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mercy-burning · 3 years

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She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder.

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames.

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor. From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this?

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin.

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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brokutosan · 4 years

Text

Title. How Do You Mend When You’re Worlds Apart? (We Carry On)

Pairing. Iwaizumi Hajime x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which long distance is hard. Inspired by the song ‘Make It Better’ by Anderson Paak.

Warnings. Pure angst, also doesn’t have much dialogue. Manga spoilers up to the latest chapters and strong language included. Title is a line from the song ‘Make It Better’ by Anderson Paak.

In highschool, Iwaizumi and Y/N were inseparable. Wherever one is, chances are the other is nearby. They were the perfect model couple, proof that highschool sweethearts aren’t always doomed to be just that. Maybe it’s because both were equally mature, or maybe it’s because of the fact that the two of them kept Oikawa on a leash, but anything the world threw at them, the two felt ready for it.

So when Iwaizumi decided to purue his dreams across the ocean, she was fine with it. And so were all of their friends. If anyone could handle long distance, it would be Iwaizumi and Y/N. Because they were Iwaizumi and Y/N, and Iwaizumi and Y/N were inseparable.

Turns out putting an entire ocean between an inseparable couple could, in fact, separate them. Iwaizumi and Y/N became Iwaizumi, student at UC Irvine, and Y/N, student at Tokyo University. The distance between them grew harder to ignore over time.

It wasn’t something that happened overnight. And to be fair, they lasted a good three years making it work before going down the hell hole of late night (or morning, for one of them) arguments and distrust clouding their judgements. After a while, the two realize that the distance has taken its toll on them. Y/N thinks that it’s because they’re too used to being around each other, but now that they’re not, they’ve become more sensitive to even the tiniest matters. Iwaizumi thinks it’s all just bad communication.

Either way, anyone could tell that they’re only uselessly holding onto something that’s very clearly broken. Perhaps it’s the fact that they’ve already put in over six years into their relationship, and that giving it up now would mean giving up those six long years together. And no one wants to be the one that says, “Yeah, I wasted six long years with an idiot only for it to all go down the drain.”

Y/N first realizes this was the case after a night of drinking with her college classmates. She definitely had too much alcohol in her system that night, but she’s always been the type to be hyper aware of her surroundings. She wasn’t the type to do something she knows she would regret the morning after.

Her first explosive fight with Iwaizumi happens a few hours after she drunk herself under the table, at around three in the morning (or dinner time for Iwaizumi). Y/N made sure to be responsible enough to get herself home safe, under her own sheets, but Iwaizumi thought different. Y/N spent the following hours until her first class to explain to her enraged boyfriend that no, that woman in the background of Takahiro’s snapchat story sucking some douchebag’s face off isn’t me!

The months that follow that catalystic event were spent like they were walking through a minefield, any small argument setting off a bigger one that usually ended in tears. At one point Y/N was nearly tempted to throw her phone out the window and completely cut off connections with Iwaizumi, but knowing him, he’d probably catch the first flight back home just to chew her ear off.

What seems to be the worst fact of it all is that they were never like that in the beginning. But at this point there’s no more going back. It’s like they’re stuck in a burning car, but they don’t want to jump out. They’re only options are to just try and put out the flames or wait for the car to crash and burn.

Today is no different.

Y/N is invited by her old highschool friends, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, to go out for drinks. Y/N complies because no one would refuse a free dinner and drinks. But as she steps out her apartment, dressed casually enough but still putting in a little effort in her appearance, Y/N receives a facetime call from none other than Iwaizumi himself, who looks more pissed off than usual.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks as she notices his frown, genuinely concerned.

“Are you going somewhere?” Iwaizumi evades the question. Oh well. She expected this. Y/N has known her boyfriend long enough to know that there really is something wrong, he’s just too pissy to admit it.

“Yeah. With Takahiro and Issei.” She replies curtly, grabbing her purse and house keys from the side table and unlocking the door. Iwaizumi freezes, not saying anything. Y/N almosts hangs up thinking it’s due to poor connection, until he speaks up again.

“Oh. Nevermind then.” What the fuck? Y/N thinks to herself, though has half the mind to know not to say it out loud. Instead she says, “If there’s something bothering you, just tell me. Hiro and Issei can wait.” Her offer is met by another few seconds of silence, before Iwaizumi sighs and says, “No, it’s fine. Have fun. Stay safe.” The - once usual - ‘I love you’ is lost somewhere, probably amidst his pride and whatever the fuck was bothering him.

As he ends the call, Y/N decides to press any further. Lately she’s realized that the best way to prevent arguments with him was to just ignore the things bothering her. Destructive? Definitely. But is it effective? One hundred percent. Y/N argues that it’s the lesser of two evils, and if one of those evils is a furious Iwaizumi, then she’d rather take her chances with whatever’s the other option.

The whole commute to the izakaya she agreed to meet her friends in is filled with a mental dilemma of whether or not she should call him back. And she stays that way ‘til she gets to the place and Matsukawa, the attentive bastard, is asking her, “Why do you look like shit?”

“Damn, you really hate the thought of seeing us that much?” Hanamaki adds on, because Hanamaki and Matsukawa come in pair and when one is teasing you, then chances are the other one is too.

“Kinda regretting it now. Is it too late to turn back?” Y/N jokes, but is only ushered over by her two smirking friends. Y/N, despite her contempt, complies and sits down on one end of the booth.

“You can’t run away from us. Like you physically can’t. You love us too much.” And she hates how much she knows he’s right, but she’s not telling them that because they’ll never let her live it down.

“Disgusting. Someone kill me right now.” Y/N fake gags, smiling at the waiter as he passes by with a weird look on his face. Hanamaki and Matsukawa laugh, before Hanamaki’s face straightens into a serious look.

“Oh yeah, did Iwaizumi tell ‘ya yet?” He mentions nonchalantly. Y/N wants to say, ‘no, because talking to that moron only makes my head hurt,’ but she doesn’t, mostly because they’d probably obsessively worry over it. Instead she says, “Tell me what?”

They share a look.

“Wait, seriously? I thought you’d be the first to know.” It’s Matsukawa that speaks up first, with a bewildered look on his face. “I mean no offense but aren’t you two usually the lovey dovey jackasses that can’t keep secrets from each other?”

“Yeah. I’m still not over you telling him about my Hatsune Miku shrine.” Hanamaki adds, though it’s unappreciated by Matsukawa, who throws him a dirty look and a, “What the fuck, man. Stop bringing that shit up.” Hanamaki looks at his friend with ‘hurt’ laced in his face before firing back, “Stop disrespecting my wife, asshole!”

“Are you two done?”

The two supposed grown men halt their little ‘back-and-forth,’ and Hanamaki perks up again remembering the previous topic at hand.

“Oh yeah! So Iwaizumi really didn’t tell you?” She could only shake her head ‘no,’ taking a sip of the mediocre beer in her hands. She makes a mental note to remind herself never to let Hanamaki pick which izakaya they’re going to.

“You’re both pissing me off, what did he not tell me?” Y/N grumbles, growing impatient. It could just be because the beer is far too stale for her taste. Why is this place still open?

“Apparently Oikawa went to visit him two days ago and the two idiots had a big fight. I heard it almost got physical this time.” So that’s wny he looked so pissed off earlier. Lately the only facial features he’s shown her are anger and discontent, so maybe she thought nothing of it when he did it again just an hour ago. She feels horrible, but not too much.

“Something about Oikawa not taking his bad knee seriously enough. Honestly I think Iwaizumi got mad because he’s been studying about it for three years now.” Hanamaki adds, raising his glass to ask for another cup of beer. Y/N doesn’t care as much anymore about the shitty beer, but she still gives him a weird look for being so into it.

“Oh.” Arguments be damned, Y/N still had to save face. If anyone were proud supporters of her and Iwaizumi’s relationship, it’s these two idiots arguing over a meme on Hanamaki’s phone right across the table. She racks her brain for any plausible excuse as to why she wasn’t made aware of something this big, but her mind drew a blank.

“It is kinda weird you weren’t the first to find out. Granted we had to find out from Oikawa, but if anything I was sure Iwaizumi would’ve already went crying to you.” Hanamaki muses. Oh no. Y/N knows that tone, and when Hanamaki, of all people, uses it...then she’s thoroughly fucked.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Matsukawa completes. Y/N tries not to laugh at the fact that they still try to complete each other’s sentences, despite the fact that they were just arguing about which Spongebob meme is better just a few seconds ago.

“Nothing, really. I haven’t really gotten the chance to check in on Hajime, with exams and all.” Y/N lies through her teeth. They were just arguing three days ago about something Y/N can’t even remember now.

“Uh huh, sure. Let me know when you pull your head out of your ass.” Hanamaki retorts. Y/N resists the urge to reach over the table and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

“Shut up, blondie.”

“Uh, that’s strawberry blondie to you.”

“You’re both completely going off topic. Y/N, why didn’t Iwaizumi tell you anything?” Matsukawa leans over the table, wearing that unreadable facial expression he used to wear back in highschool, during a match, going up for a block. Y/N momentarily thinks how fortunate she is for not being one of those they’ve went against in highschool.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Hajime that?”

“We should, but he’s not here right now. You are. I mean you two were always like two halves of one whole, right?” Hanamaki presses on, forgetting all about their previous argument. She lets his words settle in. Two halves of one whole, huh? Suddenly Y/N is brought back to one of their most recent arguments. About their future together. Or lack of one.

Y/N looks down at her stale mug of beer, feeling hypnotized by the amber color that’s reflecting her face with a look of concern. Though she has no reason to be. Ever since getting into a relationship with Hajime, and faling into the same crowd, most conversations around her usually revolved around the topic of their relationship. It never bothered her before, so why is it bothering her now?

And it hits her. Not as a life changing revelation, but rather something she’s always known deep, deep, deep down.

That just like how she’s been needlessly obsessing over the horrible tasting beer, she’s been needlessly clinging onto something that’s not there anymore. Just like how despite this izakaya being their usual meeting place whenever they found the time to hang out, the beer tasted different today, of all days. Just like how now, Y/N finally snaps herself awake and completely understand that her and Iwaizumi, just aren’t in love anymore.

They tried, the past few months filled with arguments being a testament to how they fought tooth and nail to salvage what’s left of a bygone feeling.

Right. The argument. Three weeks ago, Iwaizumi had called her a few hours past midnight in Tokyo, excited to reveal that “Yes! I’m going to start my internship with Takashi Utsui right after graduation!” And instead of being excited for him too, Y/N picked a fight. That one was totally her fault, she admits. She pressed him on the importance of their relationship, on the importance of distance, and how the one between them is slowly eating them alive. Iwaizumi cut off communication with her for a week, before Y/N finally apologized only for them to be amidst another argument now, just two weeks later.

Y/N realizes she’s been quiet for too long, when the noise of the izakaya draws back in and she’s rudely brought back to her senses by an annoyed Matsukawa snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Are you okay?”

The question lets loose an abundance of emotions, some she can’t quite put a finger on, but she knows is bothering her. It’s been too long since someone checked in on her like that, so genuinely. So concerned. Oh god. Was she turning into a touch starved idiot like Oikawa?

“Uh, I - I don’t know.” Is her pathetic response. The two men in front of her share another look, before Hanamaki simply sighs, “We’ll drop it, sorry. You can talk when you’re ready.”

And as if a switch has been flipped, they fall into a smoother conversation, one about school and their social lives. How Hanamaki heard that Yahaba and Kyoutani went to New York together for God knows why, and how Kindaichi’s finally starting for his Division 2 team. Y/N, on the other hand, can’t seem to focus. Perhaps it’s the thing she was thinking about earlier. Okay. It’s definitely that.

Eagerly, Y/N shoots up and slings her bag over her shoulders, muttering, “Sorry, I have to go.”

“Pay for your drinks, cheapass!” Hanamaki half-jokingly calls out, also standing up. Matsukawa grabs his wrist, seemingly understanding something and leaving the strawberry blonde out of the loop.

“Don’t. I think this might just be serious.”

Upon stepping back into the comfort of her room, Y/N turns on her phone, fingers hovering just above the call button. She was so sure of it before, at the izakaya, but now that she’s had time to think, she doesn’t know what to say.

Wait - no, she’s breaking up with him. That’s for sure. She’s not exactly confident she could take another second being in ticking time bomb of a relationship, but how does she even begin the conversation? Iwaizumi was her first everything, and that might just include first break up. How do people even do this? She feels like she’s about to rip the guy’s heart out of his chest, and that’s not something she could live with.

Fuck it, Y/N thinks to herself as she presses the call button. Iwaizumi picks up after three rings, voice grumpy as ever. “Yeah?” Now Y/N feels like a bitch for doing this over a phone call. But it’s not like she could book a flight to California with the money she doesn’t exactly have, just to break up with her boyfriend of six years. So she improvises.

“Can you get on Skype?”

She hears rustling on the other end of the call, and the telltale sound of a zipper being unzipped. “Sure.”

A few moments later, she’s connected to the call, and now that she’s looking directly at Iwaizumi’s face through her laptop screen, does Y/N finally realize what she’s about to do. Before the guilt could even start to settle in, Iwaizumi opens his mouth and starts the conversation.

“I thought you were going out.” He states, face still scrunched up into that nasty scowl from earlier. Knowing the reason behind it, a fight with his best friend, Y/N isn’t as bothered by it. Okay maybe it’s bothering her. Dumping him while he’s down? She didn’t even know she was capable of something so heinous.

“I was out. I just got back home though.”

“Oh.” He looks like he wants to press further, but something’s holding him back. The same something that’s been causing him to lash out for the past few months. Y/N doesn’t miss the conflicted look on his face, nor does she miss the sigh that he lets out. Good. He’s just as exhausted as she is. Might make this a whole lot easier.

“Is there a reason why you wanted to call?” He offers an olive branch first, and Y/N happily accepts it. “Yeah, actually, there is.” She gulps, probably hard enough for him to hear, but her nerves are starting to get the best of her.

He stares at the camera, probably waiting for her to go on, then. Well, jokes on him. Y/N’s waiting too. Waiting for her to gather enough figurative balls to say what needs to be said.

“Um - okay, so,” Y/N starts, very lamely, “it’s about us.” Iwaizumi looks like he’s about to say something, but Y/N is quick to interject, “Wait! Let me just let it all out. Before I go completely crazy. And then you can talk. Yell. Curse, whatever you feel like doing after I say what I’m about to say.”

“I’m not gonna do any of that.”

“Okay. Good. Because I might cry if you do. And if I cry then I definitely won’t get to say what needs to be said.” Y/N is speaking out of her ass, that much she could tell. She could also tell he’s losing his patience, which she doesn’t totally blame him for.

“I think I know where this is going. You can say it.” Iwaizumi sounds a lot calmer, which is good, because Y/N doesn’t really know how she’d take it if he wasn’t. And then she looks down, fiddling with her fingers on her lap and the ring on her pinky finger that Iwaizumi gave to her before leaving for college.

And then Y/N decides to rip the bandage off, “I think we should break up.”

A sigh.

Not exactly her first choice of a reaction, but she’d take a sigh over a full blown confrontation any day. In fact, she’s probably a little too relieved that that was his first reaction. Means he’s thought about it too, and that she’s not the only one feeling guilty about all this.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N finds herself saying, still not daring to look up into the computer screen. She realizes how ironic it is that the calmest conversation they’ve had in months is when they’re about to break up.

“Don’t be. It’s both our faults.” He reassures her. And she finally looks up, catching her reflection on the webcam and how her eyes are slightly red and watery. (But so are his).

“Trust me I know,” Y/N finds the strength to force out a bitter laugh, and adds, “but I just...am. I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work. I really wanted it to work.”

“So did I.” Iwaizumi offers a bittersweet smile, reminding her that this probably hurts for him just as much as it did for her. “But we couldn’t. And that’s on both of us. Don’t feel the need to take all the blame.”

“God, Oikawa’s gonna fucking lose it. He rooted for us so hard.” Y/N lets out a genuine laugh, remembering her chocolate haired friend that’s probably going to cry harder than they do combined. And then silence engulfs them. Conversation that used to flow so smoothly between them long gone, and the connection they had as lovers severed.

“Um, I’ll catch up with you soon. Take it easy okay?” Iwaizumi finally speaks up, probably sick of the silence. “Yeah, sure. Talk to you soon.” Except she doesn’t. In fact, the next time Y/N hears from Iwaizumi is at his welcome home party, two years later. And by then they’ve both probably moved on (she can’t really speak for Iwaizumi), to bigger and better things, and hopefully to other people.

“And it’s easier to walk away, than to look for what would make you stay.” - Anderson Paak.

A/N. Reposted because I wanted to edit it a bit. An izakaya is basically a traditional Japanese bar! Ending is a bit rushed, but I kinda just wanted to finish it on a slightly bittersweet note?? Thank you for reading tho, I’m gonna go cry now :) - chuu

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dragons-bones · 3 years

Note

6 for the end of year meme?

