she’d be much more offended if Velvet didn’t want to eat her at all!

Then a harsh sound – Velvet’s hand slamming the wall, enough to make the wood shudder. “Urgh, you’re so annoying!”

Magilou blinked. She knew she had a habit of pissing Velvet off but, this was different.

“We were waiting around for days and you were still asleep! We have things to do and you wouldn’t wake up, so I…” Oh, was that a blush on her cheeks? But Magilou could barely enjoy Velvet’s embarrassment before the other woman turned away. “I thought threatening you would do the trick.”

“…While I was asleep?” Even Magilou was wondering about that one.

“I didn’t have many other options.”

Oh, wait. Now she remembered.

Something that should have been a routine fight had caught her off guard. It was said that overconfidence led to one’s downfall, but Magilou always had the wit to outlast any real tragedy, for certainly she had more intelligence than most.

But a miscalculation of a daemon’s fangs, sinking into flesh, seemed to have proven her quite wrong.

Even Rokurou had looked surprised, from what little memory she could recall, how he was momentarily taken out of his bloodlust, hands gripping tight to his daggers in the middle of their violent dance. She had heard a gasp from Eleanor, that poor little exorcist who didn’t even understand the breadth of her vocation, along with a hasty chant from Laphicet to her side. What a sweet boy he was. She only regretted not teasing him even more often than she did.

She hadn’t been able to see Eizen before blacking out, and remembered an amusing thought she had at that moment. Found a way to transfer his curse to me? Anything was possible. And if that were true, she couldn’t blame him in the slightest. At least he had someone to go home to.

And so, just before, just until she fell completely, she turned and hoped to see, hoped to see her and-

Well, that’s how she ended up here. In this bed, with Velvet still doing her usual glaring.

“So you were worried about me?” she hedged. It was always dangerous territory to ask Velvet such blunt questions, like walking up to a feral cat. But, one had to take a chance for maybe that same cat to start liking you, didn't it?

And it almost worked, Velvet shifting her eyes to gaze at her, for a moment. “I’m allowed to.”

“Oh, I’m not saying you shouldn’t.” Magilou grinned, happy to have found that little nick in her armor. Of course she would do all she could to examine it, to find the snatch that would let her see even more. “But you were by my side this whole time. You might as well have tried giving me a kiss of true love to wake me up.”

And strangely, Velvet didn’t scoff at the notion, or made a motion to leave. She looked at Magilou for a half-second longer, a lock of her hair tumbling over her ear, then turned away. “Idiot.”

“…Did you actually try to kiss me?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not hearing a no~!”

While Magilou thought about all sorts of devious things that a deamon such as Velvet could have done to her, she only wanted to know more. More teasing was always too addictive, always too fun to see the results of.

“Maybe you wanted to but were too shy, huh? Or…maybe you didn’t know how?” She grinned wickedly. “Is that why you used your scary daemon arm? I guess devouring and kissing are the same to you then.”

“Just stop talking already. I already told you why I did that!” Velvet sighed, the moonlight falling across her hair in silver streaks. “No one in their right mind would kiss you.”

“Hm, you have a point there.” Magilou nodded to that assessment. Then she cackled. “But I don’t think anyone in this room has a right mind to begin with.”

Another tease, and another moment where Velvet didn’t outright deny things. Instead, she growled out in an exasperated voice, as if she had been holding in the words for hours.

“If you want a kiss so badly, then why don’t you just take it?”

And so, in one of those rare moments, Magilou was rendered speechless.

Velvet was never as straightforward with things as she liked to believe about herself. Even when Magilou spoke in annoying rhymes or riddles, they both liked to dance around the subject.

Maybe for once, she could change that.

Holding the blanket in both hands, she finally let it go, then carefully shifted on the mattress to move closer to the dreaded Lord of Calamity, a title that would send excited shivers down anyone’s spine. And if it didn’t, such a person did not know much of anything, did they?

“Tell me, Velvet,” Magilou coaxed, leaning just a bit closer, enough to feel herself trapped in those eyes of hers. Amber that swallowed her whole and wouldn’t let go. “Why did you really come here and stay with me?”

A grimace, but Velvet didn’t move away. In fact, she moved closer in turn. “When you fell in battle, you called out my name.” A hand reached out, placed itself against the back of Magilou’s head, fingers threading through her hair. It was surprisingly gentle, but always that hint of strength beneath. “I didn’t like it.”

Ah yes, she did do that, didn’t she? Magilou remembered the way she said the name, like something precious, something that she could lose so easily.

She had always been so reckless, as witches often were. But perhaps now, she could try to be a little more cautious.

“Maybe I can say it in a way that you do like then…” she said, reaching for that hand of hers, wrapped in bandages. What will she find underneath all of that?

She couldn’t wait to see.

#tales of berseria #magivel #magilou #velvet crowe #talesfemslashweek2021 #fanfiction #oneshot

16 notes · View notes

hopeaterart · 3 years

Text

Evil Ozpin AU: Dinner with a bird

Context: Ozpin and Salem more or less swap place, it's a bit complicated. This fic is here to explain how it happened by way of Ozpin monologuing to a (still on Salem's side at the time) Qrow. There's some hints of Ozqrow in there. Like, you're definitely supposed get Vibes. For those unaware: here's my Evil/Swap!Ozpin.

"So... You're Salem's latest pawn." Qrow scowled, eyes narrowing at the monster sitting from across him. How he'd ended up sitting at the same table as Ozpin, also widely known as 'the Wizard', was a blur in his memory, and granted, not that great a story.

Went on a mission for Salem to find his base of operation, with the only info being that it was somewhere in the forests of Sanus. Had to go alone because Tai and Raven had their hands full with Yang and a pregnant Summer. Got caught by Ozpin's latest apprentice- a blond woman about his age with the ironic name of 'Goodwitch'. Letting himself be captured in order to get taken to Ozpin.

One trip to an old monastery latter, he was now separated from Harbringer, had Aura-suppressing manacles on his wrists (thankfully with no chains), and was sitting in front of the Wizard himself. They were on some kind of balcony with only a small table between themselves, and there was a plate on the table with bread on it that neither were touching.

"And you're the guy who's trying to burn down Remnant." He bit back. Ozpin sighed, silver eyelashes fluttering as he narrowed his eyes.

"Is that what my traitorous ex-wife told you?" Ozpin asks, smiling like a predator about to eat it's prey when Qrow's eyes widened in confusion. "I mean- she's not wrong, but Salem isn't exactly the hero of our tale."

"Wh- your ex-wife!?" Qrow exclaimed, before gritting his teeth. "You're lying." He accused Ozpin, who didn't even flinch at the accusation.

"So she didn't tell you." He observed. "Oh, what am I talking about? Of course she'd keep that hidden, that self-righteous hag." Ozpin hissed as he took one of the small bread. "Doesn't want to acknowledge me being a thing is her fault, after all." He opened his mouth, momentarily exposing too-sharp canines as he bit the bread in half. He stared in Qrow's eyes as he chewed, before swallowing. "It's garlic bread. An entrée before the main dish, if you will. I'm not going to poison you, erm... Qrow Branwen, is it?"

Qrow grit his teeth. "And I should believe you, because?"

"Sheer pragmatism on my part, really. We're eating the same food, and I am not interested in poisoning myself." Ozpin explained, shrugging as he finished eating the bread he had in hand. "'Poison damage' is not really the kind of pain I like."

Qrow raised an eyebrow at that. He'd heard stories of Ozpin letting anything and everything hurt him with ecstasy written all over his face, but hearing what seemed like confirmation was a bit... much. "Uh... so what's the deal? Why are you having me eat here with you instead of- oh, I dunno, locking me in some kind of torture dungeon?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty bird?" Qrow averts his eyes at that, his gaze landing on the plate of bread as his cheeks warm up. He hesitantly took one of the bread, shoving it in his mouth and chewing quickly.

He took another one, eating slower and actually savoring it this time as Ozpin turns to look at the scenery. The forest stretches beyond the horizon, any traces of Grimm hidden from sight. Qrow's not fooled, he knows the monastery probably hides a few nasty surprises. The marble-skinned weirdo in front of him is proof enough.

Credit where credit is due, whoever cooked this is a damn good cook. "Who made this?" He asks as he takes another bread. "Didn't expect you to have a five-star chief."

It was Ozpin's turn to be caught off-guard. "I'm... glad you like my cooking." What. Qrow stared at his third half-eaten bread. "Oh, don't be a baby. I have literal centuries of experience behind me, and my cycle of immortality is different from Salem's. Since I need sustenance, might as well be good at it."

"Still not entirely convinced you're not poisoning me." Qrow noted.

Ozpin groaned in exasperation. "If I wanted to kill you, there's a myriad of ways that would be easier and less-headache inducing than this." Ozpin snapped as he got up and started walking away. Qrow turned to look at him as he went behind his chair, before going rigid as cold fingers dug into his shoulders. "Stay there. I'm getting the side and main courses."

Ozpin left the balcony in a puff of smoke, and Qrow let out a breath he didn't knew he was holding. He reached inside his jacket, relieved to see his Scroll was still there. Only for his mood to immediately crash when he realized that this part of Vale didn't get reception.

"Trying to call for help, are you?" Qrow whirled around, scowling when he saw Goodwitch. "I'm telling you now, it's not gonna work. Ozpin has taken precautions."

"What, precautions against modern tech!?" Qrow snapped, getting up as his chair rattled. He didn't care if Goodwitch had one of the most powerful Semblances he'd ever seen while he couldn't even activate his Aura right now. He brought misfortune wherever he went, made sense his shit Semblance would turn against him one day. "Does the guy think we still live in the Dark Ages?"

Goodwitch bristled. "Why, you insufferable- Ozpin is trying to offer you a chance to redeem yourself from working with Salem, and you're squandering it for-"

"Glynda." Both stilled as Ozpin came into view. There was a disappointed frown on his face. "That's no way to treat guests."

"But sir-"

"No buts, young lady." Ozpin reprimanded, waving his fingers as floating plates, glasses and a bottle of something came into view. "Help me with putting on the table, will you?" He asked Glynda, who nodded and took the two plates with food on them to put on the table. "Sit back down, Qrow."

"Don't call me that." The huntsman hissed even as he sat back down. He glared at his plate, which had fish and some kind of salad and... something else in it. He raised his head slightly as the bottle landed on the table, Ozpin dismissing Glynda with a 'thank you' before sitting back down. He pointed at the weird stuff. "What is that?"

"Oysters." Ozpin told him. "I opened them earlier, they're all good. Do you know how to eat them?" Qrow shook his head. "Alright, so first you need to loosen them up..." Qrow followed Ozpin's instructions, pulling a face after eating his first one. Ozpin frowned. "Don't like it?"

"Texture's weird." Ozpin hummed, before taking the bottle and popping the cork off and pouring Qrow a glass.

"It's champagne. Laurent-Poirier. Goes well with oysters, use it to wash them down." Qrow nodded, taking the flute and taking a small sip. "Not a fan of alcohol?"

"Opposite, actually." He started, remembering how his father got after too many bears. "Runs in the family." Ozpin thankfully didn't push the subject, simply turning toward his own plate and taking a bite of his salad.

The two ate in silence for a while. Ozpin opened his mouth again as Qrow tried his second oyster. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Does it matter if I say no?"

"No, but you don't have to answer it." Qrow nodded. "How did you end up working for Salem? I thought the Branwen were a bandit tribe from Mistral?"

Qrow hissed in between his teeth. "I... me and Raven, we... Our parents, they- urgh. Look, all that matters is: we're not going back, and we're never going back."

"Raven..." Ozpin seemed deep in thoughts, as if he was trying to remember something. "That's your sister, right?"

"Yeah." Something occurred to Qrow. "Say, the whole reincarnating wizard thing. You used to be, like, a regular, not-Grimm person, right?"

"That's one way of putting it, but yes." Ozpin answered. "I used to be mortal."

"Did you have siblings? Before the whole..." Qrow made a vague gesture in the other's general direction. Ozpin stilled at that, a faraway look on his face.

"No, none by blood. I grew up in the mountains with only my parents before obtaining my powers." He answered. "I... did have someone I considered my sister, but I was already well into becoming what I am now when I met her." The look on Ozpin's face was absolutely miserable. "Salem killing her pushed me over the edge."

"... Ah." Qrow took a sip of his champagne. "That sucks. Sorry for your loss."

Ozpin waved a hand. "I- it's fine. You're not the one who blasted her with magic for the crime of trying to help me stay me." He quickly ate an oyster, seemingly cheering up. "Anyway, my turn to ask you a question!"

Qrow snorted despite himself. "What is this, 21 questions?"

"My crush is no one, if you're wondering." Ozpin joked, before straightening in his chair. "What did Salem tell you about me?"

Qrow shrugged as he cut some of his fish. "You want to burn down Remnant. You can do magic. Whoever you reincarnate in dies the moment you come into the picture. You started the whole thing with Salem. And she doesn't know how to stop your cycle."

Ozpin hummed. "I see. Your turn."

"How... much of what I told you do you agree with?" Between the ex-wife comment and the very real grief he had when talking about his sister, it was clear had a different version of the events. Besides, the monster Salem had described to him wouldn't simply sit him down to talk.

Ozpin hummed, a piece of fish on his fork as he waved it in the air. "I do want to do some burning, but it's more 'everything Salem ever worked for' than Remnant. Come on, Qrow, I live here. And I'm stuck here." He ate his fish. "If I really wanted to destroy Remnant, I'd simply use the Relics."

He hummed. "Yeah, that's fair- wait. You know where the Relics are!?" The amount of people that were on wild goose chases to find them... And this whole time, Salem's sworn enemy could get to them the moment he decided to stop playing around.

"Of course I know where they are. I'm the one who hid them in the first place." Ozpin noted. "Can't have Salem blowing up my body with the Sword again... urgh, retrieving it and the Lamp was such a pain!" Qrow numbly nodded. "Anyway, you wanted to know about my magic?"

"Uh-" Ozpin snapped his fingers, whisps of green and gold rising from them as pitch black eyes burst into green flames. Like a Maiden's. "Oh shit!"

Ozpin smiled as the magic faded, Qrow numbly realizing there were brown irises somewhere in those pools of tar. "I can. And unlike Salem, I'm willing to share."

"You- you're the guy who created the Maidens!?" The fairytale explaining their origin spoke of an old, cruel magician, who took four sisters under his wing and taught them how to use magic.

"Ah, yes." Ozpin spoke with fondness. "The first Maidens. They reminded me of the first daughters I had, and they were so very loyal to me... loyalty deserves to be rewarded, don't you think?"

Qrow frowned. "Is that why they keep turning against Salem when she finds them first? Something to do with your magic?"

"What- no!" Ozpin exclaimed, clearly offended. He then frowned in confusion. "I think. If it is a thing, then it wasn't intentional." A pause as Ozpin downs his flute, before pouring himself more champagne. "Anyway, my reincarnations..."

Qrow raised an eyebrow as Ozpin downed more champagne. "Sensitive point?"

"More angry about Salem being right on this one. Or..." He chuckled. "Was right. I proved her wrong, in this life. Ozma isn't in control anymore."

"There's literally nothing in what you just said that's reassuring." Qrow noted, Ozpin smiling at him as he finished his salad. "Who's Ozma?"

"The name of the first soul in the cycle." Ozpin told him. "He used to absorb whoever he reincarnated in into himself the moment he was in their bodies, but his soul weakened over time, and it took more and more time and efforts to absorb them. By the time he reached me, it him almost twenty years for our souls to fuse, and then..."

"... you're the one who absorbed him." Qrow finished. He frowned. If Ozma's soul was driven by anger at being betrayed by the woman he loved, then... "Holy shit, what did Salem do for you to hate her that much!?"

"What would you do," Ozpin started. "If you wanted to live, but someone wanted you dead? Because you know of something you couldn't care less about that could destroy her life? What would you think if someone thought of you as nothing less than the latest stain on her self-inflated ego? Proof that she's just human, if not worse than that?"

Qrow frowned at that. Was that how Ozpin saw the conflict? But nevertheless, he knew the answer to that question. It wasn't one he was happy with, but... "I'd kill her before she killed me."

"Good answer. And the answer to who started our conflict: as far as I'm concerned, it's all. Her. Fault." The two finished their plates in silence after that, Ozpin first and spending the next few minutes watching Qrow.

They stared at each other for a while. "Uh. All that fancy stuff, and no dessert?" Qrow joked. The tiniest bit of relief struck him as the corners of Ozpin's eyes crinkled.

"Now, you're speaking my language!" The pale-skinned man clapped his hand, and Qrow nearly jumped out of his skin when a Grimm came out of the shadows.

It was unlike any Qrow had seen before. A glossy sphere with bone shards on it's lower half, floating with an array of thin tentacles trailing under it. There was an ominous light coming from into the sphere, even if it wasn't really visible in this light.

It was also green instead of red, which meant Ozpin had created the fucking thing. Black smoke rose up from under the plates at a wave of the Wizard's hands, handing them to the Grimm. "Bring these to the kitchen, and bring back the dessert. It's on the pastry cart." The Grimm simply took the pile of plates and floated back in the darkness of the inside.

Qrow inhaled sharply. "What the fuck was that-"

"Seer Grimm. I've put enchantments all over the place so we don't end up getting detected by the CCT, but I need a way to communicate with my followers when they're away." Ozpin explained with a shrug of his shoulders as he poured himself yet another glass of champagne. Qrow stared at him. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm pretty sure most of my bodily fluids have been replaced by Grimm sludge, it takes an insane amount of alcohol for me to get drunk."

"Yikes." That word alone could describe at least half of what Qrow had learned about Ozpin today.

"Want a refill?" Qrow looked at what Ozpin was pointing at. His own flute, now empty. He nodded, letting the wizard pour him a second glass. Ozpin got up from the table after that, his glass in hand as he leaned on the balcony, back to the Huntsman. "Anyway, there's still one part of your question I haven't answered yet."

Qrow frowned, before remembering. "Is there a way to stop your cycle of reincarnation?"

If he had seen the manic smile on Ozpin's face, Qrow would've been scared for life. "Nope~. There was, but Salem would've had to die, and she was unwilling to. And now, the only way to get rid of me has been made useless."

"What do you mean by that...?"

Before Qrow could get his answer, the Seer Grimm was back, pushing a tray with a plate that had a mountain of what looked like chocolate truffles on it. Ozpin turned around, snapping his fingers as he did so. The Seer rotated, floating toward Ozpin as the wizard reached a hand out, caressing the smooth surface. He looked at the Grimm warmly, before turning those same eyes on Qrow, making something in his chest flutter. "Slit my throat open."

One of the Grimm's tentacle morphed into a blade, and faster than Qrow could see, Ozpin's throat was opened with a gush of tar-like blood. Ozpin gurgled, more of the black sludge coming out of his mouth as he took a few steps back, before falling backwards over the edge of the balcony. Qrow's better nature took the better of him as he rushed out of his chair, rushing to try and catch the wizard. "OZPIN!"

... Only for the man to raise into the air, eyes ablaze as a gentle breeze carried him. Ozpin laughed awkwardly as the other man stared at him in shock. "Were you scared for me?" Qrow took a step back as what he realized was a nothing less than a living god touched down on the balustrade. "Don't worry, there's no need to! I know it's always a bit scary when I take risks like that, but I assure you: there's no need to, since I-"

"Can't die." Qrow finished, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. "You can't die."

Ozpin frowned sympathetically at him as he sat down on the balustrade, looking up at Qrow. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

His answer came in the way Qrow crumpled to the ground, breathing harshly as if he was trying to refrain himself from crying. "No one wanted me-" He started in between gasps, Ozpin frowning as he came to kneel down next to him. "I gave my life to her because she gave me a place where- where I belonged-" He continued, letting the other man manhandle him into a hug. "I thought I was finally- finally-"

"Doing some good?" Ozpin finished for him. That opened the floodgates, Qrow burying his face in Ozpin's chest as he sobbed. Ozpin gently carded a hand through his hair, resting is lips on the top of his head. "You poor thing..." He muttered. "I'm afraid meeting Salem was the worst luck of your life."

Qrow continued crying, not noticing Ozpin manhandling him further until he was sitting in Ozpin's former chair. The wizard had his back turned to him, taking the plate with the truffles. "What are you...?"

Ozpin turned toward him, a kind smile on his face. "After everything you learned today, you must be exhausted. I just want to make you feel a bit better, is all." He came to sit on the table, plate next to him. He picked the truffle at the top, bringing it to Qrow's mouth. "Open."

Qrow nodded, opening his mouth and letting Ozpin handfeed him sweets, the wizard occasionally cradling his face or petting his hair. Ozpin smiled, picking up Qrow's discarded glass of champagne and sipping on it as the other leaned in his hand.

I win this time, dear~

#writing #my writing #ozpin #rwby ozpin #professor ozpin #qrow branwen #rwby qrow #evil ozpin #evil ozpin au #alcohol #tw blood #food #glynda goodwitch #rwby glynda #rwby au #rwby

14 notes · View notes

magioftheseas · 3 years

Text

Take It Like A Man!!

Summary: An alternate scene in which Nidai does It to Matsuda in Chapter 26 of Super Danganronpa 2: Matsuda Yasuke’s Battle of Despair and Wits.

Rating: T+

Warnings: It’s suggestive. Also blood that was in the original fic. There’s specifically a nosebleed.

