#however. that conversation is so difficult to write when. well. incredibly heavy sigh. see above | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

echo-of-sounds · 3 years

Text

who cares if it’s cliche?

-Aizawa x gn!reader-

cute gif

This was a commission for @seraphicghost! They asked for a fluffy/sweet scenario with the reader confessing in the rain plus a kiss. Thank you so much for the commission! This was super cute to write!

“Here’s your beer, boys!” Nemuri set the bottles down for Hizashi and Aizawa. She scooted in beside you, chirping, “And here’s your Sex in the Driveway.”

“Thanks,” you droned, choosing to ignore her suggestive eyebrow wiggle. She wasn’t one to let anyone live anything down, and now that she noticed, it has only gotten worse.

Hizashi chugged his beer, then slammed it rather loudly. “Alright! Sho, I’ve shown up at work high, I’ve had a one-night stand with Nemuri, and I’ve never been on a rollercoaster.”

“The former.”

“What? How’d you figure that out so quickly?!”

“Hizashi,” both you and Aizawa said, telling him to control his volume. Aizawa finished flatly, “You can’t not talk about everything you do. You’d tell me something like that. Not to mention how useless you are high. The entire school would’ve noticed.”

You hid your smile behind your drink. The faint smirk that lifted Aizawa’s lips fluttered your chest, spinning into your stomach. If only he let himself smile more, experience happiness more, then you could see his handsome smile more. Dark eyes flicked to yours, flustering your heated heart further.

You had to look away and drink some water. You were an adult. He shouldn’t be making you flashback to high school crushes and wistful, young romance.

The game continued for a few more rounds, eventually petering out. Nemuri leaned against you. Alcohol swarmed from her sigh. Pink flushed her cheeks, sticking hair to skin. She mumbled into her glass before finishing it, “I think it’s time to head home.”

“I’ll get a ride.” You clicked on your phone, and it wasn’t long till it beeped: “Car’s here.”

Sooner than you could even move a leg, Hizashi jumped up, swooping an arm around Nemuri’s waist. “I’ll bring her home. You two have fun.”

“Hizashi,” you called after him. He didn’t acknowledge you as he escorted her outside.

They just abandoned you with Aizawa, who was already looking at you when you glanced over. You went to take a drink. The empty glass prevented that. Lemon slices and ice taunted you, laughing that your last barrier between you two was gone. You set the cup down with a sigh.

Shouta nodded at it, “Want another drink?”

“Sure.”

You were once again beaten to your feet; He stood and took the glass. “Same thing?”

“Yeah, another Sex-” Your voice flatlined upon meeting his eyes. Despite the shadow under them, the red in them, and the heavy brow above, their sudden sharpness took your breath, completely unlike their usual dull and dry tone. The change nailed your brain useless.

“More sex?” His lips lifted ever so slightly. When no sound escaped your hanging mouth, he goaded, “More sex then.”

You slumped in the chair, holding your too-fast heart, replaying the bumbling. Saying ‘sex’ while being within two feet of his face, able to discern the bristles of his beard, a crack in his bottom lip, how attractive- Stop. If you couldn’t grow up and say something to him, then don’t bother thinking it.

A blue drink was placed in front of you. It was only your second, yet combined with the tickling in your neck and the bite in your chest, it felt like you were four or five in.

Shouta retook his seat across from you. Whatever you were feeling, anxiety or infatuation, that weighed your heart, lightened with his soft smile. It reached up to a soar when he asked about your most recent patrol.

Thankfully, the conversation from there flowed smoothly. You could keep up with no fumbling and simply enjoy your time with him. And you even got to see a couple more smiles, though they were faint. Every single one made thoughts echo inside: Just ask. It’s not that hard. Just ask! It made it difficult to focus on his words.

Once you finished your drink, your body, while light, lagged tired. You spoke through a yawn, “I’m gonna head out, Sho.”

“Need a cab?”

“No. I actually think I’m going to walk. It’s a pleasant night.” You stood and zipped up your sweatshirt.

He mirrored you and fixed his scarf. It wasn’t his Hero one, just a simple dark gray one, still allowing him ample room to nuzzle into it. Plus, it made him look reasonably fashionable compared to how he typically dressed. He grabbed your wallet from the table, holding it out for you, “I paid for the drink upfront.”

“Shouta, you didn’t need to do that.”

“No big deal,” he shrugged it off.

Yes, it was. If the others were here, you doubted- No. You knew he wouldn’t have done that.

You accepted your wallet and his kindness, muttering on the way out, “Thank you.”

The stroll home started quietly. Gusts blew your hood around. Shouta maneuvered to the outside of the sidewalk, so he was between you and traffic. Your elbows bumped every few steps. Neither of you commented or changed positions, letting it keep happening. If anything, you wanted to step closer to feel the emitting from his body.