6. What’s your favourite piece of dialogue you wrote this year?

Dialogue is my ABSOLUTE MOST FAVORITE THING EVER TO WRITE, so here’s a fucking LIST. :3

Pearls of Wisdom:

Rereha threw open the doors to Aymeric’s office, shite-eating grin firmly plastered on her face as she skipped inside, and sang out, “Congratulations! It’s twins!”

“Twin carbuncles!” Synnove cheered. “I had to infuse them at the same time, so they each contain levin and water aether, but the black pearl absorbs levin more readily, and the white pearl more water.”

“So,” Aymeric said hesitantly, a hint of relief in his voice, “you aren’t pregnant, then?”

“What?” said Synnove, rearing back with a frown. “No! Why would—” She went from confused to unamused in a heartbeat and turned her head to level a poisonous glare on a certain lalafell. “REREHA.”

(And here’s a read more because this is gonna get L O N G)

-------

Retrouvailles:

Eventually, she regained enough energy to prop her chin on his sternum. Aymeric lifted his head to meet her gaze as he kept petting her, a questioning noise in his throat that became alarm when he saw the wide grin on her face that usually meant trouble.

“I have,” she said, enunciating clearly, “three more new dresses.”

Aymeric let his head fall back against the desk with a thunk. “Are you trying to kill me, woman?” he groaned, halfway to laughter despite himself. “Take me to dinner before you continue debauching me!”

“That was a perfectly mutual debauchment,” she said primly, “but I’ll grant you that sustenance will be necessary. The Bismarck, or would you prefer to try that new Thavnairian café that I was waxing rhapsodic about over the linkpearl last sennight?”

“The Bismarck,” he said, wrapping one arm around her waist and carefully leveraging them both upright with the other. “I want a steak. Medium rare.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have the oysters?” Synnove said with a smug leer, wrapping her arms around his torso to snuggle closer, and giggled when he swatted her hip in reprimand.

“Brat,” Aymeric said, impossibly fond.

“Your brat,” she said in turn, tilting her head to kiss him.

-------

Quantum Shenanigans:

“This is an abomination,” Nero snarled, flipping from what little Synnove and Krile had managed to put together of the Arch Ultima on a tablet to the ones of the ravaged Ruby Weapon on a tablet. He was sitting at a heavy iron table in one of the Ironworks’s myriad workshops, fidgeting back and forth in one of the wheeled chairs Biggs had welded together on a whim one day, the chair swaying half an ilm side to side. “Absolutely repulsive. Of course, the VIIth is involved somehow, that legion has always been full of lunatics.”

He was already ducking out of the way of Synnove’s hand, making to smack him upside the head for the pun, but it left him open to Cid’s hard flick against his temple. Nero yelped at the sting and pointed accusatorily at the other Garlean, yelling, “Hypocrite!”

“Either way, the results are revolting,” Nero said with palpable disgust. “Forcibly downloading and uploading souls at a whim, who would condone such a thing?”

“You would!” Cid and Synnove snapped in unison.

“The Praetorium,” Synnove said, jabbing Nero in the kidney with her finger. He yelped and jammed his elbow into her stomach, or tried to, as Synnove was already dancing out of range as she continued: “I distinctly recall you waxing poetic about adding mine and my sisters’ power to the Ultima Weapon!”

...

Nero paused and set down the tablet, then pressed his forefinger against his lips as he searched his memory. “…So I did,” he said at last, grudgingly. “Not my finest moment, descending into full on megalomaniacal mad scientist stereotype.”

“That implies you ever rose from the state in the first place,” Cid muttered. And then wheezed out a curse while doubling over and clutching at his stomach; Nero had taken advantage of Cid’s momentary distraction to ram his bony elbow into the other Garlean’s abdomen.

Nero shifted uneasily, flicking his gaze from Cid, to Synnove, to Heron, and back to Cid to repeat the cycle. Finally. “…What?”

“I’m impressed, Nero,” Cid said. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and he leaned back against the workbench to look at Nero with shrewd blue eyes. “You’ve actually matured. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Bathe in ceruleum, Garlond.”

“Choke on a lug wrench, Scaeva.”

Cid’s face went blank in the manner that usually preceded him asking a question he would wish he had not in fact asked at all once he had the answer: “…Void storage metafold?”

“Yes,” Synnove said primly, bouncing the twins in her arms. They giggled. “It’s based on the one Khebi built for Carby, though the structure’s internal area is only about three square fulms instead of…whatever nightmare area Carby’s is. All you have to do to make one is calculate the Cartesian coordinates in four dimensions rather than three, then fold the aether along the proper axes and—”

Cid’s eyes were becoming suspiciously glassy.

“—Nero, kick him.”

Nero, using his non-injured foot, immediately did so in Cid’s shin while wearing a gleefully malicious grin. Cid shouted.

“Carby’s a good boy,” Synnove said automatically, the tone of someone who had made the argument before and likely would again. “He’s strange, but he’s a good boy.”

Cid looked at her incredulously. “Just last week you were screaming about having to rummage in his void storage again for your aether chalk and how he was gnawing on your shoulder in retaliation!”

“Carby is not a good boy, Carby is halfway between a constructor-kit outer entity and an unshackled artificial intelligence.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is!” Cid and Nero snapped in unison.

“What the hells was that even for?” Cid said, leaning back up against the work table to pick up his leg and rub his injured shin.

“Your eyes glazed over as I went on a brief aetherology tangent!” Synnove bellowed. (The twins made oooooooo Uncle Cid’s in trouble~ noises.) “I will not have it! You might be an engineering protoyping savant, but your aetherology theory is shite! You have lived in Eorzea for fifteen bloody years, learn some!”

“Your grand idea for overcoming the first line of aetheric defenses of the Crystal Tower was to throw a bloody rock at it.”

“It has been four years, are you ever going to stop harping about that?”

“No!” Nero and Synnove snapped in unison.

Very slowly, Synnove turned her head to look at Nero, practically frothing at the mouth and his hands curled into claws as he grasped at air, and Cid, now aggressively cuddling a wrench he had gotten from one of his pockets like it was a comfort object. Deliberately, with precise enunciation, the arcanist said, “Please tell me I am not the only one who is hearing that harmonic as an approximation and not whatever it is my child is actually saying.”

“I know what those words mean individually,” Cid said. His grip on his wrench was white-knuckled. “I may even know what those words mean together. I am not ready to accept that. And I am most assuredly not ready to know whatever it is they are actually attempting to convey.”

“Blargle,” Nero agreed.

“Congratulations,” Nero said icily. “You have mothered two more constructor-kit outer entities. If the fabric of reality unravels any time soon, I am blaming you.”

-------

A Drop of Birch:

Aymeric shook his head, fascinated and astonished and awed all at once. “Sewing her own scarf and hat, and making her own syrup, as perfect as anything produced by the finest chefs in Ishgard,” he said. “She’s truly a remarkable individual, and that persistence will serve her well in bridging the divide between man and dragon.”

There was a very peculiar, familiar gleam in Synnove’s eyes as she sat up, vibrating with excitement. She opened her mouth—

Aymeric pointed his spoon at her and said, in the strict tones of the Lord Commander, “We are still not adopting her.”

“Aymeric!” His ladylove’s voice was pure affronted whining.

“No.”

“But—”

-------

“Signs”:

Tataru pointed at her fellow pinkette now. “I want to know what that hand sign you’re always using is,” she said, only the faintest slur present in her voice.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, honey,” said Rere, lifting her mug to take a deep glugging pull. “There are so many I use to trash talk or gossip with, after all.”

Tataru forced herself upright, bracing herself on her elbows, and held her hands in front of her face, wiggling her fingers. Thancred propped his chin on his hand, raising his eyebrow. “Oh, I think I know the one,” he drawled. “That has to be one of the lewd ones.”

Rereha paused and tapped her chin. “Sometimes,” she said, finally. “Mostly, however, he’s a gremlin.”

At this, she held up her closed fist, then extended her forefinger and pinky as far to the sides as she could, the rough approximation of the round body and wide, pointed ears of the chattering voidsent.

Alakhai walked by at that moment, heading for Dawn’s Respite, while she carried a dozing Alphinaud piggyback. “Talking about yourself, Rere?” she said, eyebrows raised as she caught sight of the lalafell’s hand.

“Queen of the gremlins, that’s me!” Rereha cheered, throwing her hands up, and sending Thancred and Tataru into fresh peals of laughter.

--------

“The Lady of the Manor”:

(“You can misbehave after you’re married,” Da would have said at the end of such a lecture, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, while Mama threw up her hands in defeat.)

“You have dined me,” Synnove said, setting her glass down on the low table, emerald eyes locked on his. “You have wined me. You have treated me to fascinating conversations about the history of Ishgard and your own family—and I mean that genuinely, dearheart. I’ve enjoyed every moment of tonight.”

He grinned at her and did not bother to hide the pride that puffed his chest.

“But there is one thing I would like to do tonight, especially since Alakhai is babysitting the carbuncles and we’re not likely to be…interrupted.” She propped her chin on her fist. “A tradition perhaps not conducive with those of Ishgard—or, well, Ishgard’s high society.”

“And what would that be, my love?”

“I want to make out with you like we’re a pair of teenagers.”

-------

“A Cruel Arcanist’s Thesis”:

“Cidolfus Garlond,” Synnove said, still looking up at the G-Warrior, her voice full of malice, “did you refurbish an Allagan warmachina and not invite me over to the Ironworks to help?”

Cid froze mid-sentence, eyes widening as the full scope of what he had done—or, better to say, had failed to do—finally registered. Silence descended on the group as they all turned to look at first Synnove, practically radiating affronted rage, and then Cid, gone paler than his shirt; the Warriors of Light watched in anticipation, the Ascian hunters in mild confusion. Rereha took out a bag of candied nuts from her pocket, opening it and shoving a handful into her mouth, chewing as she watched.

“Um,” said the engineer, gaze darting around frantically. “Happy nameday?”

“You sit on a throne of lies, my nameday is next moon and you know it,” Synnove said, pivoting on her heel to look at him. Galette yawned, finally waking up from her nap, looking around in confusion. She paused when she saw her mama’s expression, ears going back, and immediately hopped down, bounding over to Alakhai and pawing at her knees. The Xaela bent over and scooped the carbuncle up into her arms, letting the construct flop around her shoulders with a dramatic huff.

“Cid,” Heron said gently, reaching towards Synnove, “I will give you five seconds.”

Cid bolted. Synnove lunged forward, but was halted by Heron clamping down on Synnove’s shoulders. Heron’s arms noticeably noticed tensed as she held her sister in place, while the arcanist screeched in rage as she struggled against the Hellsguard’s sturdy grip.

And then, after five seconds, Heron let Synnove go.

Synnove tore after Cid, hollering at the top of her lungs, “DID YOU LET NERO IN ON THIS? I SWEAR TO THAL IF SCAEVA GOT HIS HANDS IN ITS GUTS BEFORE I COULD—”

“I DID NOT LET NERO ANYWHERE NEAR THE ALLAGAN WARMACHINA!”

“WHY SHOULD I BELIEVE YOU, YOU LYING LIAR WHO LIES?”

“IT’S NOT RED!”

“Fuck no,” said an aghast Rereha, “I’m gonna die at the age of forty-five of combined liver failure and heart attack with my face buried between the thighs of a high-class courtesan after drinking twice my volume in Bacchus wine and coming sixteen times the night before.”

A beat of silence.

Two.

Three.

The former Black Wolf closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose before he slowly let the breath out again in a heavy, sighing gust. “I had to say something,” he muttered, tired and resigned. “I knew better and I had to say something regardless.”

“Surely,” Gaius said, mild exasperation in his tone, “there are better ways of assuring oneself of the physical health of one’s scientist friends than this?”

The Hellsguard turned and arched an unimpressed eyebrow as she stared down at the former legatus. “You say that,” she said, “as if you yourself haven’t staged false emergencies to get your own flock of nerds to exercise and acquire fresh air.”

Gaius growled something in Garlean under his breath that sounded an awful lot like, Nero talks too much.

-------

“They Grow Up So Fast”:

“Do you mean Ehll Tou?” he said. He barely held back the relieved laugh.

“YES!” she wailed again, still face down against his shoulder. “Hautdilong came by and said it had been days since Ehll Tou had gone to the Churning Mists to share her sandwiches with her friends and she should have been back and he was worried and I was worried and so I went to Zenith to find her and deliver the hammer Arvide made for her and one of her friends said she wasn’t ready to be seen and what did that even mean—”

Aymeric ran a firm hand up and down her spine and murmured, “Sweetheart, breathe.”

Synnove sucked in a deep breath and let it out again, shakily. “—and I gave the hammer to Ehll Tou’s friend to deliver but I wasn’t going to leave until I saw Ehll Tou myself and then Arvide and Haudtilong arrived because Hautdilong had gotten so worried and then Ehll Tou finally came and she was BI-I-I-I-I-I-G.” The last word came out as one of those heaving, hiccupping sobs, drawing it out to multiple syllables.

He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and pulled away just enough to offer it to his lady. “Blow,” he said, fond.

-------

“Breaking Point”:

“I AM YOUR DAUGHTER, NOT AN INVESTMENT!”

-------

“Strings and Things”:

Lucia tapped the Watch commander’s shin reprovingly with her foot beneath the table. Hilda tapped back. Lucia nudged her more firmly. Hilda responded in kind.

“Ladies,” Heron said drily, glancing over her cards, “before you get involved in a game of footsie, please recall my legs take up most of the room here and I am not keen to be caught up in one of your public displays of affection. Again.”

Hilda sniffed in disdain, though Lucia at least had the decency to look abashed as the two resettled back to their card game.

“Buggering shite,” Hilda growled, reaching for the deck. “Ruthless, vicious, definitely cheating—”

“It’s why you love me,” Lucia quipped.

-------

“Arcane Diagnostics”:

“Synnove, have you seen my WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS.”

Synnove didn’t look up from peering through her magnifying glass. “No, Cid, I have not seen your what in the Seven Hells.”

“Fuck you,” Cid said with only a touch of heat. “What the hells have you done to my garage?”

“All right, first, it’s not your garage—”

“It’s Jessie’s, yes, I know, get new material.”

“—and second I have done nothing to it except commandeer it for my use.”

“Then explain the use.”

“I would like to remind you,” Cid said, in the sickeningly saccharine tone of someone about to savor some serious schadenfreude, “that A’khebica designed Carby to be self-programming.”

--------

“Points of Light”:

“I’m sorry, but that’s definitely a dick.”

“For fuck’s sake, Rereha.”

“Listen, if you want me to be more descriptive, I can tell you whose dick I think it is.”

Heron moaned in pain, covering her face with her hands. Alakhai started cackling, quiet and whispery. Synnove reached over Alakhai to whack Rereha with her pillow, but the lalafell quickly ducked into her bedroll with her own strident cackle to avoid being hit.

“You’re my little sister!” Heron said from behind her hands. “Stop putting those images in my head!”

“Aye,” said Heron, voice only a little slurred. “And who needs a perfect world, anyhow? That’s boring. Just have a couple of sisters at your side—or brothers if that’s how that turn about the sun goes—and things will turn out just fine.”

-------

“A Languorous Start”:

“We weren’t exactly quiet last night, my lady,” he drawled against her temple, “either here or in my office.”

“If anyone was loitering that close to your office or your rooms,” she said imperiously, “then they were being voyeuristic busybodies and should have minded their own business, or gotten laid elsewhere.”

-------

“Fedarloh Fulltouch Chalk”:

Somehow, Synnove’s expression became even stonier. “You have ten seconds to give me my chalk.”

“Or what?”

“Or I tell Aunt Angharad.”

Neither Synnove, Halulu, nor Nero blinked, but between one moment and the next, Rereha was holding out a small wooden box, right beneath Synnove’s nose. The Highlander stared down at it, eyes crossing to bring it into focus.

“How does she not break bones more often?” Nero said as he chewed the last of the popcorn.

“We’re fairly certain Hydaelyn likes her best,” Synnove said, absently petting the box containing her chalk and actually crooning wordlessly to it for a moment. Then she frowned, brow furrowing, and glanced up to stare at Nero with narrowed green eyes. “Where did you come from?”

“I arrived about when you were chasing Rereha around your office like a particularly demented game of cat and mouse,” Nero said, brushing his hands clean.

“…That didn’t actually answer the question I asked, but I’ll allow it.”

Synnove opened the box and removed a single piece of chalk, still unused, took three strides to stand in front of him, and shoved the chalk beneath his nose. “Smell it,” she said imperiously.

He looked askance at her, but knew better, and took a derisive sniff. He did not sneeze, and at that realization, his eyebrows ticked upwards.

“Touch it,” Halulu said.

Nero touched the stick of chalk with a single finger, and Synnove used the opportunity to hand it over to him. His eyebrows raised further when she did so.

“Kiss it,” Synnove said.