Notes: Y’all should’ve seen this coming. I don’t know how Nidai became a secondary love interest in this AU but he is one so he’s gonna get his own gay af bonus scene with Matsuda. It’s only fair. Sorry, Owari.

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

Commission? Donate?

“KATSUUUUU!!!”

Owari took off in a dash towards him. Her arms spread out and she propelled herself forward with a leap. Matsuda quickly side-stepped out of the way, and she smashed into the ground.

“Oogh! Urgh!” Owari spat out dirt and grass. She rubbed at her face, voice coming out as a nasal whine. “The hell did you dodge for?! Dirty coward!”

“No,” Nidai said, laughing as he walked up. “Pretty smart on Matsuda’s part! With his frame, he would’ve just crumbled under ya! This is why dodging can be just as effective as throwing a punch! Letting gravity do all the work! Gwahaha!”

Owari let out a groan of frustration. “It’s so cowardly!”

“Sorry if having self-preservation counts as being cowardly,” Matsuda retorted. “Even though pride doesn’t mean shit on death’s bed.” He pauses, noticing the dribble of dark red down Owari’s lip and dripping off her chin onto her shirt. He grimaced, realizing. “You’re bleeding. Come on.”

Owari blinked up at his hand. A grin split her face and before Matsuda was able to fully register the fucking awful mistake he just made—she snatched his wrist and yanked him down, trapping him with a headlock as she furiously rubbed her fist to his hair.

“Shouldn’t have let down your guard, Katsuuuuu!”

Nidai laughed heartily at the sight. Matsuda decided that next time—fucking next time, he was just going to let Owari bleed out and leave her for dead. Especially if she was going to bleed on him. On the clean lab coat he just fucking put on.

He furiously smacked her arm and it probably hurt him more than it hurt him. She dropped him and he unceremoniously smacked into her lap as she cackled. Nidai lifted him up by the scruff of his coat and settled him back on his feet.

“It’s nice that you two are getting along,” he said as he dusted Matsuda off, cheerfully and willfully oblivious to Matsuda boiling with unrestrained ire. “That said, Owari you should go with him to get your nose bandaged. It’s important to take care of your body.” Pausing, he seems to notice Matsuda’s stiff shoulders and moves to squeeze them. “And Matsuda, you should let me do it.”

“You’re gonna do it with him, too?!” Owari exclaimed. “I thought I was special, old man!”

“Matsuda clearly NEEDS it!” Nidai bellowed back. “Do not be so SELFIIIIIIISH!!”

Yeah. Sure. Matsuda thought, twitching. Scream right next to my fucking ear. God. This is why I hate jocks.

Unfortunately, he was now in a situation where fleeing wasn’t an option. Another reason why jocks were the worst. Too dumb for emotional manipulation, too unyielding for any physical backlash from a guy who skipped every gym class to bury his nose in medical texts. There was basically no way of dealing with them.

Matsuda sighed loudly.

“Right. Anyway.” He shuddered when Nidai squeezed his shoulders again. This time had more of a damned effect, proving the power of those strong hands. Damn that meathead. “I have—places to be. I’m going to the pharmacy so I can bandage up the rabid chick’s nose in the meantime if...” Another squeeze. Matsuda bit his tongue to muffle any responding groan before smacking Nidai’s hand. “Stop that! I... Urgh...”

Inventory is important... Inventory... Inventory...

“Will you come back and let me do it?” Nidai asked with utmost seriousness. Hating himself for feeling his face get hot, Matsuda bit down harder on his tongue.

I did get some lotion from the MonoMono Machine...

He really did get all kinds of weird fucking items. Particularly the lotion in question with its tacky bottle and perverse branding. For rubbing aaaaaaaall over your bear body, upupupu. Something like that. He would’ve tossed it on that offense alone, but it was actually pretty high-quality lotion...

And wouldn’t it feel really nice?

“I guess...there are bandages in my cottage...” He ended up mumbling. “But I still gotta go to the pharmacy...”

“Bwahaha!” Nidai patted his back. “Then you’ll go after! For now... To your place, YEAH?! MATSUDAAAAA?!”

Owari was fuming at him, cheeks an impressive shade of red considering the blood still flowing from her nose.

“Yeah,” Matsuda croaked, electing to just ignore her. “My place.”

Well. They were in his cottage and he did get the first aid kit for Owari first thing, but—it was feeling a bit crowded. And he didn’t have a door for his bathroom. He shouldn’t give a damn, he really shouldn’t but...

“Owari, you don’t mind stepping out, right?” Nidai asked gruffly, cracking his knuckles. “The point of it is to get Matsuda to relax. It’d be better if we were alone.”

Owari sighed heavily, pinching her nose as she did.

“I gueeeeeeeeess.”

Still huffy, she still tossed them once last glare before heading to the door. She slammed the door shut hard enough to rattle the hinges. She almost fucking broke it.

Matsuda fumed next except Nidai clapped his hand down on his shoulder. He jumped, staring up stupidly at Nidai’s grinning face.

“Let’s get started. Now!” He bellowed, “STRIIIIIIIIIP!!!”

“She can still hear you,” Matsuda hissed, but he shed his coat anyway. Annoyance couldn’t compete with his resolve and now that he had Nidai in his cottage, he’d be fucking damned if he didn’t see it to the end. “Just don’t shout so fucking much. We can be professionals about this.”

Nidai chortled, but that fire in his gaze burned and burned as Matsuda undressed. Tie. Dress shirt. Pants. Nidai’s gaze swept his frame, but that was an inferno that Matsuda wasn’t going to get caught in right now.

Even if he still felt a little flustered about it as he went to lie down face first on the bed. Only in his underwear. He heard the rustling of Nidai taking off his own jacket.

“There’s lotion in my coat pocket,” Matsuda mumbled before he forgot. “It’s hard to miss. Shaped like a certain shitty bear.”

Nidai harrumphed but he dug out the lotion anyway. He inhaled sharply.

“Ah! This is GOOD stuff! Owari likes it a lot!” Nidai sounded very, very fucking pleased. “Alright, Matsuda! The road to a brand new world is gonna be SLICK!”

Brand new world, huh? He listened to the bottle being popped open. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin despite the temperature being the same as always. It wouldn’t be the first fucking time he was almost naked like this. Unfortunately, it was impossible to pretend that this was just like any physical.

“This your first time?” Nidai asked, and Matsuda doesn’t have to look to know he’s coming closer. He can hear it in those heavy steps. “Has anyone else ever had ya like this?”

It’s not helped by Nidai almost whispering for once. As if he had to be careful with the weight of each word.

“Don’t think so,” Matsuda grumbled. “I’ve just never really have the time.”

Why the fuck am I so embarrassed about this?

He tries not to flinch when the bed dipped significantly under Nidai’s weight. He forced himself to calm the fuck down when he felt Nidai’s smooth, slick hands on his back.

“No good,” Nidai growled. “You need to take time out for yourself.”

Nidai’s thumbs pressed hard into a knot just under his shoulder blades. Matsuda muffles a yelp and he wonders if he should grab a pillow or something—except that isn’t going to fucking work because his body needs to be straight and flat. Dammit.

Nidai worked down his spine and he was helpless. Each twinge was strange, but he still loosened under the ministrations, relaxing more and more. Sparks of pleasure had him groan in relief, and he wasn’t even bothered by the weird ‘ratatata’s being grumbled under Nidai’s breath.

“You like it, don’t you?” Nidai asked, voice low and husky. “Now you won’t be able to live without it.”

God, he’s so fucking ridiculous.

So much so that Matsuda can’t help but laugh.

“Do you have any idea how you fucking sound right now?” He almost chokes on a sudden purr when Nidai kneads his lower back. “Fuck, that feels really nice.”

Sometimes, he can’t help but be a hypocrite, sighing and humming in a way that was almost obscene. He felt himself quiver with a particularly deep press into his nape, and Nidai chuckled softly under his breath.

“That’s it. Feel the POWER of the Ultimate Masseur, NIDAI NEKOMARUUUUU!!!”

“Stop yelling, keep massaging,” Matsuda snapped. He sighed again when Nidai didn’t halt in rubbing down the knots in his shoulders. “Oh fuuuuck, that’s it...”

With each knot kneaded out, it was a lifetime of stress melting away. He could’ve dozed off like this and indeed, he did give in a little and for once in his life, he just—stopped—thinking.

After a while, his eyes fluttered open. Nidai’s hands weren’t on him anymore, but he still felt the other’s weight situated on the corner of the bed. Pushing himself up, Matsuda did in fact feel his body much easier to move. Looser, even. He stretched with a soft whine, and—there. A flinch. From the other party.

When he turned, Nidai flashed him with a broad grin.

“There’s still work to be done on your shoulders, but I didn’t want to disturb ya!” A hearty laugh, but one that seemed more breathless than before.

“You can keep going, then,” Matsuda said immediately and would’ve flopped back down had Nidai not pulled him back.

“Just like this is fine,” was muttered into his hair and those large hands gripped and squeezed his shoulders. In a more cranky state of mind, Matsuda would’ve groused about the sudden strangeness in the atmosphere.

But, Matsuda was feeling pretty compliant. It was clear now how Nidai managed to tame Owari. All Nidai had to do was press his thumb like so into the knot under Matsuda’s nape and Matsuda would jump off a fucking bridge for this.

For now, he just hummed in contentment as Nidai works his magic once more.

Until there’s another pause.

“Ahaha. Haha.” Did Nidai’s laugh sound a bit dry? “You said you had to go to the pharmacist, right?”

He had almost completely forgotten.

“Urgh.” Matsuda groaned as the reality of the situation settled right back in his head. Like a fucking infestation of cockroaches. “Fuck, right.”

“We can continue again later,” Nidai was saying. “Even if you’re not one of my athletes, you’re still...”

He trails off. Matsuda is too busy retrieving his clothes to comment on it, but he does notice the meathead coach’s sudden sheepishness.

He’s not...?

Nidai’s blush darkened when he glanced back.

The reality of the situation settled in. Nidai looked away.

...it’s nothing. It’s just the circumstances that are strange. Don’t—don’t be fucking stupid and look so deeply into something like...

He needed. To get his damn shoes.

But when he swings down to retrieve them, he realizes his door has been opened.

And Owari is fucking glaring at him from the crack.

“What the FUCK?!”

And maybe, just maybe, Matsuda was a little too fucking flustered after all. And maybe he flung his shoe a little too hard. Owari may have taken it like a champ, but like a fucking idiot, she took it to the fucking face. Right on the damn nose.

“You were taking so LONG!” she exclaimed, completely undeterred with her stained bandage. It’d have to be replaced, she was probably bleeding again. “I won’t have ya completely monopolizing the old man’s IT!”

Nidai broke into uproarious laughter and Matsuda cursed himself out for expecting things to play out any other stupid fucking way.

This really isn’t the place for it. So, don’t fucking think about it. If this was a story, it’d be a fucking horror, not a romance.

“Right,” he griped. “To the fucking pharmacy, then.”

He just needed to get dressed. It’d be like nothing ever happened. Nothing at all.

At least it was a lot easier to move now.

I’ll have to see that brand new day again. Preferably soon. And then... I don’t know, maybe things can be normal?

The events transpired as normal. As expected. Whatever.

(But, no, he never got the chance to experience it again. But if he knew it’d be the first and last time on these stupid fucking islands, it wouldn’t have changed a thing between him, Nidai, or even Owari for that matter.)

#sdr2 #nekomaru nidai #nidai nekomaru #yasuke matsuda #matsuda yasuke #Magi fics #protag matsun #MatsuDai

7 notes · View notes

creative-frequency · 4 years

Text

Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Bright Time

Word count: 2321 Pairing: Inquisitor Cal Kestis x Reader Notes: Thank you all for the support and the lovely messages I’ve been receiving concerning this fic. You guys are definitely what has kept me writing since I never would’ve thought anyone else would be interested in this Inquisitor AU. So, thank you ❤️ This is the third part of the series!

Previous Part

My Writing Masterlist

It’s been another tedious week in Fortress Inquisitorius. Each day has been filled with dull tasks, really making you work for what they pay you. In a sense, you’re glad that there is no shortage of work but still time has moved extremely slowly. You’re anxiously waiting for any sign or a message from a certain Inquisitor.

You haven’t heard of or seen Cal ever since the day you fixed the melted control panel of the door to his quarters. Just thinking about the incident makes your blood boil and the Inquisitor will certainly get what he deserves. Somehow, one day. The details are still a little unclear, but you’re determined.

In the tranquility of your own living accommodations, you can finally strip off the dark overalls and faintly ponder the fact that it’s the only outfit Cal has ever seen you in. The uniform isn’t exactly complementing. Though, he didn’t seem to mind on your last encounter.

You sigh and toss the clothes to where you’ll to pick them up again in the morning, which means in eight hours – a luxury, really, in the light of the recent week.

As you slump on the elevated mattress posing as bed, one of your most faithful engineering droids rolls into the room.

“What’s up, MK?” you ask without getting up to look. Your back muscles are crying a symphony at finally relaxing on a soft surface.

The droid makes an uppish beep and you roll your eyes. This one has a handful of a personality.

“If it’s that important, why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you question, full-well knowing the MK droid will be galled by your lack of interested in its business. It lets out a series of drills, which sound a lot like scoffs for a being that has no respiratory channels.

“A message?” You frown lightly and get up to your elbows. A bad feeling creeps into the back of your mind. “Let’s hear it.”

The MK droid boops coolly and plays the recording.

“Hey, uhh, I think there’s a busted light bulb in here? Can you come and fix it today? Thanks.”

You freeze, blinking and staring at the messenger. You only just got away from work and now he wants you to go over to the other side of the base and urgh.

That kriffing stupid Inquisitor.

Ten minutes later you’re dragging your feet, once again wearing the stupid overalls and carrying a small toolbox. Fixing a light bulb shouldn’t be a big deal. You’re as equally vexed about having to get up as you’re anxious about getting to see Cal.

There has been no shortage of subconscious reminders about the last incident in his quarters and the more you try not to think about it, the faster your heart beats. Getting worked up about having to go and do your job doesn’t really help but at least you feel better when you think about all the ways to tell the stupid Inquisitor off. How can he be one of the Empire’s finest if he can’t even fix a kriffing light.

That inconsiderate man-child and his stupid pecs. If he weren’t an Inquisitor, I swear I’d–

It’s so late that the hallways are mostly empty save for the guards that you greet with yawns and earn a few sympathetic nods in return. If Cal isn’t wearing a shirt this time, you’ll give him a good old slap across the cheek, to hell with the consequences.

That perv might actually like it if I hit him. Oh, for kriff’s sake–

By the time you reach the right door, you’re positively fuming.

“How many Inquisitors does it take to switch a light bulb? Oh, I don’t know? None, since they have nerf shit as brains and can’t even– oh, hi. Ahem.” You settle the most perfectly neutral look to your face and hope Cal didn’t catch you muttering to yourself.

He gives you a cursory glance from your head to toes. At least he is wearing a shirt, even though it’s a very snug one.

“Come in,” he says.

Cal’s timid smile and casual tone set your cheeks alight and heart fluttering.

You clear your throat. “…Thanks.”

The sound of the door closing surges you into a mild inner panic but you draw in a breath to hide it and put the toolbox to the floor. Cal stays skulking by the entrance as you look up to find the target, eager to be on your way before he can think of anything reckless like the last time.

“Which one was it?” you ask slowly, craning your neck. All the lights seem fine and staring at them is making you see stars.

“The one in the middle,” Cal says and nods towards the culprit.

The light is as bright as the others and your eyes are starting to water from looking at them. You turn to Cal – his smile is nothing like timid anymore. It’s downright impish.

You should’ve known it was a trap.

“What’s the meaning of this?” You try to hold back the exasperation in your tone but it’s difficult. “Cal?”

The Inquisitor holds the eye contact and shrugs. You’re about to open your mouth to give him an earful when a loud crack makes you jump and you turn just in time to see the bulb explode into millions of tiny pieces. The shards scatter all over the floor as you instinctively hold your arms up to cover your face from the shrapnel, but not a piece even touches you.

The energy that was pouring into keeping the light on, no longer has a proper outlet and the fuse blows with a loud pop. You’re standing in the middle of the now dark room with the idiot Inquisitor.

The emergency lights near the floor cast an eerie red light and you can just barely make out Cal’s silhouette. Your eyes will need a moment to adjust to the darkness.

“Happy now?” is what you eventually set into snapping out at him.

The fuse box is in the hallway, but to get to it you need to find a way past the Inquisitor.

“Did you plan this?” The bravery falters in your tone. You swallow.

“Not really,” Cal says but you don’t believe him. “Hold on. Don’t move.”

Light clatter of glass against the floor echoes all around you and while you don’t see what happens, you assume that Cal just cleaned up the mess he made.

“Right,” you sigh, gather the ripples of your anger, and start walking towards the exit in resolute steps. Cal doesn’t move a muscle as you march past him. You’re almost to the door, already heaving out a relieved breath but come to the realization that you’re no longer moving.

In fact, your feet are taking you backwards. You yelp in surprise and almost get knocked over when the back of your legs hits the sofa in the middle of the room. You take purchase from the furniture to stay on your feet. Your eyes are steadily becoming acclimated to the darkness and you can see Cal’s silhouette coming closer.

Your blood pressure will lead to an early retirement at this rate.

“You need to stop breaking stuff to get me here,” you whine, “I’ll give you my personal comm frequency.”

“That’s not very exciting,” Cal huffs amused. He is standing right in front of you. The scarce light reflects enough from his eyes to hint where you should be facing.

“Well, sorry for not living up to your standards,” you quip frustrated and barely manage to finish the sentence since Cal’s hand comes to rest on your neck. The careful touch makes you quiver and your heart beats a mile a minute.

The breeze from Cal’s shallow breaths hits your skin as he leans forward. You would be lying if you claimed you were not waiting for this. He is smiling when your lips touch and you sink to sit down on the sofa back.

At least the door lock is fixed now.

“I’ve been, mmh, thinking… about you,” you confess even though Cal tries to make sure you can’t waste your mouth on talking. His lips move down to your jaw with a thoughtful hum and start trailing down towards your neck. It’s difficult to stay still with your already precarious balance.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Cal husks.

His hands come down to rest on your waist and before you can reply, your world revolves again with a yelp as your back softly hits the sofa cushions. Cal climbs over and lifts you up to straddle him. Faintly, you register that the sofa is really large and comfy, and this man is done playing around.

Cal’s lips find yours again, more demanding and eager. He starts unzipping your uniform and thrill shoots up your spine. A pleasant haze is starting to settle into your mind and you have to strive to keep your wits about you.

“I don’t suppose you have any more requests when the light is fixed?” you ask as you let Cal do his thing with your work overalls and pull down the part covering your upper body. You’re still wearing a tank top underneath it.

“Mm. I want a kitchen droid,” Cal replies and plants his lips onto your shoulder. Pushing your nose into his hair makes you giddy and you don’t at first realize what he said.

“Huh? A kitchen droid? Why?” you fumble to question.

“The meals in the commissary are horrible,” he simply says and continues peppering your exposed skin with kisses. You can’t argue with that point.

“Mm. I’ll see what I can do.”

You ease yourself better into Cal’s lap, perfectly accidentally grinding yourself against him – to which he responds with a grunt and furrowed brows. It’s music to your ears.

Cal stops and straightens up, hands still somewhere around your middle body, rudely interrupted from hiking your top up. Even in the dark, you can see the warning in his eyes and it sends your pulse flying.

“Look. Do you want me to hold back or not? ‘Cause I can’t if you–”

You grind yourself again against the growing hardness in his pants and cut him mid-sentence.

“Who said anything about holding back?” you purr in a bit too seductive tone.

You hide your devilish smile by taking the turn to kiss the side of Cal’s neck. He groans again and you can feel his body going slightly rigid underneath you. Serves him right to taste his own medicine. Stupid Inquisitor.

“Alright. You asked for it,” Cal coos gently. His grip on your waist tightens and he throws you to your back on the sofa.

“Oh!” you yelp but quickly regain your stance even though your positions have been reversed.

You kick your shoes off and wiggle down the overalls with Cal’s help. Gripping his shirt hem, you yank the piece of clothing up to get it off. If you’re going to do this, you deserve to get a glimpse at how well his training has paid off.

When you reach his pants and open the zipper for access, the fervent undressing slows down and molds into a make out session. This time horizontally, on the sofa, with the Inquisitor on top of you and your legs tangled with his – and hands in each other’s pants. It’s hot and messy and you can’t see a thing, but who needs eyes when his fingers dip inside you and it feels so good that you want to cry out loud. The hums and moans Cal makes against your mouth as you massage him drive you deeper into the moment. With each passing second you fight the regret about still having your underwear and top on.

You’re feeling so dizzy and elated that you’ve completely forgotten who you’re playing with. You’re in the den of an Imperial Inquisitor. The kind of who is not known for his mercy or empathy.

“You should stay for the night,” Cal utters suddenly.

In a motion so quick and nimble that you didn’t think you’d have it in you, you’re up and away from Cal’s arms, heart drumming in your ears and panicking. Every breathe is a drag and your hair must be in upheaval. Your underpants are uncomfortably damp and the room feels chilly when Cal’s body is no longer warming you.

“S-stay? You mean like… I, uh, wouldn’t want to impose… on your…” Your eyes skim the Inquisitor’s almost naked frame in the dark. “Hospitality.”

Cal straightens up but you bounce away from the reach.

“What? You’re not imposing. I’ll make you coffee in the morning,” he says slyly, clearly not understanding what is going through your head.