Water dripped down the back of your sweatshirt, startling you. The single droplet increased to a steady rain in seconds. You hugged your hood and yourself. He nudged your arm and nodded to a nearby drugstore. It wasn’t much. But it was shelter.

Inside, Shouta slicked his hair back. Pale fingers combed through thick black, unveiling a sharp jaw and lovely scruff; too stunning to always hide under a mess of hair. The wet strands struggled to fit into an elastic. With enough finagling, they finally pulled into place, leaving room for the darkened line on his cheekbone to stick out. Just like his eyes did…

Which were staring at you. Dammit. You turned into an aisle, searching for anything interesting that wasn’t him. All it would take was a handful of sentences then he would know. If he reciprocated, all would be grand; your worry was for naught. However, if he didn’t, the plague of dread that’s accompanied the crush would crash. Never knowing felt like the better option.

You walked the main aisle. There were pool toys, makeup, hygiene, sex toys that you vehemently avoided, fearing Shouta would see the smallest glance towards them. A pair of fleece socks got your attention. The inside was incredibly fluffy and thick. The outside had kitty pawprints designed all over them.

“These are cute,” you smiled and showed them to the approaching Shouta.

He grunted and continued. It didn’t hide the fact you knew he thought them cute as well. Cats were the only things he gave into.

You combed the rest of the rows of items. Not one thing piqued your interest enough to buy. You searched for Shouta, finding him at the checkout, buying a pack of gum and some migraine relief pills. He lifted his brow.

You answered the silent question, “Didn’t see anything special.”

“Not even the cat socks?”

“If I’m still thinking about them in a few days, I’ll come back for them,” you smiled.

After thanking the cashier, your walk home resumed. The rain had stopped, leaving everything glossy and smelling of the earth. It lifted the air between yours and his shoulders.

Thick fingers extended a piece of gum. His eyes remained on the sidewalk when you took it and thanked him. The fresh mint sent a little chill down your back, frosting your mouth as you watched him, thinking, ‘Now was a perfect time. No one’s around. You just need to say it. A few sentences and you’re done.’

The instant your mouth opened, rain poured, loud and heavy. Your hood provided sparse protection.

Shouta grumbled into his scarf, “So much for a nice night.”

“Sorry… But you didn’t have to walk with me, you know? You could’ve called for a ride.”

His eyebrows scrunched with a groan.

“Here’s your turn, anyway. Get home fast,” you called over the pattering, nodding towards the left turnoff. The top of his apartment peaked out over the smaller buildings.

“It’s late. I’ll walk you home,” he grumbled again. His voice carried much less complaint this time and more concern.

Both of you picked up the pace, fast-walking down the sidewalks and hustling across the streets.

Only at your door did you face Shouta, not caring about being soaking wet anymore. He was closer than you expected, nearly bumping into his chest. You looked to his mouth, unable to make it to his eyes, unsure if you wanted to see them this close. You surprised yourself with how steady your voice sounded, “Do you want to come inside? Drink something warm?”

“I’m alright. Just wanted to make sure you got home alright.”

“I did. Thank you.” Your legs didn’t move. It’d be a whole lot warmer, calmer, dryer inside. “I know Hizashi drags you out to these things, but I still hope you had fun tonight.”

“I did.” His flat face gave you no emotional indicators.

“Good, I’m glad.” You said your goodbyes, yet your feet stayed put. Water soaked through all of your clothing. Goosebumps pricked down your arms. The rain vaguely obscured the handsome features you’ve been ogling at, wishing to call them yours.

He spun and took five steps away before you mustered, “Shouta?”

He faced you, waiting, half scowling, probably, hopefully, due to the rain.

“There’s something I’d like- There’s something I want- I want you to know. It’s okay if you don’t- If you’re not on the same page as me. I just- just…” Just say it. It was only a few words. You sucked in, preparing yourself mentally, emotionally, and physically for the absolute worst outcome, then spoke as confident as you could, “I just think you’re- I wanted to tell you that I’m-” Your heart heated as you finished, “I’m interested in you… more than a friend.”

The downpour built. You could no longer see his face. His mouth mumbled something. Unable to hear, you shuffled close, wiped water from your face, and asked him to repeat himself.

Shouta closed the tiny gap between your chests. You could only look at his mouth. This time though, you wanted to meet his eyes. It was the damn rain preventing that.

A finger lifted your chin. Instinct lowered your eyelids. The rain ceased on your face as lips connected to yours. They pressed unexpectedly sweetly, only to curl into a smirk and pull away.

You matched his smile, struggling to hold in the laugh, “A kiss in the rain, Shouta? Don’t you think it’s kinda cliche?”

“Who cares?” The hold on your chin tightened a bit and guided you back to him. All the anxiety bubbled up, popping and releasing as a giggle. Weight freed from your shoulders. You cupped his cheeks, kissing back with new excitement.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa imagine #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #commission #seraphicghost

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

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Why have I done this?