“I beg your pardon—”

“Kiss it,” both arcanists hissed, auras of palpable malevolence flaring to life around them. A knife suddenly glinted in Halulu’s hand.

Wide-eyed, and definitely knowing better, he obeyed.

“That,” said Halulu, in her usual cheerful tone of voice, knife vanished to whatever metafold pocket it was normally stored within, as he drew away with a moue of distaste, “is the motherlode.”

“It is,” Synnove said dreamily, “the best chalk produced anywhere on this star. Ever.”

“It’s rarely breaks.”

“It leaves almost no dust behind.”

“It writes so smoothly, like with ink on paper.”

“It’s impossible to write a false theorem with it!” Synnove gushed, then paused. “…All right, that one’s bullshite. But. It is absolutely much more fun to write out the latest drivel produced by Radz-at-Han when it’s time to poke holes in all their research.”

“Who’s your dealer?” he said waspishly.

“That is privileged information,” she said primly, crossing her arms, chalk box still in hand.

He glared venomously at her, teeth audibly grinding, before suddenly grinning, vicious and pleased and knowing. “Shall I tell Rammbroes you said hello when I pay him a visit? The Sons are currently the only organization operating outside the Sharlayan homeland that isn’t on the Forum’s shite-list.”

-------

“Decisive Battle”:

“You rebuilt and refurbished an Allagan warmachina AND DIDN’T INVITE US!” Synnove bellowed.

“The nerve!” Nero said, waving a wrench for emphasis.

“The audacity!”

“The betrayal!”

“Oh my gods, I will throw you both over a cliff,” Cid said, rubbing his temples.

“And, truly, Garlond,” said Nero, “I cannot believe you passed on the opportunity to enact poetic justice and use the VIIth’s own tricks against them by means of deploying a primal-infused weapon against their forces.”

“No, no, that is a trap,” Cid growled, jabbing a finger into Nero’s chest. “Not when the basis of their work is partially your research. I am not falling for your false flattery.”

Nero sniffed and smacked the other Garlean’s hand away. “Please, their synthetic auracite system is an abomination, even you could do better with the original Ultima Weapon’s blueprints on hand.”

Cid’s face turned a fascinating shade of red as he gaped at Nero, hands flexing in the manner of someone who desperately wanted to strangle the person before them. Synnove muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, Point to Nero.

“…Your carbuncles are terrifying instruments of wanton violence and destruction,” Nero said, staring at Ivar, “which speaks volumes about your actual levels of relative sanity and inherit bloodthirstiness.”

Synnove put her hand over her heart. “That is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she said, genuinely touched.

“I hope the next explosion you set off burns away your eyebrows and at least ten ilms of hair.”

“I hope the next time you get Thavnairian, the kitchen serves you the spice demon bowl and not the spice wuss one.”

-------

“Worst Case Scenario”:

Finally, Lucia came to Synnove’s room. Unsurprisingly, Aymeric had gone there straightaway, and when she arrived, the man was sitting as close as possible to Synnove’s bedside, holding her hand so that he could press his lips against her knuckles as Synnove slept, his other hand gently stroking her hair. Ivar was curled up on Synnove’s feet, but he raised his head as Lucia came into the room and, like his sister, chirped hello.

Lucia gave his ears a scratch before going to stand beside Aymeric, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He sighed deeply and murmured, “We put so much on them and expect even more, and then to see them laid low…”

“They well knew the risks of the adventurers’ path,” she said softly, “and it speaks of their courage and conviction that they have never faltered, even when the path forward is difficult. They will get through this, with the help of each other, and us, and all the rest of their friends.”

-------

“Mothers and Daughters”:

The arcanist shook her head to clear it of cobwebs, and warmly smiled at the woman. “Oh, no harm done, I always get lost in my head when I’m deeply involved in mathematics,” she said, to which Dulia-Chai sighed in relief while her ears relaxed. Synnove tilted her head and grinned a little wider. “Would you like to join me?”

Dulia-Chai smiled in return. “I would like that very much, thank you. I have my own work to be doing today while Chai-Nuzz is at the old Stoneworks offices, and I find it easier to stay focused when I am with like-minded individuals.”

Synnove laughed and leaned over to shove aside her grimoires so that they only covered a little less than half the table, rather than three-fourths. “Far less likely to be bothered here than at the Parlor, too, I imagine,” she drawled.

The miqo’te rolled her eyes as she slid onto the bench, setting down her things, opening a ledger and her folio, and beginning to spread out papers before her. “Heavens forfend that a woman enjoys some tea and biscuits in the sunshine while she balances the books!”

-------

“Stormsong”:

When the lalafell came to a stop before him, he grudgingly said, “Lieutenant Reha.”

“Ooooh, that’s Captain Reha now, Sergeant,” Rereha said, just shy of cackling.

Valdeaulin nearly dropped his pen. “Dear good gods, why do they keep promoting you?” he said in disbelief.

“Mostly to make me someone else’s problem,” she chirped, easily hopping up onto a stack of crates next to him. The dragonet in her arms croaked reproachfully as it was jostled, but she merely patted it on the head and continued, “I think the plan is to get me high enough that it forces Grand Marshal Brookstone to retire already. I am also, apparently, quite good at getting the job done even if it means someone goes prematurely grey from shock, mortification, or both.”

“That sounds like a quote,” he said.

Rereha held a finger up to her lips in a ‘shush’ gesture, smirking, and waggled her eyebrows.

-------

The Color of Home:

Synnove turned around once more and frowned herself as she took in his expression. “What’s wrong, love?”

There was no use lying. “Is something different with you?”

The frown turned into a playful smirk, amusement sparking in her eyes. “Darling, do I need to be a hypocrite?” she said, leaning back against the counter and crossing her arms, one eyebrow ticking upward.

“Considering how often I’m one regarding your own sleep and work habits, ‘tis only fair.”

Synnove laughed, his favorite sound in all the world, and said, “You work too long and too hard sometimes, my Aymeric. But, yes, I’ll grant you this: there is something different. Can you tell me what it is?” Her tone was light and lilting and dripping with mischief.

----

End of the Year Writer Meme! (Number 2 still left!)

#anonymous #dt answers things #meme stuff #ty for the ask!

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years

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#MarichatMay Day 17

I read @a-popcorn-kernel‘s entry for day 17 (you should read her stuff too, it’s really good!!) and she said something about struggling to write a balcony scene when she hadn’t had any problems before, which I felt completely when I was writing this. Why is it so much harder to find an idea when it’s imposed??

Anyway, hope you enjoy this! And if you’re bored in lockdown, honestly read/watch Cyrano, I really recommend it! Thanks for reading!

@marichatmay

---

Day 17: Balcony

Marinette paced on her terrasse, mouthing her lines. Miss Bustier had decided to make the study of Cyrano de Bergerac a little more fun for her class by staging the play for the end-of-year show. Only a few scenes had been retained, including the famous balcony scene in which Cyrano comes to the handsome Christian’s help to woo the beautiful and witty Roxane.

The young girl had been cast as Roxane for the scene, with Adrien as Christian and Max as Cyrano. She was very excited about the part. She had decided to step out of the shadows for the play, although she would also be making the costumes. She was curious about what being onstage would be like, and what better way to find out than in front of her classmates? And playing a character that inspired her - although Roxane could be perceived as shallow, Marinette thought it was actually nice that a woman would scorn a man because of his lack of wit, despite his good looks. Also, she couldn’t help but notice the irony of her role. For once, it would be Adrien at loss for words when talking to her and she the confident one, rather than the other way around. Even if it was just for a short amount of time.

She stopped in her tracks, her body mimicking her mind that had just blanked on her next line. She threw her head back, eyes closed in exasperation as she attempted to visualise what came next on the sheet of paper she was holding. She was about to summon Tikki to come and help her (the Kwami was hanging out somewhere in her room, probably next to Marinette’s stash of macarons) when she heard a very faint thud coming from the nearby roof. She carefully opened one eye, which was greeted by an intrigued-looking Chat Noir, his amused head slightly tilted to the side as he leaned on his baton.

“Cat got your tongue, Princess?” He asked, smoothly hopping down to join her.

“Just having trouble memorising my lines.” She smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing much. Thought I’d come hang out for a bit. Purr-haps I can help you while I’m here?” He held out a hand, and she instinctively gave him her text.

To tell the truth, ‘hanging out’ wasn’t the only reason Chat Noir had come over. Adrien had actually spotted her acting out her scene from the school entrance as he made his way down to the car after his fencing practise. He was still slightly disappointed by the play’s auditions. He’d only been given Christian’s role because of his looks, when he’d actually had his eye on the title role. Not to be the center of the play, but to be seen as something more than just a pretty model, for once. A bit like when he was being Chat. The only advantage of being Christian was that his Roxane was Marinette rather than Chloé, in whose arms Cyrano would be dying at the end. The heiress had been torn between demanding to switch with Marinette to share her scene with her Adrikins and keeping her own, which was a lot more dramatic. Miss Bustier had ruled it out for her; the casting was final, including the act they’d play in.

Which hadn’t prevented Adrien from learning Cyrano’s part on top of his own. Which he now recited.

“What a coincidence that your school would also study Cyrano, and that you would know the dialogue for exactly this scene!” She said, incredulous.

“Look at you speaking almost in Alexandrine,” he teased, using the verse himself to hide the fact it wasn’t as much of a coincidence as she thought. “That’s not the line though, you’re supposed to say...”

They continued to rehearse, Marinette sitting on the chimney to give herself a sense of height, while Chat sat on her deckchair, almost hidden from her sight. Looking at her, comfortably swinging her feet as she spoke Roxane’s passionate replies, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful and carefree she looked.

“You’re amazing, Marinette.” He said as she finished her line, his smile spreading to his masked eyes as he stood up, absentmindedly brushing inexistant dust from his knees.

She looked at him curiously as she tried to figure out who he reminded her of in this particular moment, then shook her head. “You’re already leaving?” She asked, slightly disappointed. “But we haven’t finished the scene yet!”

“I’ve done my part.” He handed her the paper, and she skim read the last pages. Cyrano didn’t have any more lines. “Purr-haps you could get Christian to help you with the end bit? Who did you say was playing him?” He smiled maliciously.

“A-Adrien Agreste.” She replied in a flat voice, rediscovering the scene’s ending. Roxane kissed Christian. And then got married to him.

Which meant she would be kissing and marrying Adrien.

“The model? No kitten!” He tried to read her expression as he took her hand and kissed it. He couldn’t tell if she was terrified or over the Moon. Both emotions seemed to flicker in her eyes.

Hesitantly, she bent down, cupping his face with her hands. And kissed him gently.

Chat Noir’s heart fluttered in his chest at the soft brush of her lips. Before he could react, she pulled away, a slight blush on her cheeks.

“What was that for?” He squawked more than he asked.

“That was my next line.” She gave him a very Ladybug smile. She had to rehearse it at least once before facing Adrien. What if it went terribly? Chat Noir was a great guinea pig. It’s not like they’d never kissed before.

“Right. Of course.” He cleared his throat and patted her knees. “Excellent delivery. Keep up the good work. I- er, I really should get going though.”

Marinette couldn’t believe her eyes. Had she flustered Chat Noir? Was that even possible? Even as Ladybug, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him so... disorientated? He turned back just before reaching the railing, his expression indecipherable. “Really good job today. See you later, Purr-incess.”

He hopped off, his purr finally erupting freely as he jumped from one rooftop to the next, his mind still on that impromptu kiss. Forget playing Cyrano, he was so looking forward to being Christian. And getting kissed by Marinette again. For the sake of the play, of course. She was such a great actress, he couldn’t wait for her talent to be revealed. Nothing to do with the warmth he felt in his chest at the mere thought of her.

#marichatmay2020 #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #marichat #adrienette #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #mlb #miraculous #adrien agreste #balcony #elle writes

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eskalations · 4 years

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Smoke and Gunpowder, Chapter 5

A/N: Below the “read more” since it’s a bit long!

Summary: Even now, in the privacy of her room and away from the prying eyes of their government, he stiffened at her proximity. The careful lines drawn between the two of them seemed to blur at times like these when they were alone and out of uniform. In the dim light of her room, it was easy to imagine that they were just a quiet country boy and bold city girl again. (ROYAI GENDERBEND AU)

AO3 | FFN

Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Chapter Summary:

There was no way he could be here. The last time she had spoken to him, he had not said a word about joining the military. She had always thought he had wanted to become an engineer or something of that nature. Surely, with his father's notorious distaste for the State Military, the young man would have never considered becoming a part of its ranks – right?

A/N: Another chapter down! I thought it was finally time to introduce Maes Hughes. Most of the dialogue in this chapter has come straight from the manga, since I wanted to keep this AU as much in the realm of canon as possible. The only slight change that has been made is to the timeline. In this AU, Mustang joined the Military Academy in 1905 post-Master Hawkeye's death, while Maes Hughes graduated from the Military Academy in 1906 instead of 1905. Other than that, everything is pretty much the same from the original telling of this. Don't worry about the slight lack of Royai in this chapter, this was mostly used as an opportunity to build up some backstories. We will be returning to Ishval in other chapters, so you WILL get to see more of their time together during the war.

Please let me know what you think! Comments are always welcome!

Ishval, East Area - Summer of 1908

"Mustang!"

Over the dull ringing in her ears, the young Major could just make out the sound of someone calling her name. The voice sounded familiar, though she couldn't be sure. Under the burning sun of Ishval, hallucinations were prevalent – and she had had more than her fair share since arriving here.

However, when she glanced back at the group of soldiers huddled around the water trough, she sighed gratefully. Running towards her was a dark-haired man with glasses situated over his sharp, Amestrian features.

"Hughes!" She called from the wash station, her tired voice tinged with relief. Oh, how good it was to see a familiar face amongst this hell. Maes Hughes, as always, had impeccable timing. "So you're here too?"

The man, who was four years her senior, had to stop for a second to catch his breath. Under the heavy wool of their uniforms, any minor exertion of energy suddenly became a marathon of effort. Once his breathing had finally returned to normal – a bright grin broke out on his features. It didn't escape the young woman that the smile didn't reach anywhere near his eyes though.

"Hey it's been awhile Musta – ," Maes paused as the girl reached out to give him their customary fist bump. The overcoat she was wearing over her uniform slipped, giving way to the single star on her shoulder. This caught the man's attention immediately. "Oh! Now you're 'Major Mustang,' aren't you?!"

Raina could tell the words were meant to have a competitive edge, given the man's own lower status – however, she could hear a great amount of pride within them as well. His smile only grew bigger as their fists touched.

After taking her certification to become a State Alchemist, Raina had insisted on being given the opportunity to earn her keep by joining the Military Academy. Though she would be instantly given the title of Major due to the nature of her skills, she still wanted to pay her dues and learn what it was like to be a REAL soldier – one who wasn't just intended to be used as a human weapon. She wanted people to respect her and acknowledge that she had earned any rank she had received by merit rather than chance.

This was more of a challenge than she had expected given her age and gender. Though the State Military did not discriminate between male and female – that didn't mean the lonely cadets of the Academy didn't. She was 16 when she entered the Academy, the Fuhrer himself approving her enrollment and bypassing the normal age requirements, which caused tongues to wag throughout every branch of the military. Her male counterparts in class had ogled her, seeing her as nothing more than a nice thing to look at while they completed basic training.

Hughes had always seen her as the little sister he had never had. After their initial competitive streak in the Academy, the two of them had found that they were a backwards set of kindred spirits. Hughes with his endless optimism and unrivaled wit and Raina with her fiery determination and lofty goals. The pair had become quite the undefeatable duo during their time at the Academy.

Unfortunately, others didn't hold her in as of high regards as Hughes, despite her already promised title upon graduation. In fact, that only seemed to add more fuel to the fire.

During her time at the Academy, the men had constantly whispered about the young and beautiful Flame Alchemist. No matter how many times she tested at the top of her class or received amongst the highest marks in her physicals, her fellow cadets never seemed to take her as seriously as she would have liked. The only one who truly ever saw her as a threat was Hughes himself.

Hughes with all his enthusiasm and desire to be the best had seen the young Mustang for what she was – competition. Never had he focused on the fact that she was a girl, all he saw was a fellow soldier. Thus, began their competitive streak.

Over time, a bond had formed between the two. After having taken her leave of the Hawkeye residence, Raina had begun to miss the constant male presence she had grown used to when she was out east. Though Maes Hughes and Ray Hawkeye were about as different as night and day, it was the steady nature of the two that seemed to bring Raina such unmatched comfort.

While Hughes had graduated long before she had, the bond they shared was one she was never able to replicate in her remaining years at the Academy.

It figures that they would both end up in Ishval. Pretty much everyone was ending up in Ishval.

"To be more precise, it's a position equivalent to a Major," She removed her ignition gloves, waving them in front of him as a reminder. It wasn't like she had to put much effort into gaining her current rank. "Actually, I only have as much authority as a Captain."

While she dipped her hands into the cool water of the wash station, Hughes released a victorious whoop. "Ha, same as me then!"