You almost give in. Your very soul hurts as you shake your head. If he wants you to risk life and limb and stay, he will have to do better than high-end coffee and what presumably would’ve been the beginnings of amazing sex.

You grab your overalls and almost fall onto your nose trying to put them on as swiftly as possibly.

No, this is bad. Worse than what you should get yourself into.

“So, uhh, sorry! I’ll fix the bulb tomorrow!” You snag your shoes, tugging them under your arm and take the toolbox from the floor. With a free hand, you fumble for the button to open the door before Cal can retaliate. What were you even thinking? People who get too involved with the Inquisitors disappear and you wish to keep existing.

“Wha– Hold on!”

“Nope. Bye!” You wave as you tiptoe into the hallway, praying that it’s empty. It’d be fun explaining to a Stormtrooper why you’re barely dressed behind the Inquisitor’s door.

Cal stays sitting on the sofa in the dark, looking after you, pants halfway down and utterly confused. He cannot comprehend what he did wrong.

Tagging (please lmk if you want to be tagged or not! I probably forgot someone cause I couldn’t find the list anymore OTL): @europhiacs @froyuhh @sinner-effy @droidrights @annoyedguildmaster @mysteriouswritingzonthewall @boxfullofcats @maulblr @sevansheart

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #inquisitor cal kestis #inquisitor cal kestis x reader #jedi fallen order #swjfo #swjfo fanfiction #star wars #my writings #oc #ffxv oc

444 notes · View notes

secondhand-trash · 4 years

Text

Servant and the Red Chicken

A/N: Haven’t writen a full length fic since Christmas and this happened after I saw this post and I was like “Hawks??? Is that you???”. Love me a fairy tale au so here you go with this kinda half crack half serious thing I came up with.

Pairing: cursed prince!Takami Keigo x reader

Description: Rumours of the prince who suddenly disappeared casted a shadow across the palace. But that was none of your business, you were just a servant trying to make a living. Rather than the royal gossip, you would much get answers to why there was a loud chicken following you around the palace grounds.

Word count: 4150

Playlist:

Beautiful Loser//Bob Seger

Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa//Vampire Weekend

Flowers In Your Hair//The Lumineers

Life in the palace was not easy. You got up before the sun barely showed its face every day and spent the coming hours with your hands soaked in cold water filled with substances that were probably not safe for the human body. If you were lucky, you might be able to get some scraps from the kitchen on top of the hard slice of bread that was both your life line and your salary but that was under the condition that no one was there to catch you sneaking in. If you slipped and got caught, well good luck to you I supposed, have fun being hit by a wooden stick. The bed you returned to after a day of hard work was more like a hard board. It was fine in summer but when the winter frost hit, it was like sleeping on plain ice. There were more rules in the palace than you could remember, some you never even heard of until you got yelled at for making a mistake. Getting yelled at was the least painful punishment as you were told by other servants in your quarter, chances were you might lose your head if you crossed the paths of the wrong person.

Basically, being a peasant in the royal court was tough but hey, at least you had a job that lets you shove something down your stomach every day and even have extra coins to send back to your family. Behind the tall walls and expensive velvet were many rumours and mysteries but you had learnt to never ask questions, satisfying your curiosity was not worth risking your life.

The royal family of the kingdom was the favorite topic of gossips among servants and others who happened to go in and out of the palace gates. There was a great risk in talking about the power above, but that was the charm of it you guessed. People would always be attracted to danger, it was only human nature. The hot topic when you just step foot into the palace was the mystery of the missing prince who disappeared over night. Still being new and learning the ropes, you didn’t say anything when the other servants chattered while sitting in a circle and rinsing the linens. From what you had heard, the prince had opposed his father in marrying the new queen, his stepmother which led to a lot of arguments and tension in the royal family when it happened. The wedding went on as scheduled against the prince’s protest, which you knew because that was what the entire kingdom was talking about in that one month of non-stop celebration. It was only a coincident that the king’s only son went missing right after the night of the wedding with no trace to be found. The royal guards were still searching for his whereabouts but there was no progress.

Rumours were that it had something to do with the queen. Those of power often overlooked the measly servants they shoved to the side but it was always those who were unnoticeable that knew the most. Someone said that they found what might be tools for witchcraft in the queen’s chamber which stirred the theory that the prince was cursed by the queen for a hot second. But rumours went as rumours did, the people quickly stopped talking and focused on something else the moment anything more recent and exciting surfaced. The missing prince was quickly glossed over by the newest gossip that the count’s daughter were making plans to run away with her handmaiden.

In retrospect, you didn’t really care much about these quick whispers. It was not like the royals would have anything to do with you, a servant, anyways. They were just something harmless bored workers talked about to make thier hard life more exciting and that was what it was to you. Even if you were curious to know more, you knew better than to ask questions. There were more practical things to wonder about other than who was bedding who and how the ladies in waiting tried to impress the queen.

For example, why the hell was there a red chicken running around the royal courts and why did it like to follow you around so much?

The first time you ever saw the red chicken was when the head of the servants’ quarter, Mrs Carter, was taking you around the place. She was a chubby lady in her late 40s, stern at first look but you would soon realise that she was way softer inside than she let it out to be. Making your way to the kitchen, she explained each station and everyone you needed to know as she walked in front of you in such a speed that you had to sprint to keep up.

“This is Marinette, the one who makes all the butter around here. That’s the cutting station, we start preparing ingredients for dinner at 4 each day and you might be asked to help in the kitchen when needed. Please go speak to... Where is Paul? Oh there he is. Paul at noon each day to see if you are needed...”

Desperately trying to memorise each detail and all of the new faces, you felt like your head was about to explode. Being in a whole new environment was terrifying, let alone the palace where the kitchen was already bigger than the town square from where you were from.

You were so close to seeing white when Mrs Carter suddenly screamed. Jumping from her high pitched screech, you could barely react when the entire kitchen went into a state of chaos.

“It’s the chicken! The damn chicken is here again!”

Everyone dropped what they were doing and grabbed whatever they could get at their hand. It was madness as people ran around, pots falling to the ground and everything went flying. That was when you saw a red blur sprinted across you, nearly knocking you off. The blur was fast, jumping onto counters and passing the dozens of people who were trying to catch it with whatever they could find. The pastry chef swung the rolling pin but missed and hit the milk maid instead, someone tried to trap it with a pot but tripped over. There were shouts and screams everywhere but as you stood there, completely dumbfounded, you caught a glimpse at the kitchen window to see a red chicken with a piece of bread at its beak. How did it got there in such a short amount of time? You blinked as the bird flapped its wings and hopped off of the window frame, leaving the absolute wreck it created behind.

“Where did it go? Urgh! We let it run away again!” Mrs Carter yelled, her face was an angry shade of red as she looked around the mess. “The goddamn... Never mind! What time it is? Christ! We are late! Quick, follow me. Now don’t just stand there, catch up!”

You snapped out of your haze and ran across the room to go into the next doorway, still thinking about that sly chicken if it even had the ability to be sly.

For some reason, that little accident in the kitchen might just made the nerve in your chest disappear.

As you slowly eased into the busy courts and your role as a servant, your confusion as to why there was a red chicken running around only grew. It seemed to be anywhere chickens should probably had no way getting into. The laundry room, the servants’ quarter, the Royal Guard’s training field... Anywhere with people it could bother, it would be there at the most random times and it was sure to cause chaos. After some mindless observation, you had come to realise that the red chicken took a liking to messing with anything that had to do with the king and the queen. It was like it knew the structure of the palace at the back of its tiny, feathery head. Whenever the queen would stroll around the royal gardens with her ladies in waiting, the chicken would show up to run across everything. Whenever screeches and yelps passed over to where you were, you knew that the chicken was at it again. It was also loud, very loud in fact and the noises it made were rather chirpy for the being it was.

Oh, and also, you felt like the chicken recognized you now. After that chaos in the kitchen on your first day, the red chicken would always be there whenever you were alone. You were wary at first, worried that it might cause trouble for you and in turns got you some ruthless beating, but it was oddly calm every time that you had come to accept that being followed by a red chicken was simply part of your life now. Every time you were on your way to another manor or in the woods for errands, you bet the chicken would show up and walk with you. You could not believe that you were saying this but the chicken was actually a nice company if it wanted to be. If you said anything. it would flap its wings and chirp in response. You were certain that the stress had gotten to you but you were convinced that it might understand what you were saying. When you had time in your hands, you would bent down and stretch the chicken’s head to which it would coo so you assumed that it liked pets.

Now that you thought about it, wasn’t it a bit strange that the chicken was nicer to you than it did everyone else? Well, the chicken was your friend now and it was not like you were complaining. We did not ask questions around the palace and if a red chicken wanted to be your friend, might as well accept it and bring it breadcrumbs as a token of thanks.

But a chicken runnigng around causing chaos was not something of your concern right now as you carried a huge pile of linens in hand, the fabric so tall that you could barely see in front of you. Trying to make out where you were going, your eyes lowered to look at the ground to make sure that you were still walking on the path and there was nothing tripping you over. With the heavy weight at your hands, the only thing on your mind was to get to the laundry room quickly and dropped it off there. Barely able to walk in a straight line, you silently cursed at how the road to your destination seemed to be so much longer than usual.

Another thing worth nothing about the palace was that it was ridiculously huge with many pathways zigzagging everywhere. Make one wrong turn, then you might found yourself walking around in an endless circle towards every direction but the one you were supposed to be heading. If you had remembered this, you would have taken a pause in the middle of the unusually long road and look at your surroundings. If you had done that, you would notice that you were nowhere near the laundry room and in fact, you were starting to head into the woods. But with the ache in your arms, that was simply not something your running mind thought off.

“Bok!

Suddenly, you looked over the pile of linens to see a pair of red wings hopping out of the bush. As the chicken wobbled its way across to you, it tilted its head as if you ask you where you were going.

You sighed. “Not now! My arms are so close to giving up and I need to get to the laundry room.”

“Buck!” The chicken flapped its wings and pecked at your shoe, standing in the middle of the road behind your back.

Struggling to even turn around, you groaned. “I promise I’ll come back later when I have time, ok? But I have to leave now!”

“Kahcaw!” The chicken pulled at the bottom of your apron when it saw that you had no intention to turn around.

“What is it?” You yelped. It seemed like it wouldn’t let you go anytime sooner. “Are you hungry?”

“Kah!”

“No? Then do you want pets?”

“Kah! Kah!”

“I’m so confused! What do you want?” You exclaimed. The chicken seemed to be panicking, if that was something it was capable of doing, and flapped its wings while running in a circle. Looking at it, you finally glanced at where you were and realised that you were very lost.

Was it trying to help you?

“Are you trying to tell me where to go?”

“Bok!” The chicken seemed to be delighted that you finally understood what it wanted and started walking down the path. Were you really going to follow a chicken? You thought to yourself, but it was not like you had much of an option anyways. Gritting your teeth to find the last bit of strength in you, you walked behind the chicken towards a direction you had never been on. It was nice enough to stop and wait for you to catch up every once in a while. It was only a matter of time before you saw the laundry house from down the road.

You were made sure to bring extra bread with you so you could have something to thank the chicken for helping you out but it only left you with more questions clouding your head as to why it knew its way around the grounds so well.

The court was a dangerous place to be in, if it wasn’t already established by how you nearly got lost in the woods and needed a red chicken to come save the day. It wasn’t just the dark roads and the many rules that made each step you took require extra attention to it, the people rushing in and out every day might just be a lingering threat as well. You could never be too careful, as people said. Sometimes, one quick moment you let your guard down was enough for a life-long mistake to be made.

As you rushed back to the sleeping quarters with nothing but a dim oil lamp in your hand, you cursed at how you were foolish enough to go out without bringing a shawl with you. The palace could be awfully scary at night which was something that everyone knew of, the fact that you were ordered to deliver something to the carpenter who lived in the middle of the woods when there was no way you could make it back before dawn was yet another reason why you were certain that the temporarily person-in-charge had something against you. Mrs Carter was away in town to handle some errands for the house keeper and the moment you saw the lean man walked into the kitchen, you knew that he would be trouble for you. What exactly had you done to make him hate you so much? You seriously had no clue but it was not like a proper reason was needed for anyone to make your life miserable anyways.

You shivered when the wind hit you in the face. You did not want to be here, you did not want to be here at all. You missed Mrs Carter, at least she had always been kind enough to make sure that everyone would get back to the quarters safely.

Something about the pitch black road made you felt unease even though you were certain that you were on the right track. Perhaps it was your own paranoia but you had a faint sense of danger lurking at the back of your head.

Was someone following you?

Your pace quickened at the thought and you held the oil lamp higher to your face as if it was any help. The shadows from the trees seemed to become taller and the end of the road was nowhere to be seen. Every time the wind blew across the leaves, the rattling it left only made you skin crawl. You forced yourself to think of something pleasant, something that would kept your lingering thoughts at bay. Think of the bed, think of the other people greeting you once you arrived at the door, think of the fire crackling in the kitchen, think of the red chicken that might show up next morning during breakfast, think of-

“Don’t move or I’ll slit your throat!”

The oil lamp dropped as you were suddenly yanked back, a hand covering your mouth and something cold pressing against your neck. It was like your pulse paused right then and there, you could not find the strength to scream if you dared.

“Hand over everything you have with you!” It was a voice you had never heard of, one that was rough and domineering enough to convince you that whoever it was holding the blade across your neck, they would not hesitate to end you if it comes down to it.

Your blood curled when you remembered that you had nothing valuable with you. Was that what it had come to? Everything you had worked so hard for only to have you dying alone in the woods with no one to discover your body until the next time someone crossed the path far away from the main buildings. It was late and no one would be here to help you.

Dear god if you are listening, you prayed as you shut your eyes tight to prepare for the inevitable pain, please sent someone, something, anything...

“Babok!”

You could not believe your eyes when you saw a large object hitting the burglar. The man pushed you to the ground with the sudden attack and when you finally gathered your breath, still not yet calmed down from the scare you just experienced, you nearly tear up at the sight of the big red bird that was aggressively flapping its wings at the burglar.

The burglar waved his knife in the air as the chicken jumped to chase him away. The man let out a loud yelp when the chicken succeed in biting his nose and swung the bird to the ground before scurrying away with a bleeding nose.

Your breath paused when you saw that the chicken was not moving and you used all your might to get the oil lamp that was rolled to the side before crawling to where the chicken was. Taking a closer look, you gasped when you lifted the lamp so see its feathers being tainted by a much darker shade of red than its own feathers. There was a huge cut at its chest, and you winced at how you could see the flesh underneath the cut through feathers.

“Oh no.. Oh no no no...” Quickly putting the lamp down, you tear off a corner of your apron to press onto the wound, “Please don’t die on me, please...”

The chicken’s chest raised slowly as it let out a weak “Bok”. Trying to hold it without touching its wound, you placed the chicken onto your lap as you caressed its head. Even with its final breaths, it still tried to rub onto your fingers as if to tell you not to worry but the sight only made your heart wrench.

It had risked itself to save you and now it was dying in your arms. Your nose ached at the sight when you sniffled. “I’ll get you somewhere, we can find something to patch you up! So please just stay with me, stay with me...”

The sobbing was no longer contained when you felt its head went limp in your hand. In the middle of the woods, all that could be heard was the sound of wind howling and your cries echoing through the trees. There would be no one waiting for you when you carry linens to the laundry house anymore, your stomach twisted together when you thought of how the red chicken would no longer show up to wreck havok and made you laugh anymore.

Amidst your tears, you did not feel the shifting at your lap, passing it off as the wind. It was only when you felt something that resembled a human finger wiping away your tears that you blinked and opened your eyes at the sudden touch. The red chicken that was placed on your lap was there no more. Instead, you saw a head of golden hair and the face of a handsome young man staring back at you. You were too shocked to say anything as the man continued to caress your teary cheeks with his thumb.

“What?” You managed to choke out in between your heavy breaths. Were you dreaming? But the warmth from the hand and the weight at your lap felt way too real for it to be a fragment of your own imagination.

“Don’t cry for me,” the man smiled when he saw that your crying had stopped, “it would pain me to think that such a lovely face is filled with sorrow because of me.”

Taking another look at the man, the blonde curls and the golden eyes along with the handsome feature looked way too familiar. It only hit you that this was the same face you had seen in the royal portraits when you cleaned that corridors every morning when you saw the badge symbolisng his status pinned in front of his battered up shirt.

“You’re the missing prince...” Your eyes widened in shock at the realisation, “but you were also the red chicken...”

“Hello, darling.” The prince chuckled but winced when he moved the cut at his chest and you instantly pressed the fabric to it once again to stop the bleeding.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the castle.” You said as you put an arm at his back to help him up.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?” You said, your voice laced with concern. How strange that you didn’t care so much that you were talking to the crowned prince of the kingdom, all that was on your mind was the red chicken who had helped you time after time.

“Would you still rub my head when after I turn back?”

“...you’re bleeding.”

“I know.” The chicken, or should you call him the prince now, hissed through his teeth as he pouted, “But would you?”

You sighed, something never change and in all honesty, you were very glad that he didn’t seem to act much differently than he did when he was still had wings. “Of course.”

Your heart fluttered when the prince beamed.

You were not surprised at all when you walked into the kitchen the next day to hear people rambling on about how the prince had returned and the dramatic ending to the case of his disappearance. Turned out, the queen hired someone to curse Prince Keigo and transforming him into a chicken, the only way to turn him back was tears of genuine love for the prince. When you heard the maids talking about who could possibly the one to break the curse for the prince, your heart leaped out of your chest to which you brushed it off as nothing when they asked. No one needed to know about your little encounter in the woods with the red chicken the previous night.

Everything escalated from there. After a lot of investigation, the queen’s crimes were confirmed when the Guards caught the warlock who performed the curse for her and she was to be executed.

You were glad that the prince made it back safely, but a part of you missed your feathery friend. You nearly cried tears of joy when the prince, who insisted that you called him Keigo instead of all the formalities, waited for you at the pathway like he used to when he was still the red chicken. Pulling him into a tight hug, it was only later when he pressed a chaste kiss to your hand like the pecks he would give you with a grin that you remembered he was no longer a farm animal but a young man your age. The mad blush that spread across your face only seemed to make him do it more often than before.

So with the prince’s return, the rumour was settled and everything returned to normal. But rumours went as rumours did, and there would never be a day when the palace grounds could go without any new gossip being passed around by everyone. The most recent gossip by the way, in case you were curious to know, was that the prince’s newly betrothed spouse, who the prince was madly in love with, used to be the young servant who carried linens to the palace’s laundry house.

#hawks x reader #hawks imagine #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo imagine #bnha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha au #mha imagines #mha x reader

626 notes · View notes

northernsoulpie · 3 years

Text

Louloúdi

This is my @loveinwayhaven gift for @dakotawinchester I hope you like it, I’ve not written fic in a loooong time but I really enjoyed writing this! I loved Arabella and hope I did her character justice.

Pairing: Morgan x F!Detective Arabella Aveiro

Warnings: some swears. Teen?

Laycott’s Bar & Grill was not the most salubrious bar in Wayhaven, but when it came to cheap drinks and rowdy night out, there was no where else quite like it. Tina had all but dragged Arabella out of her office, with vague threats of them ‘not hanging out anymore, like ever’ and that ‘Arabella, you’re becoming obsessed! I promise you’ll feel so much better if you come out for a few drinks and take your mind off it!’. All absolute rubbish of course but Tina had been such a good friend over the years that she didn’t have the heart to keep turning turn her offers of spending time together. Plus, truth be told, she was entirely fed up of brooding over case files and photographs of possible evidence. Whenever Arabella went home to sleep for a few short hours, she’d even began to dream of filing cabinets and evidence lockers and blank case reports. Maybe Tina was right, maybe she was becoming obsessed. A few drinks might help her to relax she reckoned, take her mind off work, off the agency -and off her mother - for a while.

“Urgh why do I always end up getting plastered when I’m out with you?” Tina giggled into her beer bottle.

“Don’t blame me sunshine, this was entirely your idea!”

Tina waved the bottle animatedly as she spoke, sloshing beer onto the already sticky carpet, “Whatever, you need me to rescue you from all that paperwork every now and again. Stops you from getting…” She gestured haphazardly at Arabella sat across the booth from her.

“…getting on with my duties as a responsible professional?”

“HA! More like stops you from getting all boring and serious all of the time.”.

Arabella pushes her dark hair behind her ear, “Hey, come on! I’m not that serious all of the time. I’ll still me.”

Even as the words left her mouth, they’d felt like a lie. Tina’s eyebrow quirked as she leaned forward in her seat.

“You do seem different now, something’s definitely changed. Just drop the ‘Detective Aveiro’ mask for a short while and come back to being my best friend Arabella. Just every now and again. It’ll do you good, trust me on this Ari!”

Arabella sighed, trying to hide the flash of annoyance followed by the pang of regret at Tina’s words. Her work as Wayhaven’s only detective and liaison to the agency was now taking up all of her time, even cutting into her precious sleep, most nights. Her apartment looked like something out of a horror movie and her once beloved hobbies were long since neglected. No wonder Tina invited her out so often, she probably wanted to stage an intervention for best friend before she faded away for good.

She looked down at her own beer bottle and began to peel at the label. “It’s just been a tough few months, what with just starting this job and the murders…”

Tina’s smile faded, “Oh crap Ari. I know it has, I’m sorry. I just miss you that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I didn’t think taking on this role would demand so much more of my time, it feels like everything in this backwater little town is all going wrong at once and I’ve just been left to somehow fix it all.”