So, as per a conversation with @little-lightning-lavellan, I was blessed or maybe cursed, with this idea about Fane. As such, I had to write a short story about it that I think will be like four chapters long because...yeah. XD

Anyways, enjoy part one! (Look at what you’ve done. IT’S GLORIOUS!)

***

Anatomical Observations - Chapter 1

It had happened once. Short lived, quick, and barely noticeable as many things were more pressing, the world teetering on a crumbling edge. But it was hard to ignore such small things when voices were all you could hear when one was trying to work.

Solas was highly divested in an article of research. A basic magical theory in concept, minor amplifications of lesser spells, but it still required his mind to bend, to become flexible much like his magic when he had first awoken. As such, he had not heard many people come and go through the rotunda, he had not even heard the doors leading in and out slam shut or creak open, nor a polite greeting or scurrying messenger. That was how deep he was in his bubble of concentration. However, one--no, two voices from directly above were currently making it incredibly, and he meant incredibly, difficult to remain focused.

“I do believe that is my chair you are sitting in, Inquisitor.”, a male voice with a distinct Tevinter accent floated down from above, indignation and slight amusement laced within it.

“I don’t see your name on it, do I?”, another voice, far deeper and like rolling thunder with how it always held a slight growl. It always made Solas involuntarily shiver, and the same remained true now, making his focus splinter further like cracked ice. “Anyhow, it’s Inquisition property. Got a problem, talk to Josephine. I’m off duty.” A sound like a page being harshly flipped made his ears twitch.

A gasp. “And work her harder than she already is? Absolutely not!” Solas could tell the line was meant to be a jab, but it only held the telling of a joke within its haughty vibrato.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to sit your ass on the floor until I’m finished.”, that rumbling timbre came once again, a shifting sound and a loud thud signifying someone’s boots had been slammed down onto something.

“The floor? Me?!”, another indignant squawk, actually making Solas let out a frustrated sigh as he lifted a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. How much longer was this going to go on for? It wasn’t unusual for this type of banter to sound, but right now, he had work to complete.

And this was not helping accomplish that.

“Yes, the floor. Yes, you.”, another harsh flick of a page ruffling through the air. “Now, can you leave me alone? I’m busy.”

“Oh, yes, you’re quite busy stuffing your face with tea cakes!”, the Tevinter accent rose a pitch, as if in disbelief at what it was saying. “The crumbs! Have you no etiquette, Inquisitor?!”

“Nope.”, the gravelly voice responded with a heavy air of indifference, actually sounding a bit muffled as if it were eating something. “If Vivienne and Josephine can’t knock the elf out of me, no one can.”, Solas could just hear the sarcasm and roll of eyes in that statement. It almost made him chuckle, but he was still too miffed to push one through.

“Most elves I’ve met are very well mannered!”

“I’m not like most elves.”

“Well, that much is apparent!”

“Thanks for noticing. I’m so happy.”, the tone voicing that statement dripping with concealed disdain. Solas knew where that bitterness originated from, and hearing it always made his heart heavy. Heavier than it already was, even.

“You are a truly stubborn man! Fine, I’ll sit on the floor! The cold, cold floor!”, a scoff following right after those words as the sound of leather and, most notably a body, plopped down onto the stone.

Solas let out a heavy, heavy sigh as silence finally followed that exchange, letting his head hang down to where his chin nearly touched his chest in defeat. It would seem his attention was severed as much as the world’s magic was. He would not be getting back into his rhythm anytime soon.

“Perhaps I should find a quieter, more secluded place to do my work..”, he mused, lifting a hand to rub at his face slowly. “One of the lower chambers maybe..”

Solas sighed again before letting his hand fall back down to his desk with a light pap, eyes absently roaming over the pages of the tome before him. Maybe if he stilled his mind, found his anchor, he could try to decipher this line of text. The glyphs were a no go, however. Just trying to look at the faded lines was making his vision go blurry. Sadly, the theory he was trying to prove was reliant on those patterns, and they were far more convoluted than he remembered. Perhaps more things had adapted than he originally thought? Or did the older methods have to be reworked, seemingly forgotten like so much else? He, frankly, did not know. He couldn’t focus, but he would have to try.

“A ward..?”, Solas muttered under his breath, brows furrowing as he traced a sigil with his finger. “No..it is more akin to a summoning circle. Or perhaps a rune?”, he continued, slowly feeling how his mind began to bend and think, the lines of the glyphs becoming clearer, more defined. “Ah! The outlining symbols are for--”

His musing was immediately cut off, much like the frayed line of his focus, as a shout had him freezing and quite literally jumping in surprise.

“Fasta vas! What are you doing?!”, a squawk, the curse in Tevene elongated between the two words for more flair.

“Would you calm down?! Dammit