"You became a Captain? When?" There was genuine curiosity in her tone. Hughes sure had climbed the ranks quickly, even without the help of alchemy. She splashed water in her face, letting it cool her heated skin.

"Just now!" He remarked brightly, handing her a towel. "Out here, people high and low keep dying. If you gain a little credit…"

Raina paused with towel in hand, glancing over at the man to see what had caused him to stop. It was the first time during their conversation that their eyes had met. Hughes looked uneasy.

"You…" The man had to clear his throat before continuing. "You've got a different look in your eyes."

Yes, she supposed she did.

Toweling off the dampness that still lingered on her skin, Raina threw the used towel into a waiting basket. She and Hughes walked off to the side, allowing the soldiers behind them to gain access to the basin. Despite hearing the disappointment in his tone, Raina found it impossible to look away in shame.

"You do, too." She met his gaze head on. "They're killer's eyes."

Hughes smirked, though there was no real humor behind the action. "Yeah."

With that they chose to distance themselves from the camp, knowing that their conversation was about to take a dangerous turn. One could almost say traitorous. If the look in their eyes was any indication, then it certainly didn't seem like either of them was terribly happy about what they had been called to do.

Once the voices of their fellow soldiers were but a mere hum in the distance behind them, they stopped walking. The endless Ishvalan desert went on for miles in front of them. Off in the distant sky, they glimpsed a large plum of smoke, signaling that another Ishvalan town was also under siege.

At the sight, Maes sighed heavily.

"It feels familiar, like it was just a while ago." The man gave another humorless laugh, turning to face his companion. Though his eyes shined with mirth, he couldn't hide the pain that lingered behind them. "Your eyes were sparkling at the Military Academy. We all sure talked about this country's future."

Raina remembered those days quite vividly. Despite her dour mood from earlier, she couldn't fight back the smirk that appeared on her features. "Yeah, we sure did."

Hughes hadn't been the only one she had shared her vision for the future with. It was one of the last things she had ever spoken to Master Hawkeye about. Oh, how he would be disappointed in her now. The exact worries he had for his flame alchemy had come to fruition and there was very little she could say to defend herself.

"How funny it is to think about that beautiful future now."

"Raina, you know this stuff wasn't a part of that beautiful future." Hughes rarely used her first name. He had always made sure to address her just as he would any other man in the field – to validate the respect he felt towards her. However, at the sight of her guilty countenance, he chose to throw that out the window. "This wasn't what any of us imagined."

They walked a few steps, passing by a gaggle of dead Ishvalans already covered in sand. Neither reacted to the sight.

"How's life here?" The Captain asked casually, stepping over some rubble as they made their way further from the camp. "I haven't seen you since I graduated."

They continued in that vein, discussing what they had seen since being called out to the field. It seemed much the same – gunfire and blasts. The only objective at this point was complete annihilation of the Ishvallan race, plain and simple. They knew of nothing else. Every morning was the same.

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant Hughes!" They paused their chat as a fresh-faced cadet ran to where they stood. The young man was puffing by the time he caught up to them. There was a letter in his hand.

"It's Captain," Hughes grumbled as he turned to receive the young cadet.

"Oh! Excuse me!" The soldier raised his hand to salute his superior, apology evident in his tone. "It's a letter!"

The man handed it over to him before taking his leave – catching wind that this was very much a private conversation. Hughes turned the envelope over in his hands to read who the sender was. The exclamation that escaped him had Raina jumping in surprise.

"Oh!"

"What is it?!" Raina asked, one hand clutching at her heart. You just couldn't scare soldiers like that. Hughes was unperturbed by her reaction, too busy rubbing the parchment against his cheek.

"It's MY beautiful future!" He held up the envelope for her to read. Raina had to squint to read the tiny cursive.

"Gracia? You've got yourself a woman?"

"She's in Central!" The man brought the envelope to his chest, raising one fist in an impassioned fashion. "She's been waiting for my return all this time."

Raina snorted at the display, hardly able to believe this man was the same one that was a killer on the battlefield.

Noticing her less than stellar response, Hughes smirked. There was a playful glint in his eyes. "What are you disappointed that I'm no longer on the market?"

Raina gave him a wry grin. "Not at all, I'm happy for you."

During their time at the Academy, their relationship had been brought to question many times by their fellow cadets. Since most of the boys spent their time shamelessly flirting with the young girl, they had a hard time imagining that any man would try and befriend her. To them, the entire friendship had to be a cover up for some kind of sordid affair.

But their accusations simply weren't valid. If anything, Hughes had become a surrogate big brother to her in the Academy. He was constantly helping shield her from unwanted advances, although he knew she could handle herself just fine. She had been offended for a while at his behavior, until she realized this was just a part of him. He was protective of those he loved.

By graduation, their supposed romantic relationship had become somewhat of a joke between the two of them.

Hughes gave her an appreciative smile – however, it soon slipped from its place, replaced by one of sheer anxiety. Under the hot, midday sun, Hughes went white as a sheet.

"It just occurred to me – what'll I do if some other guy is making a pass at her?!" Raina opened her mouth to calm him fears, but Hughes ignored her – continuing to mutter near incoherently. "No there's no way that Gracia would leave a great guy like me to have an affair."

"Hughes – "

"No no no!"

"Hughes, I don't think – "

"But there's still no way the guys around her would leave such a great woman alone!" The man grabbed his face in a dramatic fashion, his turmoil evident in the fearful expression on his face. Raina was not amused by the display.

"Hey!" The frustrated shout stopped the man's ranting. He turned to where his friend stood with an annoyed look. "Hughes, I'll give you one word of advice."

The Captain raised a single brow, curious as to what his companion had to say.

"It's a common pattern in movies and novels. Guys who talk happily of their families or lovers on the battlefield?" Hughes nodded, hanging on every word. That was until Raina made a pistol with her fingers and pretended to shoot. "Have a higher chance of dying."

"Not funny, Mustang."

"It's true! How can you talk about such things out here?" She pointed an accusatory finger to his chest, her expression hard. "How can you talk about that when you're out here killing?"

"What are you saying you don't have ANYTHING light hearted to talk about?" Hughes countered, hands on his hips.

As their squabble continued, both failed to noticed the sound of sand shuffling behind them. One of the Ishvalan men that they had passed, whom they had assumed to be dead, had risen from the rubble, knife in hand. He raised it high above their heads before either of them took notice of his presence.

Once Raina realized that a shadow was descending upon them, she turned to face the threat head on. Hughes had already pulled out one of his own blades, but the girl was completely defenseless with her gloves still stuck in her pocket.

Before the man could plunge the knife forward - a shot rang out.

Both soldiers stood in shock as their attacker crumpled to the ground – blood pouring heavily from a fatal wound to the head. The red liquid stained the sand at their feet, running under the thick rubber soles of their boots. Neither said a word as they silently stared at the scene in front of them.

Regaining her senses, Raina quickly pulled out her gloves, sliding them in place over her fingers. "A shot?"

The girl's eyes were scanning the area for any potential threat that could still exist, when Hughes reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, blade already back in his pocket.

"It's okay." He assured her, his eyes glued on the sniper tower that lay in the distance. "We have a 'Hawk's Eye' on us out here."

Raina fought the urge to jolt at the name, her heart beating a million miles a minute. "Hawk…?"

Not noticing her distress, Hughes continued. "Yeah, it's a still nameless sniper. It's become quite a topic among us. He's still a cadet in the Military Academy, but at any rate, he's got a good arm. It seems they brought him all the way out here because of our dismal numbers."

His companion nodded in acknowledgement, though she could barely hear him over the roaring in her ears.

"To think they had to pull out a fresh recruit like that." Hughes shook his head in disbelief, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. "This must be the end."

Raina's eyes never left the tower, even as they began to walk back into camp.

Could it really be…?

As night fell over Ishval, the distant sound of explosions and gunfire lowered to a buzz. Soldiers milled about campfires, swapping stories over meagre rations while they passed around bottles of liquor. One would never know that most of the men, who were drunkenly singing bar songs off-key and swaying with their arms around each other, were cold-blooded killers.

Raina had stuck by Hughes' side for most of the day, catching up on events that had transpired since they had last saw the other. At this point – she knew Gracia's favorite flower, her favorite position, her blood type, and many other details about the woman that she would have rather remained a mystery. However, she had way too much on her mind to really be too frustrated with Hughes' seemingly endless prattle.

She was still distracted by her own thoughts when Hughes called out to a group of snipers huddled around the campfire.

"There he is!" Before the Major could say anything more, Hughes called out to a cloaked figure seated by the fire. "Hey! Thanks for before. You were the one that shot that, right?"

"Yes," A deep voice answered from beneath his hood.

Raina's blood ran cold.

The sniper stood to his full height, a single hand raising to remove his head covering. The moment his flaxen blonde hair was revealed, the young soldier knew exactly who their savior was.

Ray Hawkeye was in Ishval.

His familiar features were hard against the dancing light of the fire. The sharp cheekbones and pointed nose that she had become so well acquainted with both looked much the same as they had the last time she saw him. She supposed he did look older – it had been four years – but other than that, he was still the Ray Hawkeye that she had grown up with.

The only difference was his eyes. Those amber pools used to have a gentle quality to them. Now, they were hardened by war.

Now, they were the eyes of a killer.

"It's been awhile, Miss Mustang." His tone gave nothing away as his gaze fell on her. "No, perhaps I should call you 'Major Mustang' now."

Though to anyone else, his tone would have come off as highly professional, she knew him too well to fall for that. There was a hint of accusation in the way he said her new title. Even over the den of the still rowdy soldiers, she could hear the disappointment in the words he spoke.

Maes was confused by the interaction, letting out a sound of confusion. Both the soldier and the sniper chose to ignore him.

"Have you begun to remember?"

"How could I forget?" She swallowed hard, her voice shaking with immense guilt.

Of course, she remembered. She remembered nearly every conversation he had engaged her in for the two short years she had lived with him. She remembered every smile, every joke, every story shared between the two of them, that spoke of friendship rather than the strictly professional relationship that he had tried to build up with her – and she most definitely remembered what they had given each other the last time they were together.

Ray Hawkeye had given her flame alchemy, while she had given him hope.

'Some hope,' She thought as they continued to stare at one another.

Hughes at some point had decided to remove himself from the situation, joining in on the drunken shenanigans taking place around the fire with pictures of Gracia held in his hands. Raina would have laughed at such a sight if she wasn't so flustered by the events of the day. Never would she have believed she would see him here.

With Hughes gone, the two drifted away from the camp. Learning her lesson from last time, Raina didn't dare remove her gloves. When they were safely hidden behind a half wall of bricks, Hawkeye set his sniper rifle down before turning to her.

Raina Mustang had seen Ray Hawkeye beaten down before. She could remember the hard looks he would give her when he walked out of his father's study after receiving a verbal lashing. His amber eyes would appear defensive, just daring her to say a word about what had transpired, but there would be sadness there as well.

The Hawkeye that stood in front of her was beaten down – but in a way, that she had never seen before. This wasn't just a young man who was considered a disappointment to his father, this was a young man that got thrown into a war when he didn't believe in what he was fighting for.

Raina could relate to this man, more than she had ever been able to relate to him before.

The silence stretched between them until Hawkeye's quiet voice finally broke it.

"I was afraid of my father."

The admission was so quiet, that Raina half believed she hadn't actually heard it. She supposed though, that this was nothing new. She knew that Ray and Master Hawkeye had never seen eye-to-eye. Though Ray would always gaze at her coldly when he left his father's study, it wasn't enough to erase the memories she had of the voices she had heard beyond those doors.

'You're no good,' Berthold Hawkeye would say to his son from behind the wood, vitriol evident in his tone. 'You never took to alchemy, so I had to take on an apprentice just to ensure that my research does not die with me. The least you can do is help protect it. You act like it's such a burden to bear when really you are nothing more than the keeper of it.'

Raina had never understood what they were fighting about until the day of Master Hawkeye's funeral. That was also the day she had come to understand where the bruises on Ray Hawkeye's skin had come from and why he always seemed to be plagued by dry eye.

She knew he was afraid of his father, but god she never thought he would admit it.

He took her silence as a signal to carry on. "I was afraid because the sight of him absorbed in his research was as if he was possessed by something."

Raina nodded. "I remember."

She knew exactly what the man meant. Master Hawkeye would sometimes go days without speaking – days without eating – all for the sake of his research. He was practically catatonic during those episodes of extreme hyper fixation, and there was very little either she or his son could do to shake him out of it. As he got closer and closer to death, the episodes got worse and more volatile. He would yell and scream if you tried to deter him from his research. It was like a little piece of humanity left him every time he made a new discovery, like some kind of twisted form of equivalent exchange.

"Yet," He continued, sighing deeply. His dark eyes turned to the stars as if searching for an answer. His face grew remorseful. "I still believed in my father's words that this great power would bring happiness to many people."

Raina could remember Master Hawkeye carrying on about how important his research would be in building a better future. Despite his violent behaviors, the man was genuine in his desire to see his work be used for good.

Hawkeye switched his gaze from the stars to his hands. The hands that now could kill with only the twitch of a finger. Rough and calloused, he now had sniper hands.

"I truly believed alchemy could be used for the good of the people and that the military would protect this country's future…" His eyes moved to meet her own dark set. The disappointment in his expression was evident. "Please tell me, Major. Why are soldiers, who ought to protect citizens, killing them instead? Why is alchemy, which ought to bring happiness to the people, being used for murder?"

His words were like a knife to her heart.

She knew why he was posing this question to her. There was no mistake about it. Just as she had remembered every conversation between them, he had taken note of them as well. He remembered what she had told him when she ran off to join the Military Academy – the hope she had instilled within him that led him to handing over the secrets to flame alchemy.

He remembered that hope, because It was the same hope that had thrown him straight into a war.

#royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fma #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai fanfiction #fma fic #fma fanfiction #fma fanfic #genderbend #genderbend au #genderbend fanfiction

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pricechecktranslations · 5 years

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TTDS: The Emerald Girl; Chapter 3

Torture Tower Doesn’t Sleep: The Emerald Girl infomine under the cut

Scene 1

A carriage pulled by two white horses is heading for the royal capital. Their fur is beautiful but their bodies apparently are really ugly and look like donkeys. But they run fast, and they can easily pull along the large and heavy carriage, full of various items and two people inside (Gibbet and Rabiah). They have no coachman, either.

Their names are Johanson and Robinson (yohanson and robinson). It’s been two days since Rabiah appeared in the tower.

Rabiah explains they are wraith kin (I assume this means they’re some kind of magical beast), and they come from Vunack’s Forest (Bennac? It’s “Bunakku”), named for a strong wraith supposedly with powers of corrosion. The forest is known as a death forest, pretty much. Normal things can’t live there—the horses are apparently descended from his familiar.

As a note, Rabiah’s sentence enders are all in katakana (like ne, sa, yo, ze, etc). I don’t know if this is meant to indicate a rising inflection or what. He also refers to Gibbet as “Honey” again before she rebukes him for it.

The carriage is packed with torture devices. Rack and Maiden’s inanimate forms are among them.

They’re tracking Beritoad through the horses’ sense of smell (having picked up his scent from the Pot of Basuzu).

On Rabiah—Beritoad has mentioned having a familiar before, that he was black-haired, pretentious, and eccentric. He explains that he was away from the tower for two reasons. One was because it was his job to be Beritoad’s “eyes” in far off places as he couldn’t leave the tower (he witnessed Hank’s death during this, having tried to help but unable to do so. He couldn’t even recover the body—his irritation at this led him to slaughter the royal army, which is the event Helios VII witnessed). The other reason was because of what he refers to as a “lover’s quarrel” between him and Beritoad. He says they fought over a woman, so he left the tower without getting in contact for a while. He has since calmed down, and came back to apologize.

Scene 2

Beritoad is floating in a tube in Hargain’s lab. Liam and Hargain are in the room. Hargain greets him, Beritoad makes a jab at how old and bald he is, and then they get to discussing Tsukumo. Hargain created her, but he had to rely on what was written in the “Ending Records”—which, despite owning them, Beritoad has not read (Hargain finds this hilarious—Beritoad didn’t even know what they contained, he just felt like he wanted to hold onto them).

Hargain asks where the missing pieces of record LXXII are. Beritoad hems and haws, like he doesn’t remember what happened to them after he stole them from Romarius.

Hargain decides, if he needs a little more time to “remember” where it is, that in the meanwhile he’ll vivisect him alive to study his alchemy power.

Scene 3

Liam leaves after Beritoad starts screaming. Hargain told him to go rest in the servants’ quarters. Instead, he goes to the room where Raymond’s been staying (as a note, Raymond’s room has a lock, but only one that can be locked from the outside to keep the person trapped in there). The two of them didn’t talk during the trip back.