Tina grimaced but nodded sympathetically. “I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been Arabella, you’ve been left with such a crock. But you’re not on your own, you’ve got me and Verda and the rest of station to help you when work gets crazy. Not only that, we’re your friends – talk to us! I know you, you’ve always been moody and stubborn as hell but don’t lose yourself in all this crazy shit.”

Tina stopped abruptly. Arabella could tell there was more she desperately wanted to say - fumbling hands, tight lips, slight pained expression - the damning confession was coming.

…you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on…

No! She really was losing herself to the job. This was her best friend damn it.

“Tee? It’s OK, it’s me. What is it?”

“I… really don’t want to upset you Ari, but you’re becoming just like her, just like Rebecca…”

Tina pursed her lips as though already regretting the words she’d just spoken out loud. She looked positively terrified of what Arabella ‘s reaction would be.

Arabella barked a laugh, “I know, I know. I understand what you’re saying Tina. I think you’re right though, maybe I do need to remove the plank from my ass every now and again.”

Tina began to laugh and Arabella joined her, feeling the sudden tension melt away again. It felt like a small resolution of sorts.

Suddenly Tina stopped mid laugh and seemed to stare at something over Arabella’s shoulder. Arabella brought her beer bottle down from her lips.

“Tina? Is everything okay?”

Tina dragged her eyes back to Arabella and smirked.

“Tina? What on earth..”

“Drinking again Detective?”

Morgan

The vampire emerged at their table from behind her. Arabella’s heart flipped before she could scold it thoroughly and will it back to a normal rhythm. Morgan was wearing her usual style; long dark hair layered so casually around her shoulders, a tight, black long sleeved T-shirt that shows off her curves to perfection, cords of leather around her wrists and neck. It’s an outfit that seems so impossibly nonchalant, like the old glam style rockers of the 80’s and 90’s but much, much cooler. And so damn hot.

Arabella shrugged, “Got to let my hair down every now and again.”

Morgan’s dark eyes flicked to her hair, almost of their own accord, before returning to looking her dead in the eyes. “You should let it down more often Detective.”

Arabella stared. She promised herself she wouldn’t let herself get affected by Morgan’s flirtations but when she used that tone, her defences simply melted away. Morgan glared back, eyebrow arching ever so daringly.

Tina nodded enthusiastically in her seat, gesturing at the vampire stood at their booth, “See that’s what I told her. Too much work and no play makes Detective Arabella a dull lay-day… wait that was awful. I couldn’t think of anything that rhymes with play haha.”

Morgan raises a sardonic eyebrow whilst Arabella rolled her eyes, “Okay Tina, think it’s time to bounce. Come on, grab your stuff and let’s find a taxi.”

“Oh nooo, why don’t you stay Ari? Agent Morgan will see you get home safe, isn’t that right Morgan?” Tina waggled her brow and didn’t bother to hide the obvious smirk whilst she looked between the two of them. Arabella had tempting visions of throwing her jacket over Tina’s face and giving her a few choice jabs to the ribs to shut her up. Tina’s clumsy attempts at match-making were somehow growing worse as the years went on.

Morgan stepped forward to help Tina as she struggled into her jacket, “Sure, I’ll help Miss Poname to get a taxi outside. You gonna get us a couple of drinks Arabella?”

She blanched from shooting daggers at Tina’s grin. That was… not expected. She watched as Tina finally wrestled into her jacket before allowing Morgan to take her gently by the arm and expertly maneuver her through the busy bar. Once or twice, Tina even turned to reply cheerily or laugh at something the vampire said as they walked. Arabella stared after them. Morgan wasn’t usually this friendly or helpful to anyone, especially not to humans. She had to be playing at something, she was sure of it. After a minute or so, Arabella suddenly remembered she was meant to be getting them drinks and made her way over to the bar. When she returned to their table, she noticed Morgan striding back through the crowd toward her. People seemed to move out of way instinctively, probably something to do with Morgan’s impressive resting bitch face and arrogant stride through the throngs of patrons. Some turned their heads to appraise the gorgeous vampire, she seemed to have that effect whenever she went out in public, in spite of the ever-present scowl. Morgan threw herself down on the sofa next to her, startling her slightly. Arabella passed Morgan her drink, hoping the motion would hide her surprise at the sudden closeness.

“Here. I couldn’t remember what you had to drink last time we were here, so I just got you a rum and coke.”

Morgan wrinkled her nose for a second before accepting the glass, “Not my first choice but whatever, drink’s a drink.”

She took a hearty gulp of the rum and leant back into the sofa. Arabella watched the vampire through the edge of her vision before turning to her.

“Thanks for helping Tina find a taxi, I think she was a little drunk by the end there.”

Morgan shrugged. “Yeah it’s no big deal, I actually kind of like your friend.”

Arabella pursed her lips and gave Morgan a disbelieving look.

Morgan sighed and rolled her eyes, “She can be so giddy and irritating – even for a human- but she looks out for you. Cares for you. You should listen to her advice more often, the job ain’t going anywhere.”

Arabella stiffened, “What advice do you me… you were listening to our conversation? Seriously?!”

Morgan took another sip of her rum and coke, “Only the end of it, I was coming over to see you and Tina was drunkenly broadcasting your conversation to the rest of the bar. So no, I wasn’t listening in. Like I’ve got nothing better to do than spy on your personal drama with your friends.”

It was a convincing lie, Arabella would give her that. It Morgan had tried that on any other person, they probably would’ve believed her. Luckily for her, she had been trained to spot liars, even the very good ones. Even the ones that lied to themselves.

Feeling impulsive, Arabella carefully her drink down on the table and turned her body around to face Morgan. She crossed one leg artfully over the other which Morgan didn’t miss the dangled opportunity to run her eyes over. Playing the ‘good cop’ in interrogations wasn’t something Arabella did often but this time, she could make an exception.

“So, are you going to tell me what you’re really doing here Morgan?”

“I’m on patrol duty tonight. Ava has us all patrolling this little shit hole town every night to keep watch for any unusual activity.”

Arabella leant back, draping one arm over the back of the couch and with her other hand, carefully sweeping her dark hair over her shoulder. Morgan had seemed to like that motion earlier. At this point in time, Arabella couldn’t exactly point out why she now felt such a rush at teasing Morgan. Catching out little lies and discrepancies was something that gratified her but it never seemed to excite her like this. Maybe it just was catching this particular person out that had this effect on her. It was like her brain and her body had just taken over her conscious mind and now she was just running on pure adrenalin alone.

She tapped her chin, “And Ava instructed you to come inside the bar to have a few drinks as part of the patrol, did she? There’s never been an incident occur inside this bar to date. Not to mention that government agency SOP’s for patrols must be very different to front line agencies.”

Morgan seemed surprised for a brief second, before narrowing her eyes, “If you want me to be honest, here it is Detective. It’s really it’s just to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t get yourself kidnapped or attacked AGAIN.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn’t be bothered sitting outside in the freezing cold for hours, so I thought I’d come in.”

Arabella dropped her hands to her lap and looked away feeling quite deflated, “Well, that answers that question then.”

“You thought I had come in here just to see you Detective?”

Arabella felt the blush burn on her cheeks as she stumbled to think of a retort. She reached forward and took a strategic swig of her beer. As she leant back into the sofa, she felt Morgan’s hand on her crossed knee. The warmth of it seemed to burn through the material and electrify her skin. Arabella knew there would be no hiding the redness of her face now.

“Well maybe I did come in here just to see you, maybe I timed my patrol route carefully so I could see you in here. Guess you’ll never find out the truth of it Detective.”

“I always find out the truth of it Agent, that’s my job.”

“You want to find out the truth of me, don’t you Detective? I’d certainly like to find out a few things regarding you, have done since the first time I walked into your office.”

Morgan carefully plucked the bottle of beer from Arabella’s hand, placed it on the table in front of them. Almost imperceptibly as she leant back from the table, she had somehow inched closer to Arabella, no longer having to stretch her hand out to rest on her knee. Arabella could feel Morgan’s breath caress her face and she felt her blood start to rush as Morgan’s lips came closer. Her breath caught as she considered closing the gap between them and kissing Morgan first. The agent always seemed like having the upper hand in their flirtations and surprising Morgan really would be so immensely satisfying. The fantasy quickly slipped away though as Arabella lost her nerve, caught in the moment of just aching to see what Morgan would do next.

Arabella sighed. She didn’t know what on earth Morgan was doing to her, one minute Arabella could be so causal and smooth but in the next she would feel so timid and inexperienced. Arabella had dated plenty in her college years, some were just as flirty and promiscuous as Morgan and she’d had no problem then. None of those women had ever sent her into a tailspin like this. She knew Morgan would probably want just a casual thing between them and that was fine, she’d learnt long ago not to let feelings get in the way when dating women like her. Anyway, right now she was just letting her hair down. Forgetting all about the last few months and the station, just as she had promised Tina. No matter what this woman did to her, she reassured herself, Arabella knew how to take what she needed and not get attached. She had been practicing her whole life.

Morgan shifted her hand over hers on the back on the sofa and shifted toward her until they were sat only centimeters apart. The feeling of skin touching skin was like a burning brand as the hand on her knee slid smoothly up to rest on her thigh. As Morgan’s lips grew closer, Arabella almost stopped breathing. As her eyes fluttered closed, she was vaguely aware of her previous statement about not becoming attached ringing hollow as the lust and the something else just there burned brightly in her chest.

The shrill ring tone cut through silence, making both of them jump and freeze. Arabella opened her eyes to see Morgan scowling worse than she had ever seen the woman scowl before. She pitied the poor person on the other end of the phone.

Morgan sat back, snatching her mobile from her back packet at almost superhuman speed.

“What is it?”

Arabella winced.

“No. Fine. Whatever, just don’t tell her. Yes. Done, get here quickly Farrah.”

Arabella heard the plastic crack as Morgan punched the call end button and jammed the phone unceremoniously back into her back pocket.

“Farrah’s almost here, my shift is over.”

She nodded back, “At least your patrol was uneventful in the bar tonight.”

Morgan titled her head as she glared back at her, “Hmmm, uneventful?” She purred.

At that sultry tone Arabella jumped up, grateful to have a chance to clear her head before she did something incredibly stupid. They were colleagues of sort, after all. Fraternising with colleagues was always a terrible idea, no matter how good things had been getting only minutes earlier.

Arabella cleared her throat pointedly, “Anyway, it’s getting late. I better be getting back to my apartment.”

“Come on, I’ll see you outside and find you a taxi back.”

Morgan watched quietly with dark eyes as Arabella felt her way into her leather jacket and patted herself down to check her belongings. When finished, she turned to Morgan. Morgan dutifully put her arm out which she took gratefully.

“Thank you, Agent and thanks for the drink.”

“Any time Detective.”

#loveinwayhaven #The Wayhaven Chronicles #twc morgan #specialist agent morgan

12 notes · View notes

thesassenachswiftie · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: “The Man”

Read on AO3

Summary:

Claire's reputation (and life as she knows it) is ruined after breaking up with Frank. She continues to see Jamie in secret but is it too good to last? Based on Taylor Swift's album "Lover" each chapter will tie in to a song and have lyrics woven throughout. I do not own these lyrics, nor do I own any incidental Diana Gabaldon quotes that may also appear throughout.

Notes:

This is the first fic I've written in probably 15 years! Thank you to those of you that have already shown support and encouragement before I've even begun. Earlier this summer I was listening to "Lover" at a time when I was indulging in quite a bit of fanfiction and rewatching Outlander. I couldn't help but imagine Jamie and Claire blisfully in love in New York city while listening to the lyrics. Thus, the idea for this fic was born. Later, when I was listening to Reputation, I realized many of those lyrics could also work for this story. I ended up mapping out chapters for both Reputation and Lover, so there will eventually be a prequel to this story! I will try to give enough exposition in the actual story that you do not need to read Reputation first (especially since you can't because it doesn't exist yet) but may occasionally give some background information in the notes if I can't weave it into the story.

That being said, Claire and Frank had a pretty tumultous break up at the end of Reputation, and Claire went running straight to Jamie's arms. She's still hurting and has a lot of pieces to pick up, as well as figuring out what her priorties are.

Chapter 1 is a short little chapter featuring Claire and her nonbinary best friend, Jo Abernathy (they/them) discussing the situation over coffee. I will be the first to admit I struggle with pronouns in writing. I blame a long history of learning subject/verb agreement that did not include a singular they throughout my schooling. Please forgive me and feel free to point out if I have made a mistake in this area. This fic is a great opprotunity for me to practice and get better.

Chapter 1: The Man

Frank had taken everything from her and reaped none of the consequences. The stack of rejection letters on the counter was staring at her out of the corner of her eye, sprawled on top of a trashy tabloid featuring headlines about some supermodel with Leo in Saint-Tropez. She could feel the letters taunting her. She could feel him taunting her. How was it possible that every residency program in New York had rejected her? She knew Frank was a powerful man, but damn. Frank Randall was not a man you wanted to cross.

Graduation was three days away. Claire should have been celebrating; all her final exams were finished, papers turned in, and there was nothing left to do but reflect on what a waste it all was. She needed a distraction. She considered texting Jamie, but he was probably helping on his family farm--it was almost impossible to get a hold of him on weekdays. She decided to text Jo instead: “coffee?”

“Always. I can meet you in about a half hour”

“See you there”

Jo Abernathy was Claire’s best friend and former roommate. Luckily, they had both ended up living on Long Island. Jo had gotten a job teaching Social Studies there before they even finished their master’s degree and lived in a funky little apartment above a bar in Northport Village. Claire was still “living the suburban dream” in the house her and Frank had bought together--the only thing he hadn’t taken from her. It was a bland, spacious, new build with perfect everything--it was a perfect nightmare is what it was. The walls were still unpainted, stark white, and cold. Most of the rooms weren’t furnished yet and the ones that were were lacking in decor. She wasn’t planning on moving out until she decided on a residency program, but that wasn’t an option anymore and she didn’t know what to do. What did he have to gain keeping her trapped in this prison when he wanted nothing to do with her? What was his end game? Did he really get such a thrill out of torturing her? Fucking sadist. Of course Frank was suffering exactly none of the fallout from the demise of their relationship. If anything, it garnered him sympathy and gave everyone an excuse to see him as human and love him all the more for it. When everyone believes you, what’s that like? She shook her head, questioning how much of this she deserved for what she did. Claire grabbed her keys and headed out to meet Jo.

Jo was already seated with two lattes in front of them when Claire arrived at their favorite coffee shop, The Cozy Teacup. An expert at reading Claire’s glass face, they immediately asked “Ok, who do I need to stab?” upon her arrival.

Claire couldn’t help but smirk at her dearest friend’s overprotective attitude. “I think you already know. I got my last rejection letter today”, her throat catching on the second sentence. She couldn’t continue any further. Luckily, Jo had a tendency to like the sound of their own voice and all but interrupted her.

“Oh Lady Jane, I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that at all. Urgh, that asshole! That prick! That… man.” Claire was glad the coffee shop was crowded at this lunch hour and no one seemed to notice her friend’s enthusiastic rant. "Why are men? You know, I think this is part of the reason why I’m nonbinary. I mean I don’t fully identify as a woman, but I definitely can’t identify as a man. Men are trash. The goddamn patriarchy. I swear. You know. Frank or not, not one of those school’s would’ve rejected you if you were a man.”

This was exactly what Claire needed from her friend, a pep-talk-slash-rant against the patriarchy. She loved it when Jo got fired up; it was honestly inspiring how they could always live their truth regardless of what everyone else thought. So unlike herself, whose life was constantly dictated by what everyone else thought of her. Jo made a compelling point too-- if I were a man they’d say I played the field before I found someone to commit to, and that would be ok--every conquest I had made would make me more of a boss. Jo’s inspiring speech was turning Claire’s sense of dejection into righteous anger directed not only at Frank, but the patriarchy as a whole.

“Yeah! I’m so sick of running as fast as I can wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man!” she declared. Gosh Jo was a good hype-man, hype-person, she mentally corrected herself. She had learned a lot about preferred pronouns in the years of knowing Jo, but she still got tripped up on certain colloquialisms--luckily Jo was always gracious even when she made these mistakes out loud.

“Claire, if you were a man you’d be the man, and as it stands you are the woman, woah, man!”

Claire couldn’t help but giggle at her friend’s manner of speaking. They were always a little much, and usually it was just what Claire needed when she was down. Their knack for pointing to the larger societal issues at play helped her to keep grounded and to realize that she was not at fault. This particular case wasn’t dismissed so easily though; the shame she felt still gnawed at something deep within her. Even if it was the patriarchy’s fault, it was her fault too.

“This is really bothering you, huh LJ?” Claire nodded sheepishly. Damn my glass face. “I’m so sick of him coming at me again.”

“It’s ok to be mad,” Jo affirmed, reaching over to stroke Claire’s forearm in an attempt to bring some comfort. “So, what are we going to do about it? Let’s brainstorm the next move. What is it you really want, Claire?”

Over the next hour and a half, Jo helped Claire untangle what she really wanted: to prove everyone wrong. For everyone to say she’d hustled and put in the work. This was decided amid quips from Jo about how easy it was for men to get these things: “They’re painting you out to be bad--for men it’s all good if you're bad”, “If you were out flashing your dollars you’d be a bitch not a baller.” They determined that Claire would spend the next year padding her resume, not only working her job as a school nurse, but volunteering in hospitals and clinics as well as any other community service projects that came her way. When the time came, she would apply to all the best residency programs in the country. Without Frank tying her down in New York, she could go anywhere. She tried to push out the little voice in her head that kept whispering, ‘What about Jamie?’ as she dreamed about being a strong, independent woman at the top of her game. Not one half of a power couple--just Claire: complex, cool, fearless Claire full of good ideas and power moves. They would toast to her successes, not the rock on her finger. She knew she could do it. Frank may have placed success just out of her reach, but she knew where to get a step ladder.

#outlander fanfic #outlander fic #outlander #jamie x claire #claire beauchamp #lover #inspired by taylor swift #modern au

38 notes · View notes

doyouevenshipbr0 · 4 years

Text

hi again yall!!!! wowza this is v last second! but im here for day 2!! hope everyone is enjoying bc i know i certainly LOVE seeing what everyone is posting:) keep it up<3

gruvia week day 2: alluring

*SOME BACKGROUND FOR THIS FIC BTW!!!!!!! so this is based on the doodles mashima posted a while ago of gray and juvia at that spa together. if u dont know what im talking about, it’s fine, you should still be able to follow along, i just wanted to give some context!*

Gray sighed with relief when he finally got back to his room. He should’ve known that at some point Juvia would try and pull something like that. Especially since their relationship was a bit of a question at the moment, and they were at this awkward phase between “just friends” and “in a relationship”. Basically, Gray was keeping her at bay with the label of “something more”, but naturally, Juvia was eager to solidify their status.

He was slightly reluctant to take this weekend trip to the spa with all of his friends, since he wasn’t much of the “spa” type, but thinking about how he could finally just kick back and relax got him really looking forward to it. Of course, he planned on spending time with Juvia as well, but just maybe not in the way she inteneded. Gray hit his palm to his forehead for falling for it.

“Idiot.” He said under his breath. As he stood in his silent room, the image of Juvia sitting next to him in the bath with him was deafening. There he sat, thinking he was in the onsen all alone, and then bam: Juvia appeared through the water.

He was mortified at first, but once he saw how upset she got when he asked her to leave, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty. Then, Juvia just had to take it to the extreme, though, and lean in for a kiss. She was always the bold type, but her being drunk just amplified it. That was when Gray really lost it, creating an ice wall between he and Juvia and running off to his room.

While the whole situation was annoying, he just could not get the picture of Juvia out of his head. The water was cloudy since it was so hot, so he couldn’t see much of her, but he was doing everything in his power not to look, anyway. Just when he thought he had himself and the situation under control, Juvia just had to look up at him with those eyes.

They were glossed over with tears, as she was upset with Gray not wanting her there. Her long lashes were coated with water droplets, and her lips were pouted in the most unintentionally suggestive way. Her hair was wet, and it was messily framed against her face. Her arms were wrapped around herself, but her breasts still peaked out on top of the water, and their fullness was still very evident. Even though they gleamed due to the way the water and the light hit them, Gray did absolutely everything in his power to not let them take ahold of him.

Gray snapped out of his reminiscing, and shook his head back and forth. “Knock it off.” He thought to himself. “She’s your friend.” Of course, he was lying to himself.

He cracked open a bottle of liquor, taking a swig of it to try and numb his mind so he wouldn’t have to think about—well—- that.

Just when he thought he could get the thought out of his head, there was a soft knock on the door. Shortly after, a soft voice followed with: “Gray-sama?”

“Shit.” He said under his breath. What should he do? Pretend to be asleep? Yeah, that was good. He stayed silent and hoped that Juvia would eventually walk away. After about 15 seconds of silence, he realized it wasn’t like Juvia to just walk away, and figured he might as well take another swig of his liquor and bite the bullet.

He opened his sliding door to see Juvia, thankfully wrapped up in a robe, planted right there. Her hair was still slightly wet, and her skin was tinted pink from the heat if the onsen. She looked up at him with eyes that still glimmered with dampness, and her lip still gave a pout, but it was slightly different this time.

Gray sighed. “Look, I’m sorry for causin’ a scene and storming out like that but you-“

“No!” Juvia held up her hands, telling Gray to stop. “Don’t, please. Juvia should be the one apologizing. That’s what I came here to do.”

Gray looked down at her and could tell, just as usual, she was sincere as ever. “Alright.” He paused for a moment. “Wanna’ come in?” Gray realized what inviting a woman into his room might imply, but he really didn’t mean it like that, and while he didn’t want Juvia to get the wrong idea either (and if she did she would certainly jump on it), he did actually want to spend time with her. Afterall, she was his— friend—or—- something like that.

Juvia’s sulking came to a halt, and her lips curled as she gave a sure nod.

“Want a drink?” Gray motioned to his liquor he just opened.

“Juvia shouldn’t. I’m sure you could tell from before, but Juvia has certainly had enough to drink, and honestly I’m still not quite sober.” She nervously giggled.

“Suit yourself.” Gray shrugged.

“So...” Juvia began, and started scanning the room. She did a full 360 degrees during her examination. “This is Gray-sama’s room? Where Gray-sama sleeps and everything.” She gave a mischievous giggle, and Gray could tell where her mind was headed.

“Aaand you made it creepy.” He said, defeated, sitting on the ground.

“Creepy?! Juvia’s just admiring the very room where Gray-sama lives.” She swooned.

“Yeah, for the weekend. Now relax and take a seat.” He couldn’t help but give a small chuckle. She was certainly entertaining, to say the least.

“Again, Juvia is very sorry.” She sat down, and her tone regained some seriousness. “Juvia should not have been so— well— forward, I suppose.”

“Ya think?” Gray snorted.

“Juvia just wants to spend time with Gray-sama!”

“And you think I don’t wanna’ spend time with you?!” Gray said it so fast, he didn’t even have time to think before he said it, but boy he really said it. Both of their cheeks instantly lit up with pink.

“Gray-sama wants to spend time with Juvia?!” Her face sparkled with a smile.

“Urgh!” Gray furrowed his brow and looked to the side. There wasn’t any getting out of this one. “Yeah. I do, ok?” He mumbled.

Juvia giddily laughed and lightly clapped her hands. “Well that makes Juvia very happy.”

Gray looked back to Juvia’s direction, and his heart thumped a bit louder at the sight. He finally noticed that from sitting down, her robe was slightly disheveled, leaving more of an opening for her chest to peak out. Her hair was less damp now, and it seemed a bit more kinky than normal. Her face changed from that promiscuous pout to a bright smile, yet, it still gave Gray that same odd feeling.

“Think we could try again tomorrow? Maybe this time Juvia won’t show up drunk and naked in your bath.” She sounded a bit more nervous and laughed, possibly at least a bit more aware of what she had done earlier. It was a lot even for her.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Gray grinned and nodded.

“Sounds good, but...” Juvia’s finger drew shapes on her lap as she looked down, like she wa stalling for something. “Juvia would still like to keep talking to Gray-sama now, if that’s alright.” Gray couldn’t help but notice how adorable she was. While he had gotten used to and grown to enjoy her forwardness, seeing her be a bit hesitant was cute as well.

“Sounds good to me.” Gray said, contently.

Juvia perked up and smiled. “Great!” She brushed some locks behind her ear and sat up straight, attentive to Gray. “So, what’s Gray-sama’s favorite part about the spa so far?”

It was interesting, because it may just seem like mindless small talk, but not for Juvia. Gray could tell that Juvia was actually interested in what Gray had to say. She wanted to have actual, meaningful, conversations, and that was something Gray always appreciated about her: that she cared so deeply.

Even the little things like this made Juvia so alluring. As much as he may be reluctant to admit it, everything she did drew him closer to her. Earlier, the way she looked in the onsen, and even to now, her sitting in his room, asking him about his day with a genuine smile on her face, it was all pulling him in closer.

He loved every sight she had in store for him.

#gruvia week #gruvia #doyouevenshipbr0 #juvia #gruvia drabble #gruvia fanfiction #ft #fairy tail #gruvia fanfic #gray x juvia #juvia x gray

114 notes · View notes

bereft-of-frogs · 3 years

Text

2020 Fic Year in Review

I was tagged by @aurorawest ! I’d been planning on doing something similar eventually and I like the directed questions here, so it worked out well.

Total number of completed stories: 27

Total word count: (I’m terrible about keeping track of word counts so this is total posted word count, thank you ao3 statistics) 189,970

Fandoms written in: MCU, the very tiny fandom of the Netflix series Into the Night, and I got one very, very short Les Misérables fic done

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? I guess about what I expected? Maybe a bit more, actually, I only ended up being about 40k short of my word count from last year, I didn’t think I’d actually get anywhere close. So that’s good!

What’s your own favorite story of the year? For the tiny airplane fandom, I really liked ‘we are the sleepers, we bite our tongues’. And I’m just going to keep saying ‘where is your sting’ for the MCU lol.

Even though also, I mean, ‘alone amidst the ruins’ is definitely the one I’m most proud of. I worked so hard on it. I just don’t revisit it as much because I spent so much time working on it, whereas I do occasionally reread ‘where is your sting’. XD

Did you take any writing risks this year? Hm. Striking out in a new, very different fandom was a bit of a risk. One that resulted in multiple nights looking up things like ‘how to fly a plane’. :) And also it was really the first time I started writing for a fandom that I had 0 other input other than canon. Before I start writing for a new fandom, I’ve usually read a whole lot of fic and gotten a sense of the audience and what else is out there. But...there was nothing else out there when I started writing. This was all me and it was a little intimidating, especially with some of the technical stuff.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? Several! 2021 New Year’s Writing Resolutions:

- Not have such a damned complex about writing. Look. I had a whole time this year, I think we all did, and I just want myself to chill tf out about this one thing. Just chill out a little bit, self. Chill.

- Write about more space ghosts. And by that I mean more episodic space adventure plus magic and/or ghosts (bonus points for ghosts) style fics. Sort of along the lines of some of my older whumptober prompts (like ‘1. stabbed’ ‘5. poisoned’ and ‘7. kidnapped’ from ‘pain and other human sensations’ or ‘hurts like ghosts’). I didn’t really do any this year, had a lot more short, angsty fics. The closest I think I got was the whumptober prompt ‘enemy to caretaker’ or maybe ‘withdrawal’. But I have some ideas and even though those fics are a lot of work because of worldbuilding stuff, I want to do that work because they’re really my favorite type of fics.

- Make progress on series. I’d really like to get my next fic in ‘the nine in the tree’ finished before the next Doctor Strange movie is released, and make some progress on the third fic in ‘the dead reign there alone’ considering it’s been like...a long time and I think if I make any progress on it, I’ll feel better.

- Write more second drafts. Oof. Like, this is the most obvious advice that I should have absorbed a lot time ago, but like...writing a second draft makes the writing better. I get that now. I probably won’t do full second drafts for everything, but yeah. More focus on editing/rewriting in the new year.

Most popular story of the year? ‘like a tear on a cheek’ got the most kudos, by quite a bit. I’m happy for it, it was really sappy and indulgent, and kind of a mouthpiece for my own thoughts about forgiveness and redemption. I think that probably struck a chord XD

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: I logically know why this is the case, but tbh my two more extreme AUs I think were slightly underappreciated, if I do say so myself. I did my first actual all-human AU with ‘panic room’ in January, and then my ‘medieval-ish’ fantasy AU ‘a keen scourge through the wintry air’. Like, I get why these didn’t get as much attention as others I wrote this year, I still think they’re a little underappreciated. XD

Most fun story to write: Obviously, I found ‘where is your sting’ to be the most fun. ghosts in space!. It was pure Sakaar Trash Party with ghosts and overwrought dialogue, I had a lot of fun.

Most unintentionally telling story: in a chapter of ‘alone amidst the ruins’, I included a line about the WHO advising on the wearing of masks.

a line that I swear to God, I wrote last year. got to it during the rewrite and had to go lie down for a bit.

Biggest disappointment: Even if I knew I probably wasn’t going to get all the way through the whumptober prompts this year (2018 was a - somewhat scary in hindsight - lightning strike of dedication and inspiration. I don’t know how I did Fall 2018 and I’m not sure it will ever happen again), but I would have liked to finish the ones I had started. Coming up on the end of the year and I’ve left one multichapter fic hanging, and still haven’t finished the ‘possession’ one which should be easy to finish.

This is also more a regret than a disappointment but I do sort of now regret my choice to publish all the whumptober prompts separately. Urgh, I think I would just be happier if they were organized into collections by fandom, they just bury everything else and some of them are so short and I really, really wish I had stuck with my method of organizing them in one document. Errrrr, regret. Like there are definitely benefits to doing it this way, but...still. Wish I had done it the other way.

Biggest surprise: Honestly, getting any comments and kudos from the tiny airplane fandom was an absolutely delightful surprise. Thank you, anyone who kudosed any of those works <3

- - -

So, 2020. What the fuck was that, am I right? It honestly feels like another world already. Like I’ll remember doing something and be like...hm not sure that actually happened to me, sort of feels like that happened to someone else and I just watched. I know I’m supposed to tag people, but also #SocialAnxiety (even in fandom). but please please please if you are a fic writer and want to take a moment to reflect on your writing experience this year, consider this an open tag!!!

#thank you for tagging me!

6 notes · View notes

toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years

Text

Devil in disguise 3/3

Summary: You weren’t the girl who get attention from guys. You were the friend that always ended up alone at the bar, nursing her drink until you got home by yourself, while your friends took home someone. That’s how you suppossed this night would go to. Until an Apple Martini you didn’t order was set down in front of you. Looking around to make out who had ordered it for you, you saw him. John Wick.

Pairing: John Wick / F! plus size Reader

Wordcount: 3.723

Warnings: fluf. (SO much fluff) a tiny bit of smut, shopping for a bathing suit (this should be a warning cause if you hate it as much as i do.. urgh)

A/N: There we are. The last chapter. The response to this fic was really overwhelming. I seem to have struck a nerve. Thank you all so much for your response. Hope you love the last chapter.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@meetmeinthematinee / @hisdeadwife / @fanficsrusz / @mrrightismrreeves / @ladyreapermc / @theolsdalova / @pinkzsugar / @ivymiiru / @paanchu786 / @penwieldingdreamer / @greenmanalishi / @itsmydreamlifethings / @blackeyedangel9805 / @wiskey-chaser

It was noon when you woke up. And you felt sore in all the right places, a smile sneaking to your face as you looked up at John, your head still resting on his chest.

How could this man have killed people for a living? He was so gentle when he was with you. Breathing in deep you sighed as you breathed out. You loved him. You really did. All you had to do, was to tell him.

“Princess?” He whispered, making you smile.

“Yes?” You whispered back.

“I think I love you.” He opened his eyes as he said those words. Looking at him with big eyes for seconds you burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry... It's just... I think you can read my mind.” You said as John looked at you with a blank face.

“I was thinking about how I love you just before you said it.” You looked up at him and could see him breathe out relieved before his arms pulled you up to him, you lying on top as he brought his lips to yours. Feeling his hands on your naked body you sighed.

“Aren't you hungry?” You asked against his lips as his hands slowly massaged your back, sneaking lower.

“Not for food.” He groaned and pulled the covers over you.

“So, the things you did...” You said as you laid with your head propped on his lap the day before your final exam.

“Yes.” John said looking down at you.

“Was it easy for you? Like I don't want to get in it too deep because I know you don't do that anymore... You don't, don't you?” You asked.

“I don't. Never will again.” He nodded.

“Like how did you even get into doing this? And why did the people look away when you walked by them? And... And that is a question I was always most curious about, how much money does someone like you get?” You babbled, not being able to stop yourself. John brushed away a stray of hair and sighed before he began to talk and told you everything.

With tears in your eyes, you looked up at him as he finished, reaching for his hand, kissing his palm.

“I'll keep you safe from this world from now on.” You whispered.

Smiling he looked down at you. His fingers tracing the lines of your face.

“Have you thought about what you wanna do now?” You asked, wondering if now was the time to tell him that you had put on some applications for your residency across Europe and already got one offer.

“I put the house on the market and I was thinking about going to Europe. I can do my book stuff from all over the world. But...” He stopped.

“But?” You asked.

“I don't want to leave you. God that sounded cheesy.” He shook his head chuckling.

“We've only known each other for like 6 weeks.” You said and he nodded.

“But what if I would tell you I had sent out applications for my residency to Europe? And what would you say if I already have one offer out of these.”

“Are you serious?” John asked and you only nodded, slowly pushing yourself up, straddling him, your arms crossed behind his neck.

“So if I don't fail my exam..”

“You won't.”

“And say I would move to Stockholm to work there...” You smiled.

“Sweden?” He asked you nodded.

“I could live in Sweden.” He said quietly.

“You could.” You said softly.

“We could live in Sweden together.”

“We should.” You nodded.

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Absolutely.” You smiled back before his lips captured yours in a sweet kiss.

John took you out to dinner to celebrate you passing your last exam. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your red dress hugging your body, ending just beneath your knee, leaving your shoulders free. Straightening it with the palm of your hands you smiled at yourself as you put your earrings in. You had put a little more effort into your looks today. It was the first time John was taking you out. With you being busy studying and John wrapping up his old life you didn't really get to go out.

You had styled your longish growing hair in big waves, your lips painted sinfully red, the same color as your dress. Nothing and no one would ruin this night for you. You heard a knock on your door.

“Coming!” You called, slipping into your high heels, grabbing your black purse. Opening the door you bit your lip as you saw John. He was wearing one of his dark suits but with a white dress shirt, no tie and the first 2 buttons opened. It looked like he had a new haircut, an inch or two missing in its length. He was holding a single white rose in his hand.

“You look absolutely breathtaking.” He said, bending down to kiss you softly, his hand resting on your hip as you brought one of your hands up to touch his chest.

“You look hot too.” You whispered against his lips, making him grin.

“This is too much John.” You said after he had sat down across from you. You looked through the elegant room, admiring the clean design. This must cost a fortune.

“It's our first date. And we're celebrating you getting your PhD.” He said warmly, reaching for your hand across the table.

Sighing you took his hand, smiling.

“Good Evening Mr. Wick.” You were interrupted as the waiter brought the menu.

John only nodded, taking the menu as you took yours, the waiter walking away.

“They know you here?” You asked quietly.

He nodded. “Sorry. I don't think there is a place in Manhattan I can go where no one knows who I am.” He apologized.

“That's kinda hot.” You grinned before you hid your face behind the menu.

The food was extraordinary. It had to be the tastiest meal you had ever had. Apart from John's lasagna of course. John paid before you could even glance at the bill, making you glare at him. You knew about his wealth. He had told you that he probably wouldn't have to work for a single day again in his life and still would have more than enough money left. That wasn't something you were used to. You never had anyone handing you anything. You worked and worked hard so you could live a comfortable life. Always had.

“What are you thinking about?” John asked, his hand holding yours as you walked down the crosswalk.

“You.” You smiled a little, looking up from your side at him.

“Only good things I hope.” He teased.

“Always good things.” You said, leaving his hand and bringing your arm around his back, sneaking under his jacket, your head resting on his shoulder.

“You have another week off, don't you?” He asked as he put his arm around you, bringing you closer to his side, as you continued walking down the street towards where he had parked his car.

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about taking a short trip into the sun?”

“That sounds like something I can't afford.” You said right away, making him sigh as he stopped walking. Looking up at him, you saw his frown.

“If this is going to work you need to let me take care of you. Do you want to go on a trip?” He asked.

Sighing you nodded.

“Then let's go on a trip. You deserve it.” He leaned down, kissing your nose, making you giggle.

“I love you, John.” You smiled at him.

“Love you too.” He smiled back.

“I do need a new bathing suit if we're going on a trip.”

“No, you don't.” He grinned, letting his hand rest on your ass, making you shake your head chuckling.

“Yes, I do.” You scolded him with a smile on your face.

“Fine.” He shrugged.

Shopping. Why did you agree to go shopping in an actual store? With people? There was a reason you preferred online shopping. First of all, you could spend hours on your couch browsing for the cheapest option. Then you could order 2, sometimes 3 sizes because no size was ever the same. And then you could try it on at home. But with him booking a short trip, leaving tomorrow you had to go to the store.

John insisted on coming with you. He also insisted on paying and you just couldn't say no to him as he looked down at you with his eyes, pleading you.

Nadia had shown you the store you were in now, because against your better judgment and saving money everywhere you could, you were drawing a line at buying underwear, or in your case today a new bathing suit. And maybe some new lingerie, now that you had someone who could peel it off of you.

“You look like you're having fun.” You teased John as he browsed through the shelves. He was standing in front of a black lace bodysuit that left little to the imagination.

“Just picturing you wearing this.” He whispered as he leaned down to you, kissing your cheek. Nodding you grinned.

“What about you pick 3 and I pick 3? And then we decide.”

“Do I get to watch you try it on?” He asked, eyebrow raised, his eyes wickedly grinning at you.

“If you're a very good boy.” You whispered back, patting his chest as you turned around to head for the swimsuits. Looking over your shoulder, you saw him watching you, making you grin to yourself.

Rolling your eyes at yourself as you looked at you in the floor-length mirror you sighed. How could it be that not any of the bathing suits you had tried on fitted? Either they sat great on your chest but were not wide enough on your hip or the other way around.

Exhausted you sighed. Maybe you should go naked after all. Putting on the bikini John had picked out you were surprised that it actually fit and you looked good in it. The high waist making your ass look the perfect shape.

“How is it going in there?” You heard John ask from outside.

“Wanna take a look?” You asked. You saw the curtain shuffle before John's head appeared. Turning around you put a hand on your hip, looking at him as his eyes darkened.

“What do you think?”

“Nothing I can tell you while we're in public.” He said, voice hoarse, making you grin. It was like a moment of clarity. Never would you let the outside world drag you down again. Not when you had someone like John Wick who looked at you like you were his whole world.

“Okay. So we found a bathing suit. I'll be trying on the rest now.” You said your eyes glancing at the very little fabric John had picked out.

“I want to see every single one of those before we buy them.” He said.

“I will think about it, Mr. Wick.” You stepped towards him, pecking him on the lips, before you pushed him out, making him laugh.

Pulling on the bodysuit John had eyed in the beginning you couldn't help the dirty grin on your face. You looked good. Sexy even. About to call for John you heard a voice outside, you knew all too well. Stepping closer to the curtain you listened.

“What are you doing here John? Need something to wear?” It was Nadia.

“Actually here to pick up some stuff for my girlfriend, Miss Tarasov.” You heard John reply.

“Uhh... Girlfriend? That must be the first time I hear you use that phrase for one of your affairs.” Nadia teased. You could picture her stupid grin as she said it. Nadia had been a great friend in the beginning. Helping you study for your first exam. That's how you met her. As you were learning anatomy in a Starbucks and she had been fascinated by it. But over the years it got less and less the more she only seemed to care about the men around her.

You could almost picture John standing in front of her, trying not to roll his eyes. Deciding that it was time to rescue him you took a last look at you in the mirror.

“John? Babe? I need some help!” You called before you opened the curtain revealing just your upper body, your eyes searching for his. Nadia was standing in front of him with nothing but a bra and her jeans on. Pathetic, you thought to yourself.

As both of them turned to look at you, you could almost see the relief in his eyes, followed by his eyes darkening as he spotted the lace you were wearing.

Nadia blinked a couple of times as if she wanted to make sure she was seeing right.

“Her?” She asked scuffing, her eyes so full of judgment as she looked at you.

“Yes. Her.” John said smiling before he left her standing, pulling the curtain to the side and stepping into the dressing room, closing the curtain behind him.

You were leaning against the mirror as he looked at you, his eyes roaming over your whole body as if he was about to eat you.

Stepping closer to you he closed his eyes, breathing in deep.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He whispered. Looking up at him, you reached for his bulge, already feeling his cock hard, stretching the fabric of his pants.

“I have some idea...” You whispered before his lips crashed down on yours. Taking your hands in his he put them over your head, stepping closer to you, pushing his body against yours. Moaning into his mouth as you felt him rub himself against you, you let your head fall back, his lips leaving yours to kiss down your neck.

“John.. We can't... Not here...”

“I know.” He groaned against your neck, his hands still keeping your pressed against the mirror.

“Doesn't change the fact that I want you.” He said, nibbling on your earlobe.

“Then let's get home.” You moaned quietly, arching your back to get some friction.

“But you haven't tried everything on yet.” He whispered, his hands leaving yours, his fingers pushing down the straps of your bodysuit.

“And you're going to help me?” You asked, biting your lip as he kissed the top of your breasts.

“I am certainly not going out there alone.” He whispered, his mouth closing around your nipple, making you moan his name louder than intended, you hand flying over your mouth as he chuckled.

“If you don't stop...” You whispered as he slowly peeled the bodysuit off of you, throwing it on the seat in the corner of the dressing room, leaving you in you nude panties you had put on today.

“What then?” He asked, kneeling down in front of you.

“Jonathan.” You breathed in as you felt his hands on your thigh. He was looking up at you as he leaned closer, pulling your leg over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh.

“Can you keep quiet?” He asked, his finger pushing your panties to the side.

“I don't think so.” You whimpered, as his finger brushed through your folds.

“Then make sure to scream my name so she can hear you,” John whispered against you before his tongue flicked over your clit.