Liam has no ill will towards Raymond for their fight—he wants to be on good terms again, as they were friends back in their circus days. He offers to get him some food (of course, Raymond hates the food here). Hargain has basically made Raymond a prisoner to keep him from killing Beritoad, against Liam’s suggestion (he can visit Tsukumo just because she’s lonely without him, but that’s it).

Liam tells him that Beritoad is in the lab and that Liam couldn’t stay (hinting that he’s being experimented on). This seems to put Raymond in an even worse mood. Liam wonders if he should apologize, but he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. They talk some more, and Raymond confirms that Beritoad is his father (which he hates him for). He’d left the circus to find him (and that’s where he went to Romarius).

After Raymond presses him on it, Liam explains he’s not following Hargain out of loyalty or anything like that, but pity. He says that, in a different fashion from Raymond, his time too has been stopped.

Feeling awkward (Liam doesn’t strike me as a great people person), Liam suggests heading to Tsukumo’s room to break the tension.

Scene 4

Tsukumo is napping when they get there. They talk about her a bit (Raymond put out that she’s chosen him as her “papa”). They both think it’s strange that she looks like such an innocent little girl when she has such extreme powers.

She threw Rack out the window with a cyclone, and flooded out Maiden using a nearby water jug to make a whirlpool (more than the amount of water that was originally in there), a whirlpool that avoided Liam, Raymond, and Tsukumo. Maiden had tried to pursue them up the stairs, but partway through ran out of power and became an iron maiden.

Raymond had thought humans couldn’t use magic. He even doubted that Hargain, who was supposedly a sorcerer, could do magic on the level of wraiths. But then, Tsukumo isn’t necessarily a true human. He wonders what will happen to her—he knows people rarely accept what is strange to them.

Raymond hates wraiths, true. But humans aren’t so great either. They shunned his mother, oppressed her, crucified her, and then set her on fire. But those people are dead now. The village was burned down by a lightning bolt (doesn’t say outright but pretty sure it was Raymond). Beritoad is the only target of revenge he has left. And it was humans who reached out to him when he lost everything.

Raymond has fond memories of the circus with his fellow performers, which is what taught him to love humanity instead of hate them like he does wraiths.

He thinks on Tsukumo a little, wondering what she is and what she thinks of herself, before they go to leave as she’s still asleep. He notices that despite all his furniture being new, Tsukumo’s furniture is old.

After a little ribbing, Liam explains that the furniture are all things that Hargain’s first wife, Thyful (sifuru--her name romanization is written on some concept art), used.

Hargain has married and divorced four women so far (drawn to his power and wealth, most of them). Siful was before he became a sorcerer, though.

They talk about the issue a bit more, Liam seeming a little cagey about it, before he ultimately changes the subject and takes him back to his room.

Scene 5

Back to Gibbet and Rabiah. The horses stop as the capital city comes up on the horizon. Rabiah goes to talk to the horses (which he can do apparently, though Gibbet can’t understand them). The horses say that they’ve lost the scent (which could be because it’s nearby or because something has erased the scent).

Rabiah proposes he turn into a raven and see if he can sense Beritoad from the air, though it’ll take a while. He offers for her to find an inn, but she insists on just sleeping in the carriage.

Scene 6

Tsukumo gives Raymond a necklace (a girly one that doesn’t suit him—she made it using things she found in her desk). He pretends to like it to please her (if it were anyone else he’d be blunt about it). They’re in her room right now.

He’d gotten bored in his own room—he’d tried to break free to get to Beritoad, but couldn’t (door too sturdy, would fry himself in the ensuing fire if he used lightning, etc). He’d headed to Tsukumo’s room to see if he could find a chance to escape, but of course Liam is watching them and he doesn’t want to hurt Liam necessarily.

Raymond joined the circus when he was seven after losing everything. Liam was already there, and he didn’t have parents either. They were similar in age, so Liam showed Raymond the ropes. Raymond was clumsy, and would have gotten thrown out if it wasn’t for Liam. And even when the troupe found out he was part wraith, Liam was the only one to never treat him worse for it—he even managed to convince the other troupe members to accept Raymond.

Liam was abandoned soon after he was born. He wants to meet his parents, find out why they left him, and if it was a good reason to then live with them again. Contrasted with Raymond, who wanted to find his dad to kill him (he views this as his reason for living, in fact).

He figures he’ll have to play nice for now—Liam is tougher than he looks (particularly in physical strength), even ignoring the fact that he doesn’t really want to hurt him.

Tsukumo’s eyes are glowing. She says it’s her being protected by the “spirits” (I don’t know who she means) so that bad people stay away from them (--based on some of the dialogue on the previous scene, and putting it together with this one, I think we can safely assume she is the one who messed up the horse’s tracking).

She gives Raymond an empty cup, saying there’s coffee inside. He pretends to drink it to make her happy.

Tsukumo’s memory is very mismatched. She can’t remember past three days, but she remembered what to do during the assault on Torcia Tower.

He thinks on her—how he learned to hide his true abilities among other people. But wondering if Tsukumo is capable of that—if she’ll be discriminated against for her powers. He resolves to always treat her like a “human”—he doesn’t want her to end up like he did when he was a child.

Tsukumo asks him to sleep in her room tonight (which of course freaks him out a little, though she doesn’t mean it like that). Liam thinks this is hilarious (he calls him a “Lolicon”). Raymond once more considers bulldozing through him to get to Beritoad.

Scene 7

Tsukumo suddenly wakes up in the night to Raymond being gone. She gets lonely at that. Now, this scene is from her perspective, and from the looks of it she’s more self aware than the others realize. She knows she’s a “monster” born from a tank, and that she has a bad memory. She’s actually frustrated by how hard it is to remember things.

She looks outside (she remembers stars, but not what the moon is called). As she’s looking, she sees Rabiah in his raven form (not able to remember what he’s called). Suddenly, she gets a bout of tinnitus. It confuses her mind—but it also feels good. Suddenly she recalls that he is a “wraith”, an enemy she must defeat. Her eyes glow, and the ends of her hair waver. She calls upon the “spirits” for help.

She summons massive, long, sharp hail (water spears basically) from the sky. They strike Rabiah, and he falls from the sky.

Scene 8

Rabiah doesn’t come back to the carriage for four days. Gibbet passes the time by making flower bouquets. There’s supplies in the carriage for her to live off of. Rabiah ate some along the way (which surprises her—she’s never met a wraith outside of herself who needed to eat. Maiden and Rack ate, but that’s more in imitation of her than needing to). She’s actually relieved, because she was a little bothered by being the only one who needed to eat (apparently whether wraiths need to eat or not is on an individual basis).

She thinks on wraiths, and then humans, and then wonders a little on why she detests them so heavily.

The horses rile up a little. Apparently they are not pureblooded wraiths—though descended from Vunack, there’s regular animal blood in there too. Gibbet looks out of the carriage to see Rabiah has returned.

He reports that he’s found Beritoad, in the mansion of the founder of Crossrosier, Hargain. They discuss him a little (same deal as with Liam—underlings are fakes but he’s the real deal). Rabiah has fought him before.

Scene 9

They arrive at an area overlooking the mansion. Apparently, Hank used to live there before he moved to Torcia (Hargain taking it over after he moved as an associate of his). Rabiah says this is convenient for them (he doesn’t say why, but I think it has to do with what happens next).

The closer they get to the mansion, the more Rack and Maiden begin to regain their human forms (or, well, Rack becomes mostly humanoid and Maiden only manages to get her head back). Eventually they’re transformed enough to talk and move (though it seems they’re not at full strength due to their distance from Beritoad). Rack recognizes and greets Rabiah cheerfully (to the surprise of Gibbet).

It turns out that Maiden and Rack were conscious the entire time they were in their torture device forms. The crew decides to talk through their strategy and what they’re up against before they break into the mansion.

#()torture tower doesn't sleep #and neither does price apparently

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sonnenstola · 6 years

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below the cut is my essay of thoughts on sunday’s episode because i don’t want to Spoil anything big for those who haven’t had the chance to watch yet!!

okay, so i want to start by saying that this episode wasn’t as cringe-inducing as i’d feared. because i wasn’t ready for proposal 2.0, honestly. i wouldn’t make it through another public proposal and rejection. i’d be closing shop and skedaddling my way out the door to canon divergency. but the fact that he didn’t outright ask and knew to backtrack ( however poorly ) was enough to keep me rooted in my seat, though i do want to pause and go over the proposal and his intentions real quick.

i would like to remind everyone that eugene died for rapunzel’s freedom. because he loves her and understands how much her freedom means to her and this should be recognized more. yes, it’s his dream to settle down and live a relaxed life with the woman he loves because he’s done the adventure thing as flynn and is ready to close that chapter, but because rapunzel is experiencing it all for the first time he’s willing to journey on beside her. he’s seeing the world fresh, as eugene fitzherbert instead of flynn rider, and he’s finding new things about it through rapunzel’s wonder and enthusiasm for the world!! he appreciates said wonder and enthusiasm!! so can someone please tell me why the assumption is that he expects an immediate wedding post-proposal???

maybe the first time around, sure, but as he admits ( not to rapunzel which i’m still salty about ) it was out of fear that what he had was good and he didn’t want to lose it. this second time they’re out on a mission-- to find out what the black rocks are leading them to and how they can save corona. they’ve been on the road for a week, and he’s planning on proposing again. there’s no way he’s thinking ‘if i propose now and she says yes we’re gonna turn around and have a wedding and just settle down’. he’s not trying to immediately tie her down and throw a big wedding and lead domestic lives at the castle. they were still going to go through with the mission and have the grand adventure that goes along with it! i just don’t understand the train of thought here because eugene fitzherbert cherishes rapunzel and her feelings and dreams and wouldn’t actively try and cut her wings.

that said, i think the ‘people telling eugene the proposal is dumb’ thing got waaay overdone in this episode. we already had him dealing with people giving him a hard time in the season one premiere, it really wasn’t necessary to have so many people continue to harp on the subject this time around, especially not after he did it and clearly didn’t want to talk about it anymore. but honestly, bless cassandra for stepping in and being the one to point out that eugene was clearly not behaving like himself/something wasn’t right. that whole scene showed so much growth and i loved every second of it.

i’d like to point out the eugene and stalyan dynamic now. because hoooo there’s a lot to unpack there. i was right to be wary about her character, because she was manipulative and downright a stereotypical mean girl love rival. the fact that her face kinda looked like jane’s from tarzan threw me for a bit, but i did like some of the material given to her. while it made me want to fight her, i did enjoy the way she refused to call him eugene and stubbornly just called him ‘rider’, as it made the way rapunzel say his name become something emphasized. stalyan’s repetition of ‘we’re meant to be’ and ‘this is how it’s supposed to be’ and stuff along those lines was oddly contrasted by her ( in my eugene-loving opinion ) gut-wrenching ‘do you really think it’s fair to ask a girl who spent the first 18 years of her life in prison to give up her freedom for a lifelong relationship with someone like you?’. it sounds like he’s not worthy of rapunzel, yet stalyan’s fighting tooth and nail to have him for herself. of course this is a manipulation tactic, trying to knock down his esteem and faith in his relationship with rapunzels and its strength, but it just comes off a little backwards. but man, the look on his face when she said that made me want to cry. you can see him doubting for a moment, doubting that he was enough for princess rapunzel of corona.

i want to know exactly what went down between him and stalyan. i want to know why they were going to be married, what the circumstances were, and why it fell apart. he clearly didn’t have any genuine feelings for her based on the way he reacted to seeing her, because there wasn’t any guilt to be found there. if he truly cared about her, he’d have felt some guilt for ditching her at the altar! my assumption ( which may or may not turn into headcanon based on the information the series gives us if it gives us more on that whole shebang ) is that it was a way to get closer to the baron’s wealth, or at least the status of thief flynn was aiming for. he may not have planned to follow through with the wedding, but an engagement was a way to get him into that inner circle. whatever he did to her, whether he used her or not, i still fumed when she smacked him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also can we address the fact that eugene fitzherbert was willing to give up his dream, everything he had and made for himself, for lance? lance is really the only family he has, the closest thing he’s ever had to it at least, and it makes total sense that eugene would sacrifice all he has to save him. lance didn’t have to stick around, lance didn’t have to make the attempt to stick to the straight path, but he did and eugene is grateful to have such a dear face who knows all sides of him around. the guilt he must have been wracked with that whole time must have been overwhelming, and it shows in the constant concern he shows whenever lance is near. eugene recognizes that this whole ordeal is his fault, and takes responsibility for it too. so rather than let the person most important to him die, eugene is willing to sign himself up for a lifetime of misery, danger, and loneliness ( he’d miss the life and love he had ). the fact that eugene was able to tell lance that he loved him was just. really special to see and it definitely stuck with me.

on a final note because this has run on waaay too long as it is, it’s never really explained why rapunzel wanted to propose. was it guilt? fear? regret?or did she genuinely want to marry him? it’s a very awkward bit of dialogue, him shutting her proposal down and her dealing with it. usually it’s fairly easy to tell how a character feels through expressions/voice inflections/etc, but rapunzel was a hard read in that moment. obviously eugene still wants to get married, and now we’re sort of set up to believe rapunzel does too, but?? she doesn’t fight him on it, insist it’s what she wants, but she doesn’t look relieved to hear he’s compromising either, despite her saying that she was glad they were on the same page. i just. i want to know what her confusion between saying yes or no was, and how she feels about marrying eugene now.

#𝚒 𝚜𝚘𝚋 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚞𝚐™ 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ( ooc )#episode thoughts

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once-upon-a-ouat · 6 years

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OUAT Rewatch 1x10 “7:15 A.M.”

Okay, I don’t usually do that, but for this episode I feel the uncontrollable need to review it scene-for-scene because I have something to say about every scene and they were all freaking awesome. That will eliminate the need to point out favorite and least favorite scene in this episode, but I’m keeping the favorite and least favorite lines. With that said, let’s dive right in.

The opening scene with August and Henry built up the suspense as to who August is and what he’s doing in Storybrooke and also served as a set-up for two more scenes throughout the episode. I also loved Regina’s worry as to who that might be. First, Emma came to town and started trouble, and now another person just showed up. You could practically see the cogwheels turning in her head.

The weather forecast we heard as background in the next scene informed us about the storm which played a major role later in the episode. Mary Margaret was very funny in her hurry to go out. I loved how quickly she came up with a lie to tell Emma. We know she’s not that type of person and yet, she lied to her closest friend because she herself knew that what she was doing wasn’t right and didn’t want Emma to know about it.

It was quickly revealed why Mary Margaret was in such a hurry. It’s really sad how desperate she was for even the smallest contact with David. And the fact that he was buying two coffees just made it even worse (there goes OUAT with the details once again). It would’ve been plenty horrible on its own, but seeing David walk up to his car, give one to Kathryn and kiss her cheek was just heartbreaking (and I also felt horrible for Kathryn because I know how this is going to end and that she’ll be hurt). Good thing Emma showed up as the voice of reason. I loved how she didn’t judge Mary Margaret, but also firmly and clearly told her that she had to put a stop to that. She’s understanding and supportive and yet, doesn’t let her friend fall even deeper.

Snow looked hella badass with that spear in that next scene. So she didn’t flee the kingdom? Or did she? I’m a little confused. The parallels between the two timelines were cool though. What I’m not a fan of is Snow’s desire to get rid of her feelings in both realms. I know loving someone when you know there’s no way for you to be together hurts, but that doesn’t mean that you have to erase them from your heart. For me that just doesn’t do a favor to their romance and the idea that it’s the greatest romance ever.

Snow and Rumple’s scene was awesome. I loved the way he used her hair to make the potion ‘personal’ because no two loves are exactly the same. That was such a great idea. I also loved how he said that love is the most powerful magic and then made that look horrifying. Given what we know about his personal experience with love, it just became even sadder. Also, now that we know what he used her hair for, this scene is just more brilliant.

Mary Margaret’s shock when she saw the pregnancy test was heartbreaking but I do have a problem with that scene. David’s words in the cabin and his actions on the whole imply that he and Kathryn don’t even have sex. Why did she think she was pregnant? I loved how Regina had only two lines but managed to make a bitch of herself. Also, I loved that she and Kathryn were shopping together. I think this can count as one of the genuine moments of their friendship and I loved it.

The dialogue between George and David was awesome. You can understand where both of them are coming from and sympathize with them both. I honestly couldn’t pick a side in that scene. The implication that George had loved before was very important to me because in many scenes later on in the show he comes off as heartless and it’s nice to have a reminder that that’s not true.

I love how they used the doves as transitions between scenes several times in this episode. The dove is a symbol of love and they used it to show that Snow and David’s love transcended realms and even the Curse. I think it was genius.

I loved how Snow wanted to help the dove so badly. Especially when she learned that it would be alone for the rest of its life if she didn’t get it to its flock. I feel like she was seeing herself in the dove a little bit and that was super weird, but I love how she was determined to help it. It’s just an animal but she did everything in her power to help it. I also loved how she rejected David’s offer to help her. She practically told him “I’m no damsel in distress”.