Your serotonin was at such a high level you couldn't even be embarrassed as you stepped out of the dressing room, John and you walking hand in hand towards the cashier. The whole store probably had heard the two of you as he fucked you against the mirror, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

“Found everything?” The lady cashier asked trying to hide her grin.

“Oh yes. Everything.” You grinned at her, catching Nadia in the far corner looking at you as John put all the stuff you had tried on on the desk. He bent down to kiss your cheek before he searched for his wallet, putting his credit card on the table before you could even reach for your purse.

Shaking your head you watched as everything you bought was put in bags.

“Dinner is on me.” You said, leaving no room to argue.

“Yes, Princess.” He said as he grabbed the bags, his arms coming around your shoulder. Not even looking at Nadia as you walked past her you smiled as you stepped outside, leading John to your favorite Chinese restaurant.

You were surprised by what the right amount of money could do when you had decided to leave the country.

You had taken the job at the hospital in Stockholm which would start within 6 weeks of accepting the offer. Which left you panicking if you could take care of all the things one had to take care of before leaving the country and moving to another one. John had sold his house in Mills Neck you never had seen for a HUGE amount of money and had presented you with three houses near Stockholm he was eyeing to buy.

“I guess we're really doing this.” You said as you sat on his lap, Dog beside you as he showed you pictures of the houses.

“We are.” He said, his cheek against yours as both of you watched what he had picked out.

“I love this one. It's a seafront house with a huge garden.”

“It's also the most expensive one.” You added, making him sigh.

“Ignore the price. Do you like it?” He asked.

You loved it. If someone told you to describe your dream home it would be this. It looked like a little ranch directly at the sea. A jetty for a little boat or two. It was newly renovated and looked straight out of your dreams.

“I love it.” You sighed.

“Then let's buy it.”

“John... I can't just let you buy and take care of everything. What if this doesn't work out? Between us?” You asked quietly. You felt his arm tighten around you.

“Do you think it won't?”

“No. Actually, I am waiting for the day we argue for the first time. It's all so new. I never felt like that before.”

“Like what?” He asked. Turning your head to look into his eyes you breathed in deep.

“Like I'm home. I love you so much it scares me sometimes. You love me for me. You see me. With you beside me, I feel safe. I don't even see the other people judging me anymore. And we've only known each other for two months but I don't think I can ever live without you anymore.” You felt the tears in your eyes. John looked at you with so much love.

“Marry me.” He said, adding your name.

Looking at him with an open mouth you tried to talk but couldn't.

“Not now. Not tomorrow, just. Marry me. Some day.” He added, his hand reaching for your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Swallowing you felt yourself nod.

“Yes. I'll marry you. Some day.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked smiling happily.

“Yes, John.” You grinned before you leaned into him and kissed him.

“Did you use my name?” You asked as you parted. Grinning he nodded at you.

“How long did you know?”

“From the night we met.” He smiled, making you shake your head grinning before you kissed him again.

Learning Swedish was harder than you thought it would be. But you loved learning new things. You had left the states almost 4 months ago, making it the best decision of your life as you took the job in Stockholm. Even more, you loved the fact that you got to do everything with John. He was standing at the water, enjoying the last rays of sunshine for the day. You had come home form your last shift only minutes ago, Dog welcoming you at the door as you pulled off your work clothes. You could see that he had been working in the garden the whole day, his skin glistening with sweat in the sunlight as you sneaked towards him, only wearing your long tank top and your underwear. It was a hot summer in Sweden.

Kissing his back before you put your arms around him, your head resting on his back you breathed him in.

“Hey.” You said.

“Hey, Princess. Long day?” He asked, turning his head so he could look at you.

“Longest day. I'm dead tired. All I want is a shower, a pizza, and my bed. The garden looks great.”

“Thank you.” He said, turning in your arms, putting his around yours.

“Pizza will be here in 30 minutes.”

“God, I love you.” You smiled exhausted as you looked up at him.

“You only love me for my ability to provide you with food after work.” He teased.

“That might be true.” You shrugged, sucking your bottom lip in to keep you from grinning.

“You shouldn't have said that.” He said lowly, picking you up in his arms.

“John...” You said carefully.

“JOHN!” You laughed, clinging to his chest as he walked to the jetty.

“You wanted a shower” he grinned before he ran towards the edge jumping into the water with you in his arms, making you scream.

“Not like that.” You pouted as you surfaced from under the water, swimming towards him.

Pulling you to his chest he grinned at you.

“We have 30 minutes.”

“Better be quick then.” You grinned back before you kissed him.

(for people who are interested in the house click)

#fanfic #fanfiction #john wick #john wick x you #john wick x reader #john wick fluff #john wick fanfiction #devil in disguise #keanu reeves

122 notes · View notes

thatboxylady · 4 years

Text

haha my hand slipped oops

consider this sort of a teaser for the big Beast Machines fic that I am publishing later this year (or early next year). don’t worry about it. it’s fine. yeah. everything is f ine.........

- - -

“Rain”

In the years following Megatron’s takeover of Cybertron, pollution from the mass production of Vehicons had choked the life out its atmosphere— far more than what was to be expected for a planet that was just a hunk of metal.

When the sun did manage to come through the clouds, it was always in a haze that clogged your intakes. Cleaning your vents was mandatory maintenance if you wanted to avoid accidently cooking your internals on a hot night. Visibility was throttled through the smog on the best days, thick like smoke on the worst. It was amazing that the organic-half of the Maximals managed to survive as long as they had… maybe the whole techno-organic spiel that Primal constantly spat wasn’t so organic after all. The few humans that managed to survive the initial siege were dead by the end of the first year of Megatron’s not-so-little uprising— suffocated by the air they had tried so hard to improve when the Pax Cybertronia was first passed. If they were lucky, the Maximals would go the same way. Eventually. Hopefully.

But the rain. The rain. Not quite concentrated to the point where it was pure acid, but that slag was awful if you let it stick to you for too long. It seared white streaks on Cybertropolis’ skyscrapers where it chewed away paint and eroded just about everything else that wasn’t glass or metal. Jetstorm’s wings always tingled in the worst ways after the sky decided to start spitting. The sensation stayed for days after even after a good chemical wash if he wasn’t careful.

So how the frag Thrust could tolerate it was a mystery. Acid ate through rubber way faster than it tore through anything else on Cybertron, and the cycle-general had been driving laps for the better part of the hour on exposed tires.

In a torrential downpour.

Like a goddamn maniac.

Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment?

Jetstorm kept himself tucked under the overpass as he watched the other general start another lap. It was a rudimentary figure eight pattern, taking the freeway entrance going southbound and exiting at the next mile marker before looping back down. Over and over again. Something just… wasn’t right with ground-pounders. How the frag could they manage to keep their sanity following the same roads all the time? The smaller mech was dwarfed by the eight lanes he was weaving between, skirting past obstacles as he came up on them. For the most part Thrust travelled in the same lane, practicing drifting off the exit whenever they came up. Tightening the turns every time. The sound of the mech’s engine revving up and down popped like individual gunshots.

The echo was particularly obnoxious with the acoustics surrounding Jetstorm’s current perch. The flier pulled his wings tight against his body as he leaned as far in as possible out of the rain. So much for a “quick” run. Five cycles, Thrust said. Five! What a load of scrap this whole thing was.

The jet scowled when the other general swerved to purposely hit a puddle on the next lap back. Then, as to be expected, Thrust immediately spun out and ended up hitting the dividing wall to the opposite highway. The maroon mech transformed in time to catch himself on the barricade and let loose a string of swears on impact. The resulting crunch wasn’t pleasant sounding, but Thrust was still cursing when he bounced off the wall and went down. Alive… good! No need to rush out in the rain to pick up his partner’s body, or something.

Jetstorm waited for the sky to stop dumping before floating down. Thrust had rolled onto his back, arm raised to shield his face from spare droplets still coming from the low hanging clouds.

The blue mech leaned over him. “You finished, biker boy?”

“Nice of you to harp on my rescue,” Thrust said. He reached up with a clawed servo, finally revealing his face. The mech’s visor was cracked. “You gonna gawk at me all day, or am I actually gonna get a leg up from you?”

Jetstorm held out his servo, yanking Thrust upward when they made contact. He pulled the other mech up— and kept pulling. The momentum brought Thrust upward too fast for him to regain his balance. He immediately pitched forward and ended up face first in the asphalt again. The sound of armor on concrete was grating.

“Aurgh! Storm!”

“You said you needed a leg up. Not that you needed to stay up.” Jetstorm scoffed at the streaks in his partner’s armor. He crossed his massive arms in disgust. “Eugh. You look hideous.”

“Don’t be so blue about it.”

“Did you just... use a pun? On me?” Jetstorm kept sneering, but this time he couldn’t help but feel a little stupid about it. "I could just— I will beat you to death with my bare servos. You know that, don’t you?”

“Cute.” Thrust propped himself back up on his own. He was a little less helpless when he wasn’t stuck on his back. As he turned, Jetstorm could see that the treads on his tire were almost bald. There was no way that wasn’t going to be sore. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’m cold and wet, and I want to go somewhere that isn’t dripping with anything that’s gonna corrode this paintjob!” Jetstorm bristled at the sound of thunder. “I am not letting myself get caught in another— urgh! How can you stand that?”

“Eeh. The tingling’s not so bad once you get used to it. Rain wasn’t even that concentrated this time.” Thrust shook his head where it was still dripping with excess water. Then he allowed the shuddering motion to carry into his shoulders and downward. Water flew off his armor. Jetstorm recoiled to avoid being hit, raising his taloned hands in self-defense. The cycle-general swayed but otherwise kept himself from falling over again when he was finished. “Just gotta pop yourself into a working CR tank. Buffs everything right out.”

“That stuff is gross. You’re gross. Stop it. You will never get me into one of those things.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’d rather have me buff out your wings. I remember.” Thrust rolled past, wincing. He’d visibly damaged one of the shock supports in his suspension on the right side, giving him a tilted “limp” that looked even more sore than his tire. “You keep overloading whenever I do, though.”

“Mmm, speaking of which...” It was a nice subject change. Jetstorm let Thrust pass him before turning to follow, keeping close as a precaution— just in case the damaged support gave out. He wondered if he had aggravated the injury by allowing him to fall that second time. Not that he was worried or anything. That would be… “Well. Never mind.”

“What? You not in the mood for anything?”

“You’re not exactly in good working condition, biker boy.”

“I can take my fair share of hits.”

“Why did you even aim for the puddle, anyways?”

They made it to the shadow of the next overpass when Thrust leaned into him in the dark. Right where no prying optics could see them. Just for balance. Yeah. Jetstorm, being the superior mech he was, allowed the temporary contact as a show of good faith. No other reason.

“You’re warm,” Thrust muttered.

“You’re drenched, and you still didn’t answer my question.”

The cyclist hummed. The answer was exactly as dumb as he expected for the grounder. “Why not? Looked like it might be fun. You should try it sometimes. Y’know. Stuff that’s actually fun. Not just goading the she-spider or shooting the rest of the Paw Patrol.”

Jetstorm sighed, turning around. He aimed his primary weapons, allowed time for a sufficient charge, and fired off a single plasma round. The shot warbled as it singed the humid air, striking the original underpass where he had been sheltering. The bridge immediately collapsed in an upheaval of debris and fire. It cleaved through the highway below and destroyed the bridge suspension. All eight lanes converged in a crumbling twist of shattered asphalt and bent titanium beams.

Thrust shouted and reeled back as the ground shook, catching himself on the closest barricade again. As the crumbling structure tore through the road, water sprayed upward from thousands of puddles now ruined.

“Huh. Whatcha know? That was kind of fun,” Jetstorm said.

Thrust buried his face in his servos and muttered something about needing to find him a hobby, or literally anything other than goddamn feral vandalism.

#beast machines #mccadam #jetstorm #transformers #boxy does fanfic #thrust/jetstorm #HEY IF YOU GUYS WANT MORE I WILL TOTALLY PUBLISH MORE DRABBLES MAYBE #this is a good ship and I will throw hands with blackarachnia personally #jetstorm voice: get me wet and I will BLUDGEON YOU to DEATH with my MASSIVE BASTARD HANDS

5 notes · View notes

quercussp · 4 years

Text

The Fantastic Mr. Whiskers

Rating: T

Word count: 3.1k

Summary:

Mr. Whiskers does not approve of guests. But this human? This human was ok. This human could stay.

Authors note:

Happy holidays @babethepig! I hope you like this fic, even though I interpreted the prompt a bit loosely.

Written for the prompt: Phil can talk to animals but he keeps his power hidden. Dan and Phil start dating. Dan has a cat (because in this universe Dan has the right opinion and Phil is not allergic) the cat is really grumpy and usually hates everyone but it loves Phil. Dan is confused especially after he keeps catching Phil and the cat in -what looks like- deep conversations. The cat doesn't like certain things and Phil seems to know just why it is grumpy all the time, Dan gets suspicious and Phil ends up telling him about his power.

A huge thank you to my betas @alittledizzy and @templeofshame and the WWC crew for the support and encouragement. I couldn't have done this without you <3

Warnings: very minor homophobia (blink and you will miss it)

[read on ao3]

Mr. Whiskers was fond of his human. Most of the time. Ok, about half of the time. He assumed that the human meant well, but why did he keep buying this disgusting fish flavored dry food when Mr. Whiskers obviously hated fish? How many times did he have to turn over the bowl or sulk in the corner under the table for his human to figure that out? Weren’t humans supposed to be the most intelligent animals in the world? (Mr. Whiskers internally snorted at that. Yeah right, they think that, but then they also shout at pictures moving in the big box in the living room. Even the most stupid alley cat knew that they can’t hear you if they’re inside the box.)

His human also insisted on inviting the most horrible people into his flat. One of them was apparently his brother, and they always cooked some kind of ridiculous meal with no meat whatsoever, only carrots and stupid broccoli. Not even a little dash of milk! Absolutely no edible scraps Mr. Whiskers could steal from the table and enjoy in peace. The other person who came over to their home was a woman with a loud voice and different colored hair, and the tendency to constantly want to squish Mr. Whiskers with no consideration of his dignity or desire to be squished. He wasn’t some kind of lap dog to be “cuddled” and cooed at! Didn’t that woman have a mother who would teach her to KEEP HER STUPID FURLESS HANDS TO HERSELF? Honestly, some humans needed a little scratch once in a while to know their place, and he didn’t care that his human would yell “Mr. Whiskers, behave yourself!” every time he did it. He’ll behave himself when the guests behave themselves.

And the third semi regular visitor his human had was his mother, who called his human “Daniel” and would sit on the sofa drinking tea in silence. Sometimes she would ask a question like “So, have you decided about going back to university?” or “Are you still working at that convenience store? I think you should be looking for something more serious,” or “Have you been seeing anyone? My friend’s daughter is about your age, I think you should give her a call.” And even though she never did anything annoying to Mr. Whiskers and even sometimes brought him a nice treat, he absolutely hated having her over, because his human would get sad and quiet afterwards, and sometimes lie in bed for an entire day. And no amount of rubbing against his hands or purring on his chest would make him smile.

But most of the time, it was just the two of them. His human would usually have to be woken up by Mr. Whiskers’ insistent meowing. Honestly, if it weren’t for him, the human would probably never get to work on time. And Mr. Whiskers would never get fed. After giving Mr. Whiskers some food (ok, why the constant fish? Urgh, it’s disgusting), the human would pour some milk over his dry food (without fish, one would note. Why does the human get fish-free dry food while Mr. Whiskers has to suffer?) and sit at the table slowly chewing on it. If the human would get too slow or close his eyes for too long, Mr. Whiskers would make sure to drop something off of the counter to wake him up. Then, the human would go into the bathroom and shower (yet further proof that humans are not that intelligent. Why would anyone voluntarily pour water over themselves? Idiotic.) and get dressed. There would then be the regular argument where Dan would shout “Why did you have to sleep on my work pants again? You got fur all over them! Just use the fucking bed I bought you!” and Mr. Whiskers would hiss and jump straight into the pile of clothing on the floor of the bedroom and start kneading at them. Show his human who’s boss. Then the human would leave and Mr. Whiskers could get some good sleep in the human’s comfortable bed. (Dan wonders why Mr. Whiskers doesn’t sleep in the bed he bought him? Well, why did he buy him a bed that’s like 20 times smaller than his own? Does this human seriously thinks that he needs more space than Mr. Whiskers? Ridiculous.)

The evenings were mostly spent with the human sitting in front of the big box with some kind of toy and screaming loudly at the moving objects while Mr. Whiskers lay curled up on the couch and eyed his human with pity. They are never going to hear you, you fool. Just give up already. And after dinner (fish dry food, again; someone needs to smack some sense into this human) they would go to bed, Dan under the covers and Mr. Whiskers usually on the large chair where the human put his black work pants that night. (What? The chair is comfortable!)

So when one evening, someone Mr. Whiskers never seen before walked in with his human, Mr. Whiskers was immediately suspicious. The new guest was as tall as Dan, but had black hair and bright blue eyes. He was smiling and out of breath, and was looking around the apartment in wonder.

“So, this is my place,” Dan said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically shaky. “And this is Mr. Whiskers. Don’t mind him, he’s very grumpy, so don’t be offended if he hates you.”

Mr. Whiskers hissed in indignation. He wasn’t grumpy! He was an absolute delight if you knew how to behave yourself. He even let his human pet him a couple times the day before, and only hissed at him twice this morning! And Dan dares to call him grumpy?

“Hello Mr. Whiskers!” replied the stranger. “I’m Phil! It’s very nice to meet you.”

There was something really weird about this new human’s voice. Mr. Whiskers couldn’t exactly place what it was, but something was very different.

“Phil, you’re so funny! You honestly think he understands you?” Dan laughed and Mr. Whiskers meowed, offended. Did his human think he’s stupid?

“Of course he does, Dan, and I don’t think he likes you saying that.”

Ok, Phil seemed to be acceptable so far. He seemed respectful. Mr. Whiskers could give him a chance. For now.

“Oh Phil, you’re so precious!” Dan replied, and looked at the new guy with a smile on his face that made Mr. Whiskers want to roll his eyes. He looked at him like a little kitten looks at his first bouncy ball, or like his mother used to look at him when she would lick his face. Disgusting.

They ended up sitting on the couch and shouting at the lit up box together, and Mr. Whiskers felt his good opinion of the new ‘Phil’ human decline a bit. He might be smart enough to know that Mr. Whiskers understands them, but still obviously not the brightest kitten in the litter. He was also a little odd in other ways, biting Dan on the shoulder sometimes and giggling all the time. Perhaps he was hungry? Mr. Whiskers would also sometimes bite his human for food, but Dan seemed to react very differently to Phil biting him. When Mr. Whiskers would bite, his human would screech and call him a “dirty animal.” When Phil bit him, however, Dan would flush red and giggle. He looked like a tomato, it was frankly ridiculous.

It was long dark outside by the time Phil stood up from the couch and headed out. He hugged Dan and whispered something in his ear, and then looked Mr. Whiskers directly in the eyes and said “Goodbye Mr. Whiskers! See you soon!”

Something was definitely off about this person.

***

After that night, Phil became a constant presence in the flat. He would come over almost every night and stay later and later. Occasionally, he would stay overnight in the human’s bed and eat breakfast with them. He also seemed to progress from biting Dan to doing all sorts of other stupid things, like licking and sucking on his mouth, laying on his shoulder or on his chest and nuzzling into his neck. And his human seemed to not only allow it, but do the same to Phil. At one point, his human actually pushed Mr. Whiskers out of the bedroom and closed the door. And didn’t let him in the entire night, which was so unthinkably rude that Mr. Whiskers had no choice but to pee in Dan’s palm tree. The next morning they both emerged looking like they didn’t sleep at all, which of course they didn’t. Who would be able to sleep without Mr. Whiskers watching over them? And why did Phil have dark spots all over his neck?

However, even with all of this, having Phil around all the time definitely had some benefits. First of all, Phil apparently loved pizza, which meant that if Mr. Whiskers whined hard enough, he would always get a little pepperoni or sausage out of their plates. Additionally, Phil’s presence drove away Dan’s need to invite other people and Phil himself was always very respectful of the “don’t touch the cat if he doesn’t want it” rule. And of course, Mr. Whiskers was somewhat satisfied to see his human so happy. Some might even say that Mr. Whiskers was happy for him, but those people would be wrong, of course; Mr. Whiskers was far too important of a creature to really care about the wellbeing of his human (even though he did know that if Phil dared to hurt Dan, he would scratch his eyes out and not even think about it).

But the most significant changes came from the fact that Phil seemed to somehow just know things. Or, at least, guess some of the things Mr. Whiskers wanted. For example, one time when they were having breakfast and Dan was pouring the horrid fish dry food into Mr. Whisker’s bowl, Mr. Whiskers let out a frustrated meow. While Dan refused to get the hint for several years, Phil immediately seemed to understand Mr. Whisker’s frustration and told Dan that “I don’t think your cat really likes this type of food, maybe we should get him something different?” And indeed, a couple days later Phil brought over several different bags of cat food and had Dan perform a complicated taste test to determine which one was Mr. Whisker’s favorite. And somehow, Phil was able to exactly tell Dan which one Mr. Whisker’s liked most (the duck flavored one, of course, although the beef and rabbit one were also not bad).

Phil also would always say a proper hello and goodbye to Mr. Whiskers and always asked him if he could pet him. But the weirdest thing was that when Mr. Whiskers wasn’t in the mood for sentimental cuddles, Phil would just chuckle and say, “Ok, ok, maybe next time.” And whenever Mr. Whiskers allowed Phil to pet him, the human managed to scratch the perfectly right spot. Mr. Whiskers has never met a human who understood him as well as Phil.

***

One morning, Mr. Whiskers could tell something was wrong as soon as he woke up. The day before was one of the rare nights Phil wasn’t here, and Dan had spent the previous evening outside the house, only to come home at two am, pale, shivering and with puffed red eyes. He immediately went to bed without even saying hi to Mr. Whiskers or giving him the normal scratch behind the ears. The next morning, no matter how much Mr. Whiskers meowed or scratched at him, no matter how many cups he threw off of the counter, his human refused to get out of bed. He was lying under his blankets, covering his entire head, and Mr. Whiskers could hear a quiet sobbing from under it.

That morning Dan never got up for work. He just lay in bed, standing up only once to go to the bathroom and carelessly throwing some food in the general direction of Mr. Whisker’s bowl. The sun set and his human never stood up to turn on any lights. He just lay in bed motionless, sometimes letting out a quiet sob.

It was fully dark when Mr. Whisker’s heard the door open.

“Dan? Baby? Are you home?” Phil’s voice rang out in the darkness. Mr. Whiskers immediately raced to the door and started meowing at Phil. If anyone could cheer his human up, it would be Phil. Something was definitely wrong.

Phil entered the living room and turned on the light. Then he looked Mr. Whiskers right in the eyes and said, “You’re saying he didn’t get out of bed at all?”

Mr. Whiskers stared in shock at Phil.

“Listen, Mr. Whiskers, I can speak to animals, it’s no big deal. I just didn’t want Dan to know in case he thought I was weird or something. But we can discuss this in detail later; can you please tell me what happened to Dan?”

If Mr. Whiskers were a less dignified cat, he probably would have freaked out. But Mr. Whiskers doesn’t freak out. He’s always collected and poised, and honestly it’s not like he was that surprised, truly. (He definitely was.)

Quickly collecting himself from not being shocked at all, Mr. Whiskers proceeded to tell Phil exactly what was going on. Phil just looked intently at him and nodded along.

“Did he have anything to eat? He was crying yesterday? He was supposed to stay at his parents, but you’re saying he came back in the middle of the night? Ok, ok. Wait, slow down. Oh, he sometimes cries when his mom visits? Ok, I’ll see what I can do. Thank you, thank you!”

With that, Phil poured some water into a glass and quietly opened the door into the bedroom.

“Let me see how Dan is doing and I’ll feed you, Mr. Whiskers,” Phil whispered. Ok, that was fair. As long as it didn’t take forever, because dinner was supposed to be served at least two hours ago.

After a couple minutes of waiting, Mr. Whiskers slid into the dark bedroom and saw that Phil was lying in bed next to Dan, combing his fingers through his curly hair and murmuring into his ear.

“I’m so sorry, love. It’s his loss, you’re perfect. I’m so so sorry.”

“I wanted them to get to know you…” Dan sobbed. “I thought they would be happy for me.”

“They’ll come around, Danny, and if not, it’s their loss. It’s going to be ok, I’m here.”

Mr. Whiskers wanted to remind Phil of his promise to feed him dinner, but decided that he might not actually be that hungry. Instead, Mr. Whiskers climbed onto the bed and firmly planted himself between the two humans, kneading at the softness of Dan’s stomach and purring loudly. Dinner could wait until his human was a little happier. Maybe Mr. Whiskers would even curl up in Dan’s lap later, and let him pet him for an hour or two. Mr. Whisker’s was generous like that.

***

The next morning Phil woke up earlier than Dan and slipped out of bed into the kitchen.

“Let him sleep” he whispered to Mr. Whiskers who was about to start the normal process of waking Dan up. “I told our manager he won’t come into work today; he had a rough night.”

Mr. Whiskers followed Phil out into the kitchen and jumped up on the breakfast bar.

“So…” Phil said.

Mr. Whiskers stared at him.

“You hungry?”

Of course he was.

“Why is all of this crap on the floor? You tried to wake him up that way? Honestly, Mr. Whiskers, are you expecting me to clean this up? Of course you are.”

Phil quickly swept up the broken china and put the rest of the junk off the floor back onto the counter.

“Here, let me get you some food. Do you want the duck or the rabbit? Duck? Ok!”

He poured some food into the bowl and put it on the table.

“Come have breakfast with me, Mr. Whiskers. I think Dan might be sleeping in for a bit.”

Phil made himself a cup of coffee and got a biscuit from the cupboard. They sat at the table in silence, both munching on their food for a bit.

“So… Alligators are pretty cool, aren’t they?”

Mr. Whiskers just stared at him.

“What? They are! I went to the zoo with my family once and the alligator told me that my thighs are my best feature! Although I don’t know if he was saying that from an aesthetic or food related point of view. Either way, that was really nice of him.”

Mr. Whiskers glanced down at Phil’s thighs.

“Well, the alligator liked them, so you can keep your snarky comments to yourself,” Phil laughed. “Dan appears to like them, so shush.”

Mr. Whiskers laid down on the table and flicked his tail.

“Hey, don’t insult my boyfriends taste. He chose you as a pet, didn’t he?” Phil smirked. “Well of course he didn’t choose you, it was the other way around, what am I even saying. And you did a good job, you have a nice human there, don’t you.”

Just as Phil was saying that, the door to the bedroom creaked open and a sleepy-looking Dan emerged.

“Who are you talking to, Phil?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Mr. Whiskers and Phil shared a glance and the cat jumped off the table and walked towards Dan. He rubbed his side on Dan’s legs and purred.

“Why are you suddenly so nice? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, babe, we were just having breakfast. Do you want something?” Phil replied in an exaggeratedly innocent voice.

Honestly, Phil was the worst liar Mr. Whiskers has ever seen. Dan looked at Phil with even more suspicion.

To break the tension, Mr. Whiskers had to plunge his claws into Dan’s naked shin.

“Owww, you animal, what the fuck!?” Dan shouted, and Mr. Whiskers proudly walked away, successfully defusing the situation. Watch and learn, Phil. Watch and learn.

“Will you still move in with me if this monster of a cat lives here?” Dan asked Phil, rubbing his scratched up ankle. He plopped himself into a chair at the table and took a sip of Phil’s coffee.

“Do you seriously think I would dare move in without getting Mr. Whiskers’ approval?” Phil replied. “It’s not like it’s up to you or me if I get to live here.”

Mr. Whiskers jumped into Dan’s lap and curled up into a ball. Dan automatically started combing his hands through his soft fur.

“Do you approve, Mr. Whiskers?” Dan asked him. “I think he approves,” he smiled widely at Phil.

“Oh, he does, as long as we keep buying him the duck-flavored cat food,” Phil replied.

Mr. Whiskers started purring loudly in Dan’s lap. Phil was ok. Phil could stay, he decided.

#phanfiction #my fic #phan #phandom fic fests holiday exchange

60 notes · View notes

tavi-hayes · 4 years

Text

side fic three ~ lost and found

((hello, i present to you another side fic. i apologize in advance for the quality of this. i had written out almost all the rp on tuesday and i was quite content with the result (which never happens, my writing makes me cringe) but then when i switched my laptop on yesterday, the document hadn’t saved and all was gone, so i had to start all over again and i couldn’t remember what i had written and urgh... i just hope this fic is doing some justice to the rp which was so nice thank you anna @hugo-stanton! anyhow if you decide to read this then enjoy, and maybe ignore all spelling/grammar mistakes. also there are some mentions here of the wonderful rps with itzel, brooke and leana but i still need to write them out i’m sorry))

“What is your photography project about exactly? I know it has something to do with the selection but...” I let my voice trail off a bit, I honestly don’t have any clue what the reason for the photos could be.

A couple of nights ago I was hanging out with Brooke. When I told her I found a friend in Hugo, she began to question his entire existence. Her sceptical attitude made me doubt myself, was he real or a product of my imagination? But when I showed up to dinner the next day, myself still being extremely hungover, my suspicions were confirmed. Hugo was there too, he was real. Thank god, I wasn’t going crazy after all.

He had knocked on my door a good 10 minutes ago, ready to show me some interesting places in this gigantic palace. During the photography thing I had asked if he could show me around. Perhaps it had been a bit bold to ask, but I was just sick of getting lost all the time. I hadn’t expected him to remember the promise of a tour. But here we are, walking in some hallway towards a destination still unknown to me.

My question makes Hugo chuckle a little, “people keep asking me that. But I guess it’s just that this is such a historical moment and at the end of this we’ll welcome someone new into our family.” There is a little silence before he continues speaking, “Arin isn’t the biggest fan of people having such an intimate view of his life. But what I’m doing is really just going to stay in our family.”

“Hm,” I nod my head. I can definitely see why the prince would feel that way. It must be annoying to have an entire country looking at you and judging every move you make. “So it's more like a memory kind of thing?”

“In a way yeah. Hopefully it can be something for Arin to appreciate. But if not then at least I enjoyed myself and made some new friends.”

“I'm sure he will appreciate it, if only for the effort you put into it.” I glance around the hallway, I don’t recognize anything here. Have I even been here before? “Good for you for making friends.”

That makes him chuckle again. “I'm enjoying it so far for sure. It's nice having someone here who has the time to talk to me.”

“Well I'm glad to hear you've found that person.” We’ve reached the end of the hall. There is a set of gigantic double doors in front of us, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before. Or maybe I have and I just don’t remember.

Hugo points towards the doors, “that's the gallery- we can go in or skip it if you like.”

I nod my head, trying to see if I remember the way we’ve walked to get here. “You don't like the gallery?”

“Oh, it's fine! I just don't know if you're into art.”

“Let’s continue,” I look away from the doors and glance at Hugo instead, “I can always come back another time.”

“Alright,” he turns and motions to some other doors. “These are all empty rooms- there's a lot of those.”

I don’t quite understand the look he’s giving me. There is a hint of embarrassment on his face, “hm, so it's a matter of too many rooms, and not enough stuff to put into them?”

“Or just too many rooms.”

I nod my head as if I understand, but it sounds like a rich people problem to me. The strange expression is still visible on his face, “why that face?”

He shrugs, “I guess maybe I'm just not into the massive home with the servants and everything.”

“Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ...” I clear my throat softly, unsure of how to continue that sentence. “So I'm guessing you don't have a palace of your own?”

His laughter fills the hallway, “I have an apartment- but if you squint enough I guess you can pretend it looks like a palace.”

“And your ‘servants’ probably listen very well to all your needs,” I raise my hands to place some air quotes around servants.

Hugo nods his head, “oh, yes. My manservant is very attentive. Although,” he leans a little closer as if he is going to let me in on a secret. “Between you and I he really could be more neat and better at staying organized. ”

That makes me laugh, “hm maybe you can just tell him? Or does he not take criticism very well?”

“I'm not sure, I've never tried to tell him off too much.” He chuckles a little more as we walk past the doors in this hallway. I can’t help but think about the empty rooms behind them. There’s so many of them, it’s quite sad.

“You know him best of course, just don't be too hard on him, okay?”

“I'll try- but I make no promises.” We reach the end of another corridor. “Okay, so that over there leads to the lower level but there's not too much down there from what I remember.” I look towards the direction he’s pointing in. “But over this way is the music room if you want to go there.”

I glance from one direction to the other, “the music room sounds perfect to me.” I’ve had some nice moments in the music room lately. First Leana and I had a great chat in there. It had made me realize I had been wrong for judging her based on her profession. And more recently Itzel entered the room when I had been playing some guitar. Even though that had been the first time we properly met, I think of her as a friend already. “But you're the tour guide, so it's really your call.”

“Well, you let me take all those photos so I think you've more than earned your say.” A smile appears on his face. “But if you want to go then let's go.”

I have to increase my pace to keep up with him. Why do tall people walk this fast? “Pfft, you were putting all the effort in and taking photos, while all I did was do nothing besides talking to you. Which I quite enjoyed actually, the talking part I mean,” I say, realizing I’m just rambling and it probably doesn’t make that much sense.

“You were patient though. Not everyone can do that.”

I don’t really know what to say to that, his kindness makes me smile. “What's your favourite place in the palace?”

Apparently that’s a hard question because Hugo is silent for another moment. It’s not that difficult for me to pick one favourite place: the music room. But then again there are only a couple of rooms that I frequently visit. And I’ve only been here for a couple of months.

“Promise me you won't laugh?”

I place my right hand right on top of my heart, “I promise I won't laugh.” Unless his answer is going to be extremely ridiculous, like the bathroom or something. But I refrain from saying that.

“Okay,” he says as he’s nodding his head. “It's the stairs.”

Now that is not the answer I was expecting at all, “you may need to explain that.”

“They're just calm- usually. But also they're a good place to see everything that's going on. Also, if you're feeling really brave you can slide down the bannister.”

I can’t stop myself from laughing. There are so many different ways how that can go wrong. “Have you ever done that before? Slide down the bannister?”

Hugo glances around before nodding his head, “I have, yeah.”

My eyebrows raise in curiosity. “How did that go? Did you land on your feet?”

There is a grin on his face. “Yeah, I did.”

“Hm,” I smirk, “I don't think I'll be able to believe you until I've seen some proof of that.”

“Well, only if you're willing to try it out yourself.” He walks over to a door and opens it.

I suddenly realize we’ve reached the music room, I’ve been so distracted by talking with him that I hadn’t noticed. But indeed, there is the weird painting of some creepy male person. The painting was a great orientation point, indicating which door lead to the music room.

“Deal,” I say before walking into the music room, mumbling a thank you to Hugo for holding the door open for me.

It looks exactly the same as the last time I’ve been here. It’s like no one, besides me, uses this room. But I know that’s not true, Leana had been playing her guitar in here not that long before today. Still, it looks abandoned.

“Have you been in here before?”

I hear the door fall shut behind me and turn around, nodding my head. “Yeah I have actually, this is such a great place to be. It's hard to stay away.” The acoustics in this room are close to perfect, of course I would come here all the time.

“You're still practicing then?”

“Yes of course, there are always new things to learn.” I smile a little, “would you like to hear some?”

Hugo nods in return, “I'd love to. If you're willing.”

“Of course.” If there ever comes a day that I’m not willing to play music, someone should probably take me to a doctor or something. I walk over to one of the guitars and pick it up. Normally I would practice on my own bass guitar, but with this tour going on I hadn’t thought about bringing it along with me. I take the guitar with me to one of the sofas and sit down, “any requests?”

He thinks for a moment before saying, “a song you love.”

Hm, that is not a good question to ask someone who loves music as much as I do. “A song I love,” there are so many song titles coming to mind. But after a second I know which one to play. To check if this guitar is even tuned, I play some chords. “Let me just…” my voice trails off as I start loosening and tightening some machine heads. I play a low E2 and a high E4, but it’s still slightly out of tune. I repeat the actions until I’m content with the result. When I look up I find Hugo smiling at me, “ready?”

He nods his head, “ready.”

I’m still watching him as he sits down on the floor a little away from me, the sight of him makes me smile. I shift slightly so I’m a bit more comfortable on the sofa and put my fingers in the right positions. I start playing Under the Bridge by Red Hot Chili Peppers, a song I know by heart. My fingers find the strings automatically, making no mistakes. When I’m done I look back at Hugo again, “tada!” I played the exact same song for Leana the other day and her reaction was nothing but positive. I can’t wait to find out what Hugo thinks.

“Tavi, that was amazing.” He stands up and starts clapping his hands.

There is a bit of an echo in this room, so it actually sounds like at least a dozen people are applauding. I can feel my face heat a little, a smile spreading across my face. “Oh stop, it was nothing.”

He shakes his head as he walks towards me, “it was beautiful.”

His eyes are on the guitar in my hands, my eyes are on him. “I'm glad you think that, thank you.”

I’m still looking at his face when his gaze shifts, meeting mine. “What made you pick it?”

“The song?” The movement of his hand catches my attention and I look down just in time to see him reaching towards the guitar. “I just think it's one of the best songs in the entire history of music.”

“I mean the guitar.” He runs a finger along the neck of the guitar. For some reason that specific action feels strangely intimate to me.

A shiver runs down my spine. “Oh,” I focus back on his face again, “the first instrument I got my hands on when I was a kid, was a guitar. It was like love at first sight.”

Hugo nods his head, “I can tell. I mean how much practice and time you've put in.”

He makes me smile again, “and it was definitely worth all the time and energy.” And by that I mean 15 years of practicing almost every day.

A smile appears on his face as well. “It really was. You're very talented.”

“Oh shush,” I can feel my cheeks heat again. I can’t handle all these kind words. “Do you play any music instruments?”

“I used to play violin but I stopped a long time ago.” The smile has disappeared, now there is a frown on his face.

“The violin is such a beautiful instrument,” both my mom and my brother mastered that skill. I wish I could hear them play again. “Why did you stop?”

He looks at me for a moment without saying anything, before swallowing once. “My mom was the one who kept me going and once she was gone it just didn't have the same appeal.” His eyes meet mine for a moment longer, before his gaze goes back to the guitar.

“Oh Hugo,” I don’t even know what I’m doing but before I know it I reach for his hand. His skin feels very soft, especially compared to my own calloused fingers, the result of playing string instruments for so long. “I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“But that doesn't mean it's nothing.” I’m debating whether or not to ask what happened. I know how annoying it can be when someone sticks their nose in other people’s business that doesn’t concern them.

“It’s not, but it also isn’t a big deal.” He shrugs, “I don’t mind talking about it. It just usually makes people uncomfortable.”

I suddenly realize the awkwardness of the position we’re in. He’s standing while I’m sitting, not the nicest way to have a conversation. I let go of his hand and scoot over on the sofa, carefully placing the guitar on the floor so that it is sort of leaning against the sofa. There is now a place for him to sit if he would want to. “You wanna talk about it?”

“There isn’t too much left to talk about but sure.” He sits down beside me.

I turn to sit sideways so I can actually face him, “what happened?” So far for not sticking my nose in other people’s business.

“My mom left when I was a kid and I haven’t seen her since. I’m not sure it’s as exciting as you thought it’d be.”

“Oh,” I manage to get out, simply because I wasn’t looking for an exciting story whatsoever. If there is someone who knows what it’s like to have one parent leave your life, it’s me. I don’t know what’s worse, having a parent walk out of your life deliberately or have a parent ripped away from you. Both situations suck. “And she never reached out to you?”

“I think she might have sent a birthday card a few years ago but other than that there’s nothing that I remember.” Hugo shrugs.

I can’t stop looking at his face. “I'm sorry that happened,” I say, unconsciously twirling a curl around my finger.

“Don't be. It's not your fault. And anyway, I have my dad and my family here so it's not like I have too much time to dwell on it.” I can see his gaze shifting slightly, making me aware of what I’m doing with my hair. “What are your parents like?”

I don’t know what kind of an expression I had on my face, but it disappears as quickly as the sad feelings resurface. “Uhm,” I bring my hand away from my hair, scratching the skin around my collarbone instead. “My parents.” There are a billion ways to get that message across, each with their own amount of details. “They're kind people and we're very close.” I close my eyes, I’m debating which strategy to use. I decide to go for the ripping-off-the-bandaid one. “My dad is in prison and my mom has not been the same since he got arrested.” I open my eyes again and find my hands clasped together in my lap.

“Oh, Tavi, I'm so sorry. That must be really difficult.” His hand reaches for mine. I don’t feel his hand on my skin, my feelings are a bit too busy trying to drown me on the inside. But I do see his hand, now covering mine. “We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But if you do... I'm here for you.”

I force a smile to my face, but it doesn’t stay there. “Thanks, that is very kind of you.” I clasp my hands together more tightly to stop them from shaking. “I just wish I could find a way to help him.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Maybe it’s the concern in his voice or maybe I just want him to get to know the real me, but I urge myself to start talking. “My dad got called in as a witness for a different court hearing.” The memories of that day all come back to mind. “But then when that was over, and we were about to leave,” I have to pause for a minute to calm myself down, “when the judge called out to him, saying he was accused of murder.” I swallow to get the lump in my throat to go away. “And the judge just gave his verdict, and he got arrested.”

“I'm so sorry, Tavi. That doesn't sound right.”

“It's not,” I shake my head a little. “That's why I applied to this selection,” I make myself look at him again, “to see if I could find a way to give my dad his freedom back.”

“Have you talked to Arin? He might be able to help.”

“He knows about the jail situation and my dad's sentence.” There is so much sadness in Hugo’s eyes and I can’t handle that right now, so I focus back on my hands again. “Do you think he would want to help me?” I honestly doubt it. We hadn’t spoken since that god-awful date, when I had tried to shoot him with a paintball gun.

“I'm sure he'd want to.” Hugo stays silent for a moment. “But sometimes he can't. They sort of keep him on a tight leash.”

“I can imagine,” I say, nodding my head. And besides, the prince is in the middle of a selection, while keeping the country running. I doubt he would have the time or energy to help another charity case. What would he even do? My eyes find Hugo’s again, “but thank you, I'll talk to him.”

His voice is a bit more quiet this time, “how long has it been since you've seen him?”

“6 years,” I have to swallow again. I can’t start crying now, what must Hugo think of me?

His face falls, “that's not fair at all. You should get to see him, Tavi. Especially if he wants to see you.”

I can’t even begin to imagine what I look like right now. “He's being held in a prison in St. George, so it's not exactly around the corner. And we have been saving money to go visit him ever since his arrest, but it never was enough.”