I loved the scene between Regina and Emma. It once again showed that the one thing that can make them work together is Henry. It was manipulative on Regina’s part though because August’s ‘interest’ in Henry was not the only reason why she wanted to know about him. She thought that she would use the Savior in order to learn about a potential danger to the Curse. It was brilliant.

I love how the dove landed on Snow’s hand while she was holding the vial with the ‘cure’. The joy on her face when she read the letter was so genuine and heartwarming. Damn that show!

Even faced with the very real danger of the storm and the obstacle of the road being closed, Mary Margaret still didn’t give up on her quest to help the dove. The transition between that scene and the next was just fucking awesome!

I love how Snow quickly figured out a way to sneak into George’s castle, but it doesn’t say anything good about the security of said castle. And just when she was about to reveal herself to David, the guard caught her. I really wanted to scream (but it was 2a.m. so that wasn’t an option).

It was adorable to see Snow so determined to break out of the cell and not wanting to give up. Meeting Grumpy was awesome (so he tried to get back with Nova then?). I just loved how this episode kept portraying love as the worst thing ever (sarcasm, if you couldn’t tell). Holy shit! I had completely forgotten about Stealthy. Damn! That’s one of the best twists on the show. I love how Grumpy decided to get Snow out of there too.

David showed up just in time and thank God. He saved Mary Margaret’s life. It kind of sent her not-a-damsel-in-distress attitude to hell though. Even that way, I’m not mad because she could’ve died or gotten seriously injured, seeing how she wanted to keep going even despite the storm.

Stealthy’s death was pretty heartbreaking (mostly because of Grumpy’s anguish but still) even though we didn’t know anything about him really. I loved how Snow was ready to sacrifice herself to save Grumpy even though they didn’t really know each other that well. That’s really admirable about Snow.

Mary Margaret’s little rant was heartbreaking but I really liked the fact that she decided to get all that out in the open. I also liked the fact that she didn’t let David kiss her but not the reason behind it. If she hadn’t seen that pregnancy test, she would’ve given in. Given her turmoil about David choosing Kathryn over her, it just felt like she didn’t have any self-respect.

I don’t really know what to make of the scene between Emma and August. They really built up the tension as to what’s inside the box and then just showed us. Granted, that didn’t make August any less mysterious. I loved how Emma was calculating if it would be better to let him buy her a drink and learn what’s in the box immediately or just leave it be.

Well, that storm turned out to be awfully convenient. Not only did it stop the flock from departing, but it also gave Mary Margaret and David a chance to talk about their feelings and possibly make some more mistakes. I loved how Mary Margaret pulled her hand out of David’s. Honestly, David’s indecisiveness pisses me off so much. If your feelings for Mary Margaret are so real, then just leave Kathryn and be with her. It’s not that difficult, goddammit!

The scene between George and Snow was intense. We once again saw that George was ready to do whatever it took in order to save his kingdom and I liked that. His plan was also very smart although I’m not really that certain if it would’ve worked out the way he imagined it would. I really loved the part with “He’s not my son”. You could see George’s disappointment because if it were actually James, he wouldn’t have betrayed him like that. In this episode, just like in 1x06, it’s easy to understand where George is coming from. You still don’t support his actions but you see the driving force behind them and that helps you empathize with him. That complexity was later lost and I’m really sad about that.

The scene between Snow and David was so awesome but also heartbreaking. I loved the fact that she let him hug her and hold her hands for as long as possible. She wanted to get as much as she could out of that encounter because she thought it would be the last one. I also loved how she couldn’t make herself say “I don’t love you”. She said it but in parts and she actually told him that she loved him (“Love you”). She quickly came up with a reason why she had come all the way to the palace too. And her face when David couldn’t see her anymore just killed me. And David also started crying. My heart! (That was my favorite scene if you couldn’t tell.)

Kathryn was so insanely adorable. You see how much she wants to make it work but also that David’s behavior hurts her. And yet, she didn’t want to be a bitch about it. She was trying to be understanding. And she wanted them to be a family and have kids but she knew that they weren’t ready and didn’t try to rush it. She wanted to get help and fix what wasn’t working. I just love her so much! And I’ll give credit to David for actually trying in this scene (although he threw it to the wind pretty quickly).

The scene between Snow and the dwarfs was very cute. I loved that after all the statements in this episode that love is horrible, we finally got another perspective. Because yes, it is, and it hurts us in the worst way possible, but that makes us who we are. Also, it was sweet of them to offer her a home and their support.

I loved the quiet scene between Mary Margaret and Emma. It showed that Mary Margaret was trying to be strong and that Emma was there for her and supported her. Their relationship was already so strong that they didn’t need words.

They never showed what made David go after Snow and it just came off as random and odd to me. Ruby’s face when David said “I will always find her” tho. She was like “I ship it”.

Seeing that Snow took the potion broke my heart all over again. And just when hope showed on the horizon. In Bulgaria we have a saying that states that no one can do to you what you’ll do to yourself and I think it fits the occasion. Sometimes we’re our own worst enemy. Grumpy’s face at the end of the scene ruined my life.

I guess they really can’t stay away from each other (Ruby’s face during that scene though). What I hated about that scene was that “She’s not pregnant” was the engine for their kiss. So, yeah, it’s okay to lie to her as long as she’s not pregnant. Way to go! I loved the fact that Regina saw them though (and her face). Even walls have ears... or eyes in this case.

Favorite line: “As wretched as it is, I need my pain. It makes me who I am.” - Grumpy to Snow

Least favorite line: “Come on! I helped you when no one else would.” - Snow to Red

That was just manipulative as fuck and I really didn’t appreciate it. I know Snow was desperate but that was just nasty. Just guilt-trip your best friend. That makes sense!

This episode was so amazing. I just don’t know what to say. Every scene did something for the story or the characters. Everything was on point. They managed to establish a clear difference between David’s two personalities. The acting was awesome. The episode was mind-blowing and I was hooked from beginning to end.

P.S. Sorry for the confusing format of this review. I myself see that this doesn’t really work so I’ll stick to my original format and try to avoid another review like this one at all costs. I just really had things I wanted to discuss from every scene and I’m sorry if it’s scattered or confusing.

#ouat rewatch #ouat #once upon a time #season 1 #1x10 #7:15am #operation end

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littlealiengrl09 · 6 years

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TLJ Reylo Review/Analysis

First Force Bond Scene- It's interesting how when the moment starts to build up, Kylo is the first one to sense Rey first. He was being tended to by the medical droids so I think he was definitely thinking of Rey in that moment. It's hard to tell if Rey was actually thinking of Kylo in that moment but it's interesting that Snoke chose this moment to "bridge" them. They're both up early in the day but it's like the "force bond" itself was waiting for Rey to wake up in order to activate. Notice how the sun is peeking in again through the wall when it had previously disappeared all together when Kylo was with Han. So much symbolism.

Kylo is visibly spooked and shaken as he can't seem to stop staring at Rey. That little slide he did when he chased after Rey was adorable. While Rey is freaked about the whole thing, Kylo is deeply fascinated by the force bond. I like how he was like, "Can you see me? I just see you." Feels almost like there's a double meaning behind that. And then when he says, "Don't force project yourself, the effort will kill you.", you can tell how concerned he is for her.

The Rain Force Bond Scene- I feel like this scene was very important because Kylo gets to feel Rey's first time touching the rain. Despite the antagonism going on in Rey's dialogue, this feels like such a pure moment because once again, they're experiencing something completely new TOGETHER. Even when Kylo brings up the previous time that Rey had called him a monster, he speaks to her in a calm, hushed tone as if the rain is centering him.

And you can tell that while it hurts him to hear her call him a monster again, he doesn't deny it. Now that they've experienced the force bond a second time, it's becoming clear to Kylo that it's not just going to go away and that they can't ignore each other and that's why he doesn't lie to her about who he is.

The Shirtless Force Bond Scene- Beneath the light of the moon, Rey is just completely flustered to see Kylo is such a state of undress- she literally prefers not to continue the conversation until he puts something on. lol. Kylo just ignores her request and some people like to think that he's just trying to show off but I think it stems from him wanting her to see the physical and emotional mark she has left on him- to face the truth. Which is why Kylo is so open with her in this scene- bluntly telling her her parents threw her away like garbage and that she searches for parental figures in Han and Luke and then reveals his past to her. He wants her to trust him which is why I think he steps closer to her- he wants to close the distance between them- both physically and emotionally.

Hand Touch Force Bond Scene- There was one article that described this scene very well- the closest to a sex scene Star Wars will ever have. It's all there and it's not even trying to be subtle. Rey is completely soaked but the flesh of her shoulders is peaking out from the blanket in an almost sensual way and there's a fire literally sitting between her and Kylo.

Rey is the first one to reach out and Kylo slowly removes his glove as if hes undressing. And in a way he is- it's probably the first time in a long time he's let anyone see his vulnerable. Both he and Rey are touch starved and they can't help but be drawn to one another in this scene.

Rey may have been the first one to reach out to touch Ben but when it zooms in on their hands, they touch fingers at the exact same time. When the camera pulls back, we see that they are both just so into the moment and each other that they've closed their eyes, shut out the world and are entirely just focused on the fire blazing between them.

Lol Then Luke Cockblocker arrives in a way one of the Capulets/Montagues would've reacted to seeing Romeo and Juliet in such a state. I feel like if TFA was Beauty and the Beast then The Last Jedi is Romeo and Juliet.

Rey Delivers Herself to Ben Scene- Rey doesn't even hesitate to literally launch herself at Kylo. lol I love the Snow White reference and we can tell that when Rey arrives, Kylo was already expecting her. He actually takes a few moments to simply gaze down at her and probably reveling at the fact that he finally has her in person.

Elevator Scene- Rey is clearly stunned that Kylo had the Stormtroopers put handcuffs on her but that doesn't deter her faith in him. The way he looks at her when she calls him Ben. And take note that the elevator they're in is quite big but Rey still invades his space the way Kylo did in the shirtless scene. There's just so much romantic and sexual tension in this scene. They both look at each other with such longing. Just as Rey is certain will return to the light, Kylo knows she will eventually turn and stand at his side. And I think this is the moment Kylo decides he's going to Kill Snoke- the one he believes stand in their way of being together. So we know Kylo and Rey want to be together- they just disagree on how they'll be together. Notice How they're both enveloped by light in this scene.

Throne Room Scene- Kylo looked pissed when Snoke suggested he was the one that created the force bond because I really do believe that Kylo thought that it was something special just between him and Rey. Kylo is noticeably quite stoic in this scene and that's because of the "resolve" Snoke saw in his heart. He was careful to focus his mind on something that would please Snoke and was just waiting for the right moment. Rey's torture definitely pushed Kylo to the edge but when Snoke makes Rey kneel before Kylo, he rejects that she is inferior to him in a sense and it's clear that there is no choice to make because he always going to choose Rey.

When Kylo and Rey fight together, it's so incredible. The way Rey stares at Kylo when he kills Snoke and then when they fight back to back. That thigh grab! First Kylo got all touchy with Rey when he put his hand on her back to lead her out of the elevator now Rey goes in for a thigh grab/brush! I love how Kylo is still watching over Rey closely despite fighting off three guards at once. And I just loved the moment Rey tossed her lightsaber as Kylo was being choked. The way he looks at her right then and there as if she's his queen.

Kylo goes on to propose to Rey with fire falling all around the dark room and makes Rey finally face the truth- he parents were nobody who sold her drinking money. She was nothing to her parents and she comes from parentage of nobodies...she's nothing....but not to Kylo. He practically said he loves her and Rey's astonishment is beautiful and heartbreaking. Finally someone wants her and chooses her. And while I'm sure she was tempted by Kylo's offer, I'm glad she turned him down. When they fight for the lightsaber and it breaks, I feel like that was the force acting once again to intervene. The Force doesn't want them to fight but to stand together.

Crait Scenes- Right after Kylo goes completely nuts and orders every gun to be fired at Luke, he actually has to take a moment to sit down. He's operating under so much stress at the moment- he just killed his dad, he's in danger of being caught committing treason and had his heart rejected by his soulmate. Then later on, we find out the force bond is still very much alive between them, offering hope that Kylo and Rey are not going to be able to shake each other off so easily. The dice disappear from his hand the moment Rey shuts Kylo out- the last thing he had of his father and the last piece of Rey (seeing as she takes the Falcon).

For people that think Reylo is over, it's just beginning. Kylo finally got a taste of someone just as lonely as him and he's going to fight to keep his connection with Rey. He has a lot of shit to make up for but I have hope that Ben Solo will return.

#reylo #force bond #anaylsis #the last jedi #reylo johnson #villain/heroine #otp #canon #tlj review #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #romeo and juliet

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mermaidsirennikita · 7 years

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Victoria Season 2 Review

First off: I will be watching Victoria still, I do enjoy the show, I don’t think it’s the worst thing that’s on TV (I prefer it to Downton, that’s for sure) I just don’t (and have never) consider it like... High Quality Television. I have realistic expectations for this show, and I think that by having those expectations, it’s easier for me to enjoy it.

But I think it’s important to note that season 2 was a downturn in quality.

I can’t say that I didn’t expect this in a sense, because season 1 was written with the possibility of it being a miniseries in mind and thus was very contained. It had an overarching main plot that was very simple: Victoria’s first years on the throne, Victoria moving from girl to woman, her first crush on Melbourne, her falling in love with Albert and being ~sexually awakened~. The pitch we as an audience were given for season 2 was more vague: Victoria struggles to balance work with family. (”Work”.) Never mind that you could really just use that as a theme for her entire married life. It wasn’t very solid, and the season showed that.

It was all over the place. The first episode--fine. The next two--taken up in part by a Melbourne plot meant to bait, definitely going to end with him being written off despite the fact that he had a nice, enclosed storyline with a pretty lovely ending all things considered in season 1. Episodes 4 and 5 were good, if taken up by a plot that had no root in history--but that’s ok, as long as it’s giving drama and serving your characters. Then episode 6 goes off on a rather bizarre rewriting of history to make Victoria some heroine of the Irish Famine when in reality she’s known for disliking the Irish, stopping further financial aid to the country, and is actually called by some the Famine Queen to this day. This episode had literally no bearing on any other part of the plot, unless you count the hinting towards Peel’s fall and Victoria and Peel becoming vague friends which is supposed to make us sadder about his departure in the finale. Episode 7 was good, but aside from the forward motion in a doomed romantic subplot that would only end up being offensive... It was basically a bottle-y Scotland breather episode. Which, fine, Victoria and Albert loved Scotland in real life too and it was a major part of their life together, and indeed that’s impacted the monarchy today. But then we get to the finale, and there are plots that suddenly have to be Everything, and the finale wasn’t bad but it wasn’t as good as it could have been had Daisy Goodwin had a better handle on what she was doing.

I’ll address the elephant in the room first: I always knew that Drummond and Alfred’s storyline would end badly. I knew that it would be offensive; it was always going to with “bury your gays”. I can tell you why they chose to make these characters gay (or bi, we really don’t know). Drummond was going to die, and Daisy had that out even though the timeline is so off that it isn’t an out. And Alfred had a minor scene in season 1 wherein he was foppish and cute and had a dog that curtsied and I can almost guarantee you that Daisy Goodwin associated that little dandy moment with “gay” and threw him into that storyline for that reason. (After all, in real life he was married with thirteen children and no known romantic entanglements with men.) What we got was sweet, but I’ll also point out as I have before that it was the bare minimum. We barely got to see them discuss their relationship, and when they did it was never *really* as a relationship at all, was it? It was vague and “subtle” and just not-present enough for ITV to feel okay about it, especially if one was going to die in the end.

Daisy Goodwin did this for the same reason that she has all of those fake feminist moments for Victoria. She’s patting herself on the back.

This storyline was offensive all around, as good as the actors were--and I have no idea if it’s even going to affect anything in the future. One actor brought up the possibility of Wilhelmina being with Alfred, which, like... I don’t know. He could be bi. Some dialogue made me think otherwise. But do we really want to watch Wilhelmina be a consolation prize? Alfred being bi wouldn’t invalidate his love for Drummond, of course, but there’s just a “why did you do it in the first place” about the storyline.

Then there’s Lehzengate. This was a hugely important moment in Victoria’s young life, and what I saw was... fine. It just wasn’t as dramatic as it should have been. Albert essentially telling Victoria to choose between him and Lehzen is pretty much historically accurate. But for God’s sake, the whole thing was done with such a whimper versus a bang. Victoria barely fired her. Lehzen left with a smile (in real life, Victoria essentially forgot about her after a time). The show never delved into the toxicity of Lehzen’s relationship with Victoria--an enabling relationship that consisted of Lehzen being sycophantic and rarely critiquing Victoria, allowing for little growth. She did put a wedge between Victoria and her mother that Albert found disconcerting in real life. Melbourne thought that Lehzen was a bad influence on Victoria and agreed with Albert on the fact that she needed to go. We’ve barely seen Lehzen over the course of the second season, and the show should have built up her incompetency as a governess, the enmity between Lehzen and Albert. She resented him taking her place, essentially--and y’all, I’m sorry, this is weird. If your partner is male or female, it doesn’t matter; you do need to put your relationship with your partner first, and someone intentionally trying to sabotage your relationship is ODD. If this show had built up the conflict between Lehzen, Albert, and Victoria from 2x01, this climax would have been very affecting. As it is--it’s okay. Not offensive, but not as dramatic as it should have been.

The thing is that a lot of this is fucked up by the timeline. Lehzen got fired shortly after Bertie was born, before Alice came into the picture. The show skipped over incredibly long amounts of time with little explanation--at the end of ep 5, Victoria is newly pregnant. In ep 6, she suddenly brings out a baby that doesn’t appear to be a newborn. (Also, Vicky looks way too old--the age gap between her and Alice was like, three years.) Leopold makes a comment about how he missed Albert’s birthday--like, which one? Bertie was born in ep 4, Alice was born between 5 and 6, it seems like years have passed since ep 4 so.. Historical shows often fuck up timelines, but the reason why they’ve fucked up the timelines here is... nonexistent.

Daisy Goodwin needs to figure out what she wants this show to be. I don’t expect accuracy, but I do expect some level of consistency in the writing. When this show is good, it’s very fun. But when the cracks show--they’re glaring.

#victoria itv #itv victoria

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once-upon-a-january · 6 years

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“So I watched the Frozen short, and I have a few notes:

Elsa’s winter dress is really really pretty.

The first song wasn’t that bad. Anna’s voice sounded weird at some parts, but Kristen Bell and Idina Menzel have really nice harmony.

“The surprise is that everyone left.” “You’re a princess, you don’t have to settle.” When did Olaf become such a fucking savage????

Jonathan Groff’s high notes were heart-melting; definitely need to hear him sing a proper song in Frozen 2.

Yeah, I’m not buying the whole “our family never got to have a tradition because of me” thing. Elsa was what, 8 years old, before her parents felt the need to lock her away and close the gates????? You mean to tell me that in those 8 years, they never exposed Elsa to a single family Christmas tradition after ringing the bell that she could remember???? So they just did nothing for Christmas for those 8 years???????????? I don’t think so.

In addition, Elsa says that after they locked the gates, “we were never together.” Is she just referring to herself and Anna, or is she talking about the whole family? Because if she’s talking about the whole family, then that raises a huge amount of questions. Does that mean the K&Q never did anything with Anna ever? How did Anna still manage to build what seemed like a loving relationship with them despite this fact? Did Anna dine alone and chill in the castle alone? How did the K&Q explain to Anna every year why they never celebrated anything: no birthdays, no Christmas, no other holidays????? Who raised Anna if her parents weren’t spending any time with her??????????????

Alright, I’m gonna go off on a bit of a tangent here. I have been suffering depression and low self-esteem for 6 years now, and while I’m starting to get a little bit better, I still struggle with emotional management. So I understand that healing from depression is not a one day process, and that it makes sense for Elsa to still be internally struggling with her past and her role in it. However, this repetitive self-blame slightly irks me. When will Disney let Elsa realize that her past was not actually her fault? When will they let her actually acknowledge that her parents, as good as their intentions were, really fucked up her childhood and her psychological development? Are we going to watch Elsa go through every holiday for the first time and blame herself every time for having “ruined” said holiday, when in reality, she did not? Elsa’s childhood was very complex, and requires a lot of reflection for her emotional growth. Unfortunately, it seems that Disney has refused to give us depth in this issue, so we might never get to see Elsa properly acknowledge what happened to her. Ughhh.

Some of these dialogue-to-song transitions are just.......no.

There is literally no need or reason for Elsa to keep shutting doors on Anna. They have (or were supposed to have) already grown past this, as evidenced by the end of Frozen and Frozen Fever. It felt like Disney threw the whole “door in the face” just as a callback to the first film. If Disney felt the need to reference it, they should have done it in a more sensible way.

“Tell us about your traditions and we’ll decide if it’s special enough”. Ouch.

I love Kristoff as much as the next person, but there are times where I do wonder if his character was actually necessary in the Frozen franchise. The focus of every Frozen media seems to be on the sisterly relationship between Elsa and Anna, and Kristoff gets sidelined so hard in these shorts as a result. I personally feel like Anna did not need to end Frozen with a boyfriend; the focus on her and her sister was ample enough. So yeah, Kristoff is funny and handsome and sweet, but like, his character feels a little pointless sometimes. He lacks story and background, and it seems that he’s just there to be Anna’s “true love” and nothing more. Please give him a little bit more of his own development and motivations (independent of Anna!) in Frozen 2.

Overall, the short was sweet and cute, and very aesthetically pleasing, but it’s not a very memorable short. I felt very underwhelmed when it was over, and I don’t think it’s something I’ll watch twice. And it definitely did not need to be the length that it was. Disney really should let this franchise rest properly; don’t want to kill the hype for Frozen 2 before it comes.

#olaf's frozen adventure #frozen #Kristoff #Elsa #anna #olaf

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ladyemberswrites · 7 years

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Vested Interest_Chapter I

Title: Vested interest

Pairing: Aluseras( Alucard x Seras)

Fandom: Hellsing/Hellsing Ultimate

Warnings: Blatant Alcoholism

Chapters: 1/?

Summary:

Seras has feelings for Alucard, and so does he, however, to Seras, she knows her master better than anyone and knows how he can be and what he is capable of and is completely unsure of her former master intentions or the length of his apparent devotion, and accompanied by an ever changing world, old allies dead, as new ones rise, she wonders if she will be able to pull through, as well as be able to maintain a romantic relationship with her former master.

*I’m reposting this fic on my blog again*

Edit: Nothing major, I just wanted to fix a few things, and spelling errors, and give this first chapter a little bit more meat, such as adding and changing dialogue.

A/N: This is a serious canon-divergence and is a part of an Au; I’m creating, so this is kind of the first part. This takes place 500 hundred years, after Integra’s death, just to let everyone else, I hope I didn’t confuse anyone.

Comments, Reviews, Criticisms are all welcomed!!!!!

Tell me what you guys think!

“Have you changed your mind, yet?”

Seras huffs, before chugging down a significant amount of ice, cold beer and contemplated whether or not to drink until she was too plastered to stand. She couldn’t do this now or more like she didn’t want to deal this now, it was childish of her, she knew, it wasn’t like high school, where she could forge a make up a doctor’s note to skip out on gym- she was adult now, and being adult meant being mature, even when you desperately, desperately don’t want to, but! But! - UGH!

Can’t she just slam her face on the table! This was an entirely different situation, and it wasn’t like she could fake an illness to get out of it either, seeing that she came here out of her own accord.

She just didn’t know what to do. Her heart said one thing, while the more reasonable, sane, logical side of her brain completely argued against her acting on impulsive emotions.

“If you were human you probably would’ve damned your liver right about now.”

She finally removed the glass from her lips, placing it delicately upon the bar table with a click.

She looked at him this time for the first time since they’ve been here.

Here, being a bar, a bar named Igor’s, promptly named after the owner Igor, who was just as ancient as her former Master, except for the fact that he was of the Lycan variety, and except for the fact he did appear worn down by age, from the hard wrinkles under his eyes, the rigid scar that tore through his left eye sealing it shut and a strip of flesh ripped from the right side of his face, giving a grotesque view of red gums, and his sharp, pearly white canines.

He was quiet, a type of no nonsense man, a very large man who only responded in gruff, grunts and growls, and stood a good two feet above her master. And speaking of her master, Igor wasn’t his biggest fan and wasn’t afraid to show it, since he busted up his bar in some petty fight a couple of years back. Breaking hundreds of bottles of expensive liquor and countless damages in infrastructure. Surprisingly, enough her master paid for the damages with 70% interest drawn from one of his, probably many treasuries that he has hidden all over eastern Europe. He was a king before; at least she hopes that’s where his money is coming from, either way she really didn’t wanna know.

And grudgingly and beyond her comprehension, he let her master come back, he still didn’t like him (she doubted that Igor was a very forgiving man) but, Alucard left generous tips, so he left it at that. From what she could tell her master seemed quite fond of the little bar.

It was small, cozy even and surprisingly, sit -spot clean and she also suspects what honestly, caught master attention the most was that it was pretty quiet, never too crowded most of the time and was simplistic in design. For Seras she could almost call it home, she found the place soothing to be in, many times she found herself here on raining days, lounging about and reading one of the many novels she “stole” from her Master endless library. Not to mention Igor served more than booze and had an array of coffee and teas, much to her pleasure.

But she was getting off track here, trying to avoid the topic at hand.

From the looks of it he hadn’t moved his gaze from her not once, and it unnerved her to no end, as he peered at her with half-lidded eyes and a passive gaze, which perturbed her more because of the ridiculous beard. He appeared so different……..with that thing on his face, and she desperately hid the urge to want shave it off his smug face.

“Being inhuman certainly has it perks; I don’t have to worry about liver failure.”

“That still doesn’t make you any less of an alcoholic, Master. That’s your fifth glass of scotch, and we’ve only been here 30 minutes.” she nodded towards the shot glass in his left hand, while the other supported his chin. He was also, startlingly, dressed casual, a white dress shirt and black slacks, it was a breather, to actually see him in normal clothing, and not any of his tone deaf attire that he is, so fond of wearing, the pimp hat, the 80s trench coat, well at least he didn’t really wear those anymore not since Integra’s passing, anyways, she thought solemnly.

“I don’t get as drunk easily as you, my dear.”

She stuck her tongue at him, mainly because he was right, one beer was usually enough to have her slurring her words and giggling like a lune, but she’d be darned if she admitted that to him.

“And I’m not an alcoholic.”

“Uh-huh.”

There was a moment of stillness, the delay of the inevitable, so to speak.

Seras mind was running amok, she only came here on a whim, when her master, former master, she should say had called her out of the blue, and asked her to meet him here.

She should’ve said that he was bonkers for calling her out here at three in the morning, and hung up, because after a long, stress inducing day of work, from listening to one person after, another complain to her about whatever, to settling disputes that almost turned violent if she hadn’t intervene between councils members, comforting others, and dealing with screaming children, she had quite enough dealing with other people’s emotional turmoil, and drama. All wanted for her weekend off, was a cup of hot coco, her soft pjs, and array of rom coms to compensate for the lack of a love life, was that too much to ask for.

But, she didn’t-

However, the quietness continue with the couple, occasionally sipping on their respective beverages, as they listened to the news which was currently splayed upon the small television that sat at, well more like hung at an angle over the bar, it was cracked and had many wires sticking out of it, but apparently it’s been working for years, seeing that not once did it short circuit, since they’ve been coming here.

Seras, barely paid attention, one thing that about being a vampire these days is that human politics have no effect on her anymore, well somewhat if you count recent events, and second, British politics or anything involving politics is endless hell, you better off with setting your own self on fire, then trying to reason with other people, and lucky she didn’t have the responsibility concern herself with it, unless Hellsing was involved in any case, but human-vampire relations was something else entirely.

Alucard listened more closely, yet remained apathetic, it was all Greek to him, voting, elections, parliament, electoral colleges, primaries, it was all nonsense, it didn’t make any sense to him, leave it to humans to make everything more complicated than it needs to be. Everything was better when the world adhered to monarchies and systems, everyone had a place and duty, and none one didn’t question things, like the good old day.

“Y’know in retrospect, it makes our jobs a whole lot harder doesn’t it?” someone had to cut the ice, she supposed, but could herself laughing bit too nervously.

His attention snapped back to reality or to the woman before him. She abruptly went silent, her gaze met his from brief moment, brows raised and her fingers tinkering with her locket that hung from her neck and rested at the valley of amble chest.

“Seras?” She quickly fixed her attention back on her locket, he threw his head back, and took a long, burning swig from his drink - it was now or never, he didn’t call her down her here at 3 in the morning to discuss politics.

“Why?” she murmurs, at bit pitifully, her brows scrunched together tightly, her lips pursed, her shoulders raised in apprehension “I mean-” she huffs at her.

He knew that look, she was thinking, trying to pick and choose her words, so he gave her, her space which was alright with him as it gave him extra time to just - look at her.

She was wearing a short, black dress, which modestly reached her knees, the prude,

And had long sleeves.

Her lips and nails were painted a bright crimson, as he observe them tapping ceaselessly upon her golden locket and her hair was left untouched as it rolled down towards her waist in a heap of curls. After, what, he honestly, couldn’t remember, she stopped cutting her hair and just let it take a course of her own, he didn’t know about her, but to him it was the best decision she ever made. He liked how soft it looked, how it framed her face, how it made her look mature, like the master vampire she’s supposed to be. However, despite this, her expression was sullen; her red lips were twisted in a long frown, as she watched the drips of water slid down her glass.

“Um-Master, how long have we’ve known each other?” she voice started off low.

“ Since the day I put a bullet through you, why?” he was a bit taken back, out of all the ways he predicted this conversation to go, this wasn’t one of them

Her sapphire gaze snaps in his direction “I’m being serious!”

“Alright, Alright, a couple of centuries.” he narrowed his eyes “and May I ask why that matters?”

“Remember, back when I told you how I felt, about how I was in love with you and you rejected Me.” it was more matter of fact than anything. She wasn’t upset, well maybe not too upset, because she knew the answer beforehand. She knew he would reject her, and it hurt, but not as bad as it would have been if she entertained the fantasy of him actually being in love with her. She had feelings, but she was also no fool. But, now, so many decades later-

“…..Yes.” he winced that wasn’t his most shining hour in his opinion, and there were plenty of them.

“Yet, after all this time, you love me, now. Why?”

She gazed back at him, her sapphire eyes filled with confusion.

He didn’t break contact; he hoped all that liquor he drank would give him the confidence to speak his mind, without hinges, without being vague about his emotions.

“Let’s just say, the past few years, I’ve had a couple of eye openers.”

“Are you talking about “her”?”

“Sort of off, but not quite.” she had an odd look in her eye, wide, and in some sort of disbelief, until it dawned on him “and no, I’m not chasing after, you because my other relationship went up in flames, so speak, and trust me I’m not crawling back to her, ever, hell would have to freeze over before that happens.”

“A-are you sure?” she scrutinized him, eyes narrowed, her nose wrinkling, a quirk of hers every time she seemed to be contemplating something.

“Yes, Seras. She is out my picture book forever, trust me, a pit of vipers would be more welcoming than ever sharing her bed again.”

“B-but?”

“But?” he waited for her to continue.”

“But, that doesn’t explain, why you-you love me now.”

“Seras, I have long since stopped viewing you as just my loyal servant. You’re -you’re more to me than just that, over the years you been my partner, my companion, someone that I could trust.”

“It doesn’t seem like that all the time. “She whispers.

“I know. But, that was because of my own hubris than anything. It was nothing you did, my dear.”

She smiles, softly at that, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, shyly.

“So, am I more to you now?”

“You are mistaken on that part.”

“How, so.”

“I’ve had…. feelings for you four quite some time.”

“Y-you have?” she should be ecstatic, yet caution was the only thing blaring through her thoughts. She knew her master and knew him well, both the good and the bad, well more bad than good. “Even, when you were with-”

“Yes. Look, Seras, I know our relationship hasn’t been-” he was looking for a word that didn’t come as harsh.

“The best.” she adds in, a little too quickly.

“I was thinking a bit dysfunctional lately, but I guess “not the best” sounds….better put. But anyways, what I - what I’m trying to say is that I’m interested in courting you.”

Courting was such an odd word then again using the word dating, when referring to herself and Alucard was even stranger.

“Seras?”

“Huh-yes.”

“Will you?”

“Will I what?

“Will you let me court you?”

“Master, I-”

“Vlad.”

“What?

“That is my birth name. I want you to call me by it from now on.” he raised, a cautious hand, a bare hand, relieved of his gloves, to push a strand of golden hair behind her ear, gently brushing his knuckles against her cheek.

Seras bit her lip, what was she to say? What should she do? She felt the beer she drank desperately, wanting to make an encore.

“Mas-Vlad, I -I don’t know.” she murmurs, peering down at her locket, again, twirling it between her slender fingers.

“Why?” he had to stop himself from saying more, before he starts sounding desperate. He will not be one of those “men”.

“What you said before about people changing.”

“Yes, what about?”

“It’s just that-just -I mean- Vlad, sometimes……sometimes….. People don’t change. Especially, people like you.”

“What’s that supposed to me?” He should have taken offense to that, but the stinging pain of hurt was the only feeling that was consuming him at the moment.

“I know what you are. I’m not blind. Please, don’t look at me like that, I’m not saying that to hurt you, trust me.

I love you, I really, really do. Sure I can deal with all your bizarre idiosyncrasies, but that was only because our relationship was- well was master and servant, I could live with that then. But, now, now I don’t know if I can. Your impulsive, rude, I can never anticipated your moods sometimes, your fickle when you want to be, not to mention cruel and bloodthirsty. How do I know you’re going to be committed, and not just one day get up and leave without so much as a single word? How do I know this isn’t all a game to you? How do I know that you truly want to love me and be my equal, if you keep shutting me out all the time or pushing me away when you don’t feel like being bothered? “She paused a moment, looking him dead in the eye to make sure she got the point across.