A dash of confusion spreads across his face. “Why is he all the way in St. George?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. It has never made any sense to me, Denbeigh had a maximum security prison of its own. But no, my dad had to be shipped off to another province. “It's what the judge stated in his verdict.”

“What about lawyers? What did they say?”

“The ones we could afford, didn't want to help us.” Some lawyers had tried to explain why they couldn’t help us, but others hadn’t even allowed us to enter their building. “They said it was a losing game, and that being associated with us would not be good for their reputation.”

“That's not right at all. They should be ashamed.”

“They should,” I press my lips together. I don’t understand the point of lawyers if they don’t want to get their hands dirty. “But there's nothing to do about that.”

Hugo shakes his head. “There has to be. There's always a way.”

It’s that exact thought that has kept me going all these years, I can’t let my dad rot away behind bars. I try to smile, “I'd like to think that, yes.”

He nods his head now. “There is. And I believe it can be found. You were Selected after all. Isn't that a sign?”

“Yeah maybe,” I thought getting access to the palace library would be the key to solve all my problems. But as it turns out, life is never easy. And I still hadn’t found anything that could possibly help my dad.

I’m done feeling like Debbie Downer and pulling Hugo into my bubble of sadness and despair, so I decide to change the topic. “Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think being a tour guide is your calling.”

The sound of Hugo’s laughter makes my sad feelings go away. “Is this a bad time to tell you that I only invited you to do this because I'm starting a tour guide business and I need a 5 star Yowl review?”

I can still see the concern in his eyes, but I’m glad for the change to a lighter topic. “Aha,” I even have to chuckle, “and here I was thinking we were friends. You just need me to do something.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I hope you don’t think badly of me.”

“Hm,” I pat his hand twice before getting up from the sofa. I pick up the guitar. “I can't promise a 5-star review now.”

“I can’t believe you just ruined my dreams. We had a deal, Tavi.”

I carry the guitar back to where I got it from and place it onto its stand. “I don't remember making a deal.” I shrug and turn around to face Hugo again, “I'm sorry, for me it's honesty above all else.”

There is a long and dramatic sigh. “Honesty? Even if it breaks my heart?”

It take all of my willpower not to burst into laughter. Instead I gasp, “would you prefer me to lie to your future customers?”

“Isn’t that what a friend would do?”

“Okay,” it takes me a second to come up with the perfect review. “’best tour I've been on in my entire life: the tour takes you to a lot of interesting places, the tour guide himself is very friendly and helpful, you get all the information you could possibly want and more. Easily 5 stars!’” I raise my eyebrows, “how does that sound?”

That makes him chuckle. “You left out the best part. ‘At the end he lets you slide down the bannisters.’”

“Oh right, how can I forget that?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “I can't believe you didn't remember.”

“I'm sorry okay.” I pull the corners of my lips down to create an extremely sad face. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Another dramatic sigh. “Only because you said you're sorry.” His eyes go to the door. “So- should we continue on or do you want to go straight to me beating you at a race down the bannisters?”

Excuse me? I raise my eyebrows in surprise, “you beating me? We'll see about that.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, “let's go to the bannisters then.”

I can’t quite figure out the look he’s given me, but there is definitely excitement in his eyes. “You're on then. Let's go.”

Before I know it, we’re standing in the entrance hall again with the big staircase leading upwards in front of us. It looks 10 times steeper than all the other times I’ve been here.

“Okay, are you ready? To lose I mean.”

This guy. I poke him with my elbow in response. “You shouldn't say that so often, you might start believing you actually have a chance at winning.”

“I think I know I'll win.” Hugo has a confident smile on his face.

“Of course you do.” Meanwhile, I begin to wonder if I have a death wish or something. I don’t see how this is going to end well for me, especially because I have zero experience. “What will the winner get? What's the prize?”

There is a moment of silence, but then a grin appears on his face. “The loser has to play a song on the guitar?”

I don’t see how that is such a bad thing for me. Either I have to play the guitar again or Hugo will play a song for me. It’s a win-win really. But still I want to beat him of course, if only so I can keep reminding him of it. “Okay fine, deal?” I extend my hand for him to shake.

He shakes my hand. “Boy, I really hope I win now. I can’t play the guitar at all.”

I laugh, “I would love to see that.” I turn to face the stairs again, “do you wanna go first?”

Hugo chuckles in response, “this is a together or not at all thing.” He points to the bannister on the right side. “You take that one and I’ll take the other?”

I nod my head, “okay fine.” I turn back to look at him one final time, “good luck.”

“Thanks, you too.” And with that we start walking up the stairs.

I’m about halfway up when I decide it’s a good moment to turn around and look back down. I’ve never really noticed how far down the floor is. “All the way to the top?”

A chuckle reaches me from the other side of the steps, “all the way to the top.”

It feels like I’m climbing the Mount Everest, but eventually I make it to the top. I dare myself to look over the bannister. Yup there is the floor, all the way down there. If I lose my balance and fall, I have to make sure I fall to the left so the stairs will break my fall. If I fall to the right, the floor will break my bones.

I glance over at Hugo, he’s already in position and looking over at me. “You ready?”

No is what I want to say, but I swing my leg over the bannister instead. It’s a good thing I’m wearing some trousers today, doing this with a dress on would be impossible. When I feel as comfortable as I can be, given the circumstances, I call over, “yeah. You?”

“Yeah. Count to three?”

I nod my head. What am I even doing? “One? Two?”

“Three!”

I start to slide down very very slowly, but carefully. There are no disbalances yet so I allow myself to go a bit faster. This actually going pretty well. Maybe this is one of my undiscovered talents? But then I feel that I’m slightly leaning towards the right, the side with the floor. I hold on to the bannister for the life of me.

That actually helps and I let out a sigh of relief. I’m not dead yet.

I carefully slide onwards without any more troubles until the sliding stops completely, just a couple of steps away from the ground floor level. I jump down from the bannister, glad to have some solid ground under my feet again.

Then I hear a loud thud and I turn around. Someone did not land on his feet.

“I think I lost.”

I hurry to Hugo’s side, “are you okay? Are you in pain?”

He laughs, but I can’t decide if it’s a normal laugh or an omg-I-am-in-so-much-pain one. Maybe I should go get some help.

“I'm okay... I just need a second.” He takes a deep breath but then a frown appears on his face. “What's that?”

“Are you sure you're okay?” My eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What's what?”

“Over there.” I look over in the directions he’s pointing to. All I see is a little sofa, nothing else.

“Did you hit your head?”

Hugo shakes his head in return, “I don't think so.” At that he stands up and starts walking towards the sofa.

I truly wonder what it is he’s seeing. Has he gone delusional? I follow him just in case, perhaps he’s going to fall again. Not that I think I would be able to catch him if he does, but at least I will be nearby.

I watch him push the sofa aside before bending down and picking something up. Okay so he legit saw something, he’s not going crazy.

There is an amused smile on his face when he turns to show me what he has found. “It's an iPod.”

“Oh,” I move a little closer to get a better view. Could this be … ? No. Maybe. It looks like my iPod. But perhaps someone else owns the same one?

Hugo holds it out to me, “see. I wonder how on earth it got there.”

I can’t take my eyes off the silver device in his hand. My heartbeat increases slightly. “I think it might be mine?”

“Really? Wow.” He chuckles a little, “it's a good thing I fell then.”

“Definitely,” this might be one of the best days in my life. “Can I see it?”

“Of course! It's yours.” He holds the iPod out for me. I gladly take it and flip it over in my hand. The scratch on the logo is there, from when it had been in my bag together with my keys. And the little dent in the bottom right corner is present as well. My heartbeat increases even more.

To be 100% sure, I switch it on. It’s a miracle that the battery is still working. The title of the song and the name of the artists appear on the screen: Caspar Hayes & Jimmie Davis. This really is my iPod.

I clutch the little device close to my chest, I will never ever let go of it again. “Thank you! I thought it was lost for good.”

“So, then it looks like you really are the winner.”

I look up at Hugo to find him already looking at me with a huge smile on his face. I can’t help but smile myself, I haven’t felt this happy in a very long time. “And now you owe a song too. This is such a good day for me.”

He sucks in a breath, nodding his head. “I think after you hear me play you'll never want to see me again.”

I shake my head, the smile is still on my face when I’m looking at him. “I don't think I will ever think that.”

The tiniest hint of a blush appears on his cheeks, “really?”

“Yeah, I mean not everyone can be as talented as I am.”

That makes him laugh, “well, you're right. You're really talented.”

I shake my head a little, I was only joking. The smile remains where it is as I turn around to have another look towards the bannisters. “You didn't lose on purpose, did you?”

He shrugs, but his eyes meet mine. “I don't think I did.”

“Okay that's good to hear,” I notice the soft smile on his face. “Otherwise we'd have to do a rematch.”

Another one of his laughs echoes in the hall, it’s such a heart-warming sound. “I think after today I'm going into retirement.”

I can’t hold my own laugh back. “what a shame. The national bannister sliding team will miss its star.”

He shakes his head in return. “After that poor display of sportsmanship? I think they'd be thrilled to get rid of me.”

“One lost game doesn't define your entire career though.”

“Maybe not, but I'm glad that my last hurrah was witnessed by you- even if I fell.”

“I feel honoured.” I bring my hand up to tuck some hair behind my ear. “But are you sure you didn't hurt yourself?” I hadn’t seen the fall itself, but the thud was quite loud and the ground was unforgivingly solid.

He nods his head, “I promise I'm fine. The only thing injured is my is my unbroken winning streak at bannister races. So I think I'll live. And all in all you're not a bad person to lose to.”

I can’t stop myself from snorting, “wow thanks, what a great compliment.”

Last time he said my company was better than that of a garbage bag and now I wasn’t a bad person to lose to. Such considerate and kind words.

“Thank you, I really thought about that one for a long time.”

“I can tell,” I say with a smirk on my face. “Hey do you happen to know what time it is? My maids will scold me if I'm late for dinner preparations again.” Any other day I wouldn’t have cared for their mean words and angry glances, but I don’t want them to bring my mood down after the fun day I’ve had.

Hugo glances down at his watch, “it's 4:47. So there's just a bit over an hour until dinner.”

“Hmm,” I nod my head a little. According to Willa and Carla, they needed at least 50 minutes to make me look somewhat presentable for the royal family. Sigh. “Maybe I should head back to my room then?”

“Of course, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble.” He doesn’t look at me this time, his eyes are focussed on the floor instead. “Would it be okay if I walked you?”

The question surprises me, I’m perfectly capable of walking myself back to my room. And I know which way I have to go: just up the stairs and then to the left. It isn’t that difficult. But the sight of Hugo and the way he asked, I can’t help but smile. “Of course.”

“Then I guess I will lead the way- very carefully though. I think I've embarrassed myself enough for the day.” He offers his arm to me. It reminds me of my date with prince Arin. When he had offered me his arm, I hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near him, let alone touch him.

But this time, I don’t even have to think about it. I gently take his arm, “thank you.” I turn my face a bit so I can look up at him. “What are you talking about? Besides the bannister thing, when did you embarrass yourself?”

“It was mostly that.” He blushes a little bit, but it’s just enough for me to notice it.

I pat his arm a couple of times, hoping to take some of that embarrassment away. I truly don’t think the fall had been that humiliating. “Don't worry about it, that could have happened to anyone.”

When he looks over at me, I suddenly realize I have been staring at his face the entire time. “Hey, Tavi?”

I like the way he says my name. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for doing this with me. I had a lot of fun.” His gaze shifts to the steps, his voice going a bit more quiet, “maybe we can do it again some time?”

The smile on my face keeps growing bigger and bigger. “I would love that.”

His eyes meet mine again, there is a big smile on his face as well. “Okay. Then it's a date.”

My pulse quickens. Did I hear that correctly?

I raise my eyebrows, “a date?”

His face flushes even more now. “As friends I mean. Friends of course.” Hugo’s eyes dart away from mine.

Friends.

Any hope I might have had is immediately crushed by his words.

How can I even think about anything more than friendship?

“Oh,” I have completely misinterpreted the situation. I feel so dumb. “Friends of course.”

I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. But I don’t want Hugo to see any of that in my eyes. As I focus on the wall in front of me, I suddenly realize we’ve already reached the top of the stairs. How did I manage to get up here without paying any attention to the steps?

He must have noticed the disappointment. “We can do whatever you want and I can play my awful song for you.”

Now that I think of it, a friendship with Hugo might be for the best anyway. Today has been one of the nicest days I’ve had here in the palace.

The promise of some music makes me smile again, “yeah sure, that should be interesting.”

“So we have a plan.” There is a short silence before he continues speaking. “I don't actually know which room is yours.” And then he just starts laughing.

I don’t know what to make of this. “Didn't you come to my room before this tour?” I say as I let go of his arm. “Anyway it's the first one on the left here.”

“Yeah, I should have memorized the room number but I think I was a bit distracted by you.”

“Distracted by me?” I don’t remember doing anything that could have distracted him. I’ve reached my door now, but when I place my hand on the doorknob I turn around to face him one more time.

He shakes his head, “I just mean it’s nice talking to you so I wasn’t really paying to where your room is.”

“Oh okay,” I nod my head. “Anyway thanks for today, it was fun.” I smile again.

Hugo returns the smile. “Of course. Any time. Though I think I should consider what you said... I didn’t show you around much for supposedly being your tour guide.”

That is definitely true. We had only been to the music room and I had already known what it looked like. And let’s not forget the stairs, that was a whole different experience. It didn’t even matter, it had been a fun day. “It's okay. Though a 5-star review,” I say as I crunch my face, “I'm not sure.”

I push the door leading to my bedroom open, but the sound of Hugo chuckling makes me turn around again. “There’s always next time I guess. I’m sure my awful guitar playing will automatically make the experience 5 stars.”

“Don't you dare think you can bribe me with music.” I narrow my eyes at him, trying to stay serious. But I fail miserably, I can’t stop the laughter from coming out.

There is a smile on his face again. “I'll find something else to bribe you with.” His gaze shifts to my door, “see you at dinner?”

“Yes,” I nod my head before I turn around. I push my door open a bit more so I can actually walk into my room. Before I close it, I smile at him one more time, “bye.”

He returns the smile, “bye.”

I close the door behind me. A quick scan of the room tells me my maids haven't arrived yet. Good. This gives me a little bit of time to get my head in the right place before I have to face other people again.

I sit down on the floor with my back towards the door. On the other side I hear the sound of retreating footsteps echoing in the hallway. I pull up my legs and lean my elbows on top of them.

Friendship. I need to keep that in mind.

Holy freaking shit.

#selectionoc #side fic #fic

8 notes · View notes

five-wow · 4 years

Text

i watched 10.20! thoughts under the cut, as always.

steve running away from his memories in slow motion is how we start out and i should have expected that because i’ve seen this as a preview but still, oh gosh. (i also just have... so many things to say about all of the parental figures we’re shown steve is thinking of and all of their many, many failings, but that would turn into far too long a meta analysis of steve’s life to even start in on it now. (it makes me so mad though. urgh. you ruined a perfectly good human! look, it’s got, well, about a million issues, really. slow mo beach running means things are either romantic or very bad in fiction world, and i regret to say it’s not the former for steve.))

tani rolls over in bed and it’s empty but it’s empty because junior has been up making her a HUGE BREAKFAST. HE IS WEARING AN APRON. I AM IN FAVOR OF THIS.

i already know tani has some issues with self worth relationships and that they work it out at the end of the episode (i’ve seen the gifs of junior offering to be less sweet and tani telling him VERY RIGHTFULLY that he wouldn’t know how) so i’m not extremely worried, but ahhh, it’s still so sad to see junior put in all this adorable effort that tani fully deserves and tani just doesn’t know how to accept it. heartbreaking from both angles, nooo.

ALSO, tani says she usually just grabs a coffee on her way to work and junior says “yeah, and you’re usually late because of it” and i literally today wrote a paragraph for a fic where i claim that tani is usually first at the office these days (because danny forces steve and junior to sit down for breakfast with him), so way to debunk my writing, canon that i clearly should have just watched a week ago so i could have avoided this situation. :p

“i shouldn’t have asked you to stay over.” ack. no. junior’s face is breaking my heart now, too.

and then he STARTS CLEANING UP. jfc, boy, we already know you’re a saint, you don’t have to keep proving it when you’re looking like a kicked puppy.

ahhh i just realized that if danny is not in this episode because he’s... idk, visiting family again? and junior is staying over at tani’s place, then steve is home alone. that’s bad timing, guys.

ah, RIGHT. he’s not home alone, because gerard hirsch broke in and started drinking his coffee. i’m having flashbacks to sang min, ha.

fdjkfdjkfd okay, this is a good scene, though. eddie! steve’s faces! steve LEAVING THE THE DOORS UNLOCKED becuase he doesn’t like running with his keys! also what, he came in through the back door and he apparently leaves the front door open too, like... just in case? STEVE NO.

aha, danny’s on spring break with the kids! okay, danny, you know what, you forgot someone. home alone: fully grown navy seal edition.

hirsch: “so, i’m guessing reyrei is now official.” fjdkfd i never quite know how to feel when shows include shipnames in their canon because it’s usually very weird, but i appreciate the effort, i think!

i’ve genuinely enjoyed hirsch’s reappearance so far, but as soon as he took tani to meet his uncle (who is now a suspect in a murder cold case) i knew there was going to be an uncomfortable comment about tani being pretty and yes, yes, there was. i mean. i guess i got to enjoy being right?

hirsch: “i know from personal experience she does not respond to talk like that.” okay!!! you know what, i can actually work with that. hirsch is learning, developing, maybe ditching his grosser habits. as long as they’re not going back on that in this same episode, that’s good!

very convenient to have the guy you’re questioning already hooked up to a machine that tattles on his heartrate, haha.

tani: “he made me breakfast.” hirsch: “that monster!” i am. i am actually starting to like hirsch in this episode and it is very strange but very nice.

fjdkfdjk junior says that he knows for a fact that danny got everybody “one of those” (an alexa) for christmas, and i LOVE THAT because it’s wonderful continuity with 10.16, when steve calls on alexa to prove he’s going on a date and they make a whole point of mentioning that danny bought him the thing. also, though, danny, bud - i don’t know how great it is to give all of your friends the temptation to let amazon spy on their lives even more than it already does. maybe go for socks next year.

junior unloads on lou and then they have a tiny dance party in the car and that’s so unexpectedly cute, omg.

very random, but i just really appreciate duke. he’s been there from the very beginning and he’s still giving the team these valuable little bits of needed exposition on the regular. he’s very loyal and drama free and it’s always nice to see his face. shout out to duke.

the old roommate of hirsch’s uncle tells a story that sounds very accidentally incriminating for hirsch’s uncle, which probably means the roommate is the actual murderer. i’m calling it now.

the roommate actually SAYS the uncle was the murderer! ooooh. he’s definitely guilty now.

tani agrees with me!!! only she has some actual evidence to back this claim up apart from knowing how crime show plots work, because she is a Good Detective.

steve talks the grieving widow who was part of a diamond thieving couple down from the brink of killing her husband’s killer by telling her he knows what it’s like to lose “the most important person in your life” and it’s very obvious the writers are making a point here but it’s also very good!

though i did keep getting a little distracted by how perfect this woman’s hair was after running through the woods, lying on the floor half dead, spending most of the day in hospital and then going on a violent quest for revenge. damn. diamonds buy amazing hair products and a personal styling team on call for when you’re in the middle of a crime spree/emergency, i guess.

some eddie/hirsch hints here that i’m going to ignore because oh dear god no.

i??? from the gifs i saw i assumed that the episode would end with some kind of party in the mcgarrett backyard, but that’s not what is currently happening as such, so those string lights are just... always there? oh my gosh. i have no idea if we’ve seen them before and i’m only just now paying attention to it, but more importantly, i don’t know if i want steve to have put those up himself, or danny to have bought them and forced them on steve’s garden like he forced alexa on steve, except with less moral issues connected to a tech giant harvesting your personal data.

tani opens up and she’s crying and junior tells her he’s not going anywhere (duh) and I’M crying!

junior, mid-hug: “i could totally start being meaner, if that’s what you want.” I STILL LOVE THAT. that’s so stupid and so sweet and so stupidly sweet.

oh boyyy, while everyone is having their social moments somewhere in the house, steve is hiding out in his garage and listening to his father telling him not to be a cop on tape. AWESOME. I’M SURE THAT’S FUN AND OKAY AND NOT SETTING UP ANYTHING. this is also why this steve needs a danny in his life, because it’s definitely high time for some agressively caring emotional support to be forced upon this man.

annnnd he gets a call from a british guy who wants to hand deliver him a package from doris.

steve just. hangs up on the guy. omg. perfect. please keep doing that and maybe just, wait for danny and the kids to come home and hug them and take like, a little mental health break? instead of, you know, breaking your mental health, over stuff your mother did, again? gosh.

i will admit i really enjoyed hirsch in this episode! i did not see that coming (and it probably won’t make me like him more in previous episodes) but it was a delightful surprise. and TANI AND JUNIOR, ahhh, i am proud of them and their communication and i love them and junior is the best and tani is perfect. did i mention that i love them? i do. i love them.

(re: the steve angst, i refuse to get myself more worked up about that than i low key already am constantly, so i’m electing to mostly ignore it for now. i’ll see what happens next friday. whatever it is, it’s going to happen whether i want it to or not, so best to make it as painless for myself as possible.)

#h50 #10.20 #*

16 notes · View notes