“I-I can’t do this, I can’t be with you, if you’re going to act that way. I can’t.” she didn’t want to cry, she told herself, lectured herself not to cry, but the tears involuntary came forth, warm, as well as unwelcoming, burned a pathway down her face.

He was stunned silent for a while he didn’t know what to say, his mouth felt uncomfortably dry, like his mouth was filled with sad, but it did stop him from wiping her tears away with the side of his thumb.

“Seras? Seras look at me.” he lowers his voice, to attract her attention. She wiped her nose and face with the back of her hand, sniffling as, she tried to gain the courage to look at him.

“Y-yeah.”

“You speak the truth, people don’t change, especially people such as I, we never do nor ever will, but for your sake I’ll do anything you wish of me, I promise you that at least.

I know I’m more monster than man, and I can never be what you truly deserve, but I can do what I can, if you’d be mine.” he sounded, so sincere, so sincere that she couldn’t bare it anymore, and the impulsive need to wrap her arms tightly around his neck and kiss him senseless was overpowering and that’s why she needed to leave. To leave, so she could think rationally and thoroughly.

“Vlad. Vlad can you give me some time to think about?”

“Of course, I don’t want to pressure you. Take your time.”

“Vlad.”

“Hhhmmm.”

“Thank you.” she couldn’t help herself, but she threw her arms around him, placing her face in the crux of his neck, nuzzling his shoulder. “Thank you.” she whispers.

He pats the top of her head, feeling slightly awkward by the sudden intimacy.

It took a few good moments for her to let go “Um, I have work soon, so I better get some sleep.”

“Ah, right. Do you want me to accompany you home?”

She shakes her head “That’s alright I want to walk by myself tonight, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you sure.”

She nods her head in affirmation, slowly sliding off her seat, to leave, however, another wave - call it a need or maybe want, but whatever it was made her lean over and press her lips to his. It was chaste and he certainly wasn’t expecting it, but he returned it with fervor, pulling her closer and gently biting bottom lip, as she held onto his shirt for dear life. He wanted more, he wanted her, yearned for her taste and her touch, her scent alone, smelling of sweet vanilla, drove him mad, but in the most delightful ways, he wanted to continue, but was suddenly interrupted, by loud grunt. Seras immediately pulled away from him, her cheeks flushed, and bottom lip swollen and her hair in slight disarray, she looked absolutely tempting - but the dirty look Igor gave him kept him doing anything further.

“Sorry, about that.” Seras smiles apologetically to the old bartender. He only tips his head in acknowledgement, quickly turning back to washing glasses.

She glances back him a shy expression lightens her face “Good night, Vlad.”

“Good night, Seras.”

“ Alright, see you later.” she waves, as she particularly skips out the front door, her heels clacking against the wooden floors, the bell up to the entrance signaling her departure. He sighs as leans back, having zero intention of leaving anytime soon.

He jiggles his empty cup devoid of anything, but halfway melted ice.

“Do you have anything stronger than Vodka?”

“Mmmmmhh.” Igor responded, completely disinterested.

“I’m very sure that you can actually talk.”

Igor grunted, turning from his finished task to stare at the other man, he glances down at the no-life king’s empty glass, back up to him, glaring.

“What!?…. Trust me I haven’t had my fill of alcohol; he didn’t want this man to break up his bar again due to being in a drunken stupor.

Igor shakes his head, arms crossed, clearly exasperated. He hated it when customers’ abuse their drinking privileges, and it pissed off even more, because was one that had to clean it all up, after closing.

“I’ll pay extra; I’ll even buy you a brand new television set.”

Didn’t this man have anything else better to do than, spend his nights indulging in alcoholism? Igor, sighs beside himself, well, whatever, it was his life that his was drinking away, not his, beside brand new television did sound pleasing, he was getting of watching his soap operas on a cracked scene, anyways, and maybe his regulars will stop complaining about how small his t.v set is.

Without another word, he traveled to the back to pick out a bottle of Everclear, which just came in this afternoon, maybe this will shut the lunatic up.

Alucard was curious when the Werewolf reappeared again with a large silver bottle of clear liquid, and handed it to him, practically shoving it in his arms.

The master vampire spinned it around, it was room temperature “ Everclear” he twisted it around once again to read the table of contents on the back with a raised eyebrow “ colorless, flavorless, 95 % concentrated Alcohol” he whistle at that.

He glance back at the bartender, he just shrugged in response and continued about his work.

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to leave this bar sober, hopefully.

TBC

Edit: Nothing major, I just wanted to fix a few things, and spelling errors, and give this first chapter a little bit more meat, such as adding and changing dialogue.

Like for the instance, the part where Seras assumes Alucard has treasuries hidden all over Western Europe,I didn’t think much about that line, until now, realizing that Alucard is Romanian, which is in Eastern Europe, so he would have secret stashes hidden all over Eastern Europe, not Western.

A/N: Is this chapter a bit too sappy, I don’t know maybe. I’m just wanted to write a Aluseras fic, where alucard doesn’t act like a grade A- A-hole with no redeemable qualities and for absolutely no reason, which I see an abundance of in a lot of fan fictions concerning this couple, note that I have nothing against anyone who does write these kind of fics, nothing personal, just not my cup of tea.

Anyways, can you believe it took me a whole day to write this, not to mention on a horribly upset stomach, ugh, it was the only way to keep me distracted from the pain.

Well, that’s it for now, Comments are always welcomed.

@deyity @kyoandyuya @these-three-peeps

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margotgentrywrites · 4 years

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third and fourth chances 2

Ai Xue made her way up the final set of stairs to the sixteenth floor and nearly collapsed on the landing. She clutched at her chest, gasping for air, only to feel the lanyard with her company badge, and a fresh wave of self-recrimination came over her.

“I forgot my badge?” she wondered aloud. “I could’ve said anything else! It was obvious I had my badge on! I’m such an idiot. Stupid, stupid, stupid -”

The door to the stairwell creaked open and she shut up immediately, smiling painfully at the other employee, who smiled back uncertainly, then made his way past her down the stairs. Xue used the forced calm to try and pull herself together, but the sound of receding footsteps she was waiting for didn’t come. Instead, there was the noise of someone clearing his throat and Xue closed her eyes, steeling herself, before she turned around.

“Yes?” she asked.

“You’re the intern for this floor, right?” the man asked and Xue nodded stiffly.

“That’s right -”

The man cut her short. “Good. Someone is looking for you. Apparently the intern for Headquarters called in sick today. They’re shorthanded and someone said for you to report immediately.”

“They must need a lot of coffee cups washed,” Xue muttered to herself, forgetting she was in a stairwell and the sound carried very well. Xue’s eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

The man furrowed his brow and Xue suddenly found herself bowing and apologizing for the second time that morning. The man shrugged, shaking his head some, and then continued down the stairs. Xue watched him go for a moment, then hit a fist against her forehead a couple of times before she turned, yanked open the door, and entered her floor. The higher-ups may have made the request to have her temporarily transferred, but if she didn’t check in for work at her usual floor first, she’d be breaking protocol.

The choice was easy and yet not at all, because Headquarters...that was where her prince dwelled. It was the place she’d been longing to break into since she first interviewed here. She half wanted to race back out and into the stairwell, certain that despite her current lack of oxygen, she could fly there without a problem.

And yet there was a routine here. There was a common mundanity to the tasks laid out and how different could Headquarters be? Perhaps it was more bustling, or more somber, or more black, or more white. Perhaps the coffee was a higher quality, or the paper weight more sturdy, or the carpet a better pile. But the job would be the same, and that was no reason to embarrass her supervisor by skipping protocol and leaving straight for the twentieth floor.

Or at least, that was what she told herself before walking onto the floor, only to have the woman at the front desk turn and stare at her. “What are you doing here?” she snapped and Ai Xue stopped short.

“Reporting for work?” she responded, both her uncertainty and current shortness of breath contributing to the questioning tone of her voice. Ordinarily she tried to never appear unsure of herself at a job, but she decided to cut herself some slack under the circumstances. It was clearly not going to be a usual day at the office - a little uncertainty was warranted at this point.

“Yes, in the CEO’s offices. Not here. Didn’t you get the email this morning?”

Ai Xue looked at her with polite interest for a moment, then shook her head.

“The text messages?”

Another shake of the head.

“Voicemail - oh, never mind. Just turn around and get up there. No, on second thought, take the elevator. It’ll be faster. And check your phone! I explained everything already. Shoo, shoo, shoo!”

Ai Xue accepted the scolding and advice with a short bow, then turned and walked out the main doors of the floor to the bank of elevators outside. She started to check her pockets for her phone, then began to dig in her bag. She was still looking as she entered an open elevator and as the doors closed and the unit began its ascent to the twentieth floor, she realized she was staring at the bottom of her purse.

Great. She’d forgotten her phone and now had no way of knowing what was going on, aside from the fact that she was supposedly replacing a sick intern for the day...replacing a sick intern on the twentieth floor, headquarters of Heaven’s Gate, and domain of the young prince.

Ai Xue felt her breath coming fast and fought hard to even it out.

“Get it together, Xue,” she whispered to herself. She looked down at her feet, slender and strong in a pretty, leather pair of heels, up to her practical, but stylish khaki skirt with pockets, to her sailing-stripes shirt layered under the beautiful, hand felted, charcoal grey jacket Lin Wei had made her for her birthday two years ago. She lifted a hand and felt at her chunky blunt cut, pulled back slightly at the nape of her neck, brushed a hand across her brow at the feathered bangs, and straightened her shoulders.

She was, if not beautiful, at least passingly pretty. She carried herself well and knew how to dress well, but comfortably, for a job - unlike so many of the women who looked as if they’d walked off a runway to work. And most importantly, she had two degrees that declared her mastery of this skill set and her competence in the field. She might not be twenty-two and starry-eyed, but she was smart, capable, and in this instance, willing, and that had to matter.

“There’s nothing to fear, but fear itself,” she murmured to herself as the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. “You might only have this one chance. Make the most of it.”

She stepped out of the elevator and glanced around, curious to see what the fuss was about over the young dragon’s lair. People were bustling to and fro in an almost constant stream, but she noticed right away that the atmosphere was...reserved. No one spoke loudly, or even in normal tones of voice. It was all quiet dialogue, only when necessary. Otherwise they seemed to communicate by bending their heads together over their phones, tablets, or folders of papers.

Ai Xue moved a little further into the space and had just identified the front desk when someone stopped her. She looked at the man questioningly and he smiled.

“You must be the replacement. Thank God you’re here. Listen, can you fix a coffee machine?”

Ai Xue didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

___________________________________

“Jia Ji, if you bother me about that contract one more time -”

“Yu Hai. Please be reasonable. There is no way you can accept their proposal! You already caved once to their demands -”

“We ensure appropriate union representation for a reason, Jia Ji. Just because you’re older and helped raise me doesn’t mean I won’t kick you out of this office if you keep pestering me.”

The older man suddenly threw his head back and laughed aloud. “Fine, fine. You want to protect the company and brand overseas. I understand. But can’t you at least negotiate?”

Yu Hai gave the older man a small smile before turning back to the project on his desk. “Who has time for negotiations?”

Yun Jia Ji sighed. “Oh, let’s see, who has time...hmm, that would be me! I have time to negotiate. All you have to do is review and sign the final contract.”

Yu Hai was eager to get back to his work and he knew his COO was well aware of it. He waved a hand. “Fine. Negotiate. But I’m docking your pay if it comes back to us.”

“You’re a punk,” the older man grumbled good naturedly before he turned to leave the office. He stopped short and looked back.

“By the way, I understand my daughter is coming to dinner with you later?”

Yu Hai nodded his agreement, his eyes never leaving the work on his desk.

“Good, good. I won’t intrude on you two, don’t worry about that.”

“I wouldn’t have insisted we eat here if I’d thought of that,” Yu Hai responded dryly and Yun Jia Ji laughed again.

“All right. Listen, don’t forget to take a break soon. Too much of those computers for too long is terrible for your eyesight.”

“If I minded it, I wouldn’t have made this my career,” Yu Hai shot back, much to Yun’s surprise. The young CEO must be in fine fettle, to make two rejoinders in less than a minute. He was usually so close-mouthed it was all Yun Jia Ji could do to elicit a grunt of agreement from him. He smiled slightly, bemused, and lifted his hands in surrender.

“Of course, of course. All right. I’m leaving.”

Yu Hai didn’t respond and Yun Jia Ji pushed the doors of the office open only to startle a young woman who stood there, holding a tray with tea and some refreshments.

“Ah, allow me,” he said, reaching back and holding the door open. “Just leave it anywhere. He’ll take it when he’s ready.”

The woman nodded and Yun Jia Ji closed the door after her before heading down the hall towards his own office, a folder of paperwork and contract negotiations clutched tightly in his hands.

____________________________________

Ai Xue blinked as she glanced around the room. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting, certainly. So many of the other offices in the building had been decorated in dark woods, with red hues across the fabric selections, or black and grey with deep golds. But this one...it was like walking into a cocoon of serenity. The walls were painted a soothing, pale violet and the furniture was all warm greys and white-washed oak. The brightest spots of color in the office were the silver and white cushions, and a lamp or two with brass fixtures. Her eyes darted from one end of the room to the other as she moved forward to the low coffee table between a sofa and two armchairs, which were surrounded on two walls by bookshelves. Just a few yards away the CEO’s desk was placed on a dais, with a view to the seating area.

She risked a glance in his direction as she carefully set the tray down, trying to make as little noise as possible. He seemed engrossed in whatever it was he was working on and she allowed her eyes to absorb the image of him at his desk a little longer. Who knew when or if she’d ever get the chance to be so close to him again? And if that chance only arrived with her ability to fix a coffee machine, well. So be it.

He reached for a book that was sitting to one side of his desk and Ai Xue couldn’t help reading the title from the front cover as he immersed himself in it. Realizing it was a Western style novel was startling enough, but when she saw it was one of her favorites, she could barely contain her excitement.

Not only did Yu Hai have the elegance of a long-ago monarch, he was brilliant in his field, and he knew one of her favorite authors. If Ai Xue thought she was in danger of fangirling over her boss previously, that was nothing compared to this moment of truth. Except being a fangirl had never earned her anything before - no recognition, no satisfaction in life, and certainly no self-actualization. In fact, she’d felt like a fraud for most of her college years and all of her working years since. She’d only continued to take joy from the childish things she’d always loved: the dramas she watched, the novels she read, and the dream that somehow her cooking and fantasizing and waiting would make her life complete.

Her thoughts brought her bubbling excitement to a halt and she took a deep, steadying breath.

Slowly, so as not to disturb him from what she could only assume was his research, Ai Xue turned back to the tea tray. She carefully checked it over one more time before straightening up. Then she started for the door again, only to have her movement arrested once more - this time by the irritated sigh and quiet command of her CEO.

“Aren’t you going to bring me a cup?” he muttered as he made a notation in the text in his hands.

“Yes, sir,” Ai Xue murmured. She turned back and walked over to the tea tray, willing her hands to be still as she poured a cup out for him. Though her heart was pounding, she tried to remind herself that it was just a cup of tea. She’d poured thousands of cups in her lifetime, hadn’t she? It might feel like it was the single most important cup of tea in her life, but in reality it was just an ordinary cup of jasmine tea, hot and fragrant. A nervous giggle bubbled up in her throat at that thought, her wild imagination unable to help applying the same description to the CEO.

“Before it evaporates, Miss Yang.”

His no-nonsense tone of voice startled her out of her thoughts and the cup clanked loudly against the saucer. Ai Xue cleared her throat some, suddenly irritated. It had hardly been a minute since he’d asked for the tea and he obviously wasn’t aware Intern Yang had called in sick today. Hadn’t everyone done nothing but praise him for his attentiveness to the employees? She couldn’t help snorting softly before she straightened up, tea cup in hand. He may be the best looking man she’d ever worked for, and she might have designs on that hair of his, but she was not going to be ignored, or mistaken for someone else, just because he was distracted.

With a strength of character she normally only displayed at home, Ai Xue marched up to the desk, reached across, and set the tea cup and saucer down firmly on the available sliver of desktop between the book in his hands and his person. Then she cleared her throat again as he stared at the tea, bewildered at the intrusion.

“I,” she said slowly and clearly, “am not Miss Yang.”

She was gratified to see his eyes widen and a blush appear in his cheeks as he looked up at her. He was quiet for a moment, looking at her intently, barely blinking. Then he took a short breath and spoke. His voice was clear, but much, much softer.

“Obviously.”

#tumblr authors #nanowrimo #third and fourth chances #margot gentry #my dream cast includes #luo yunxi #Yang Zi #third and fourth chances 2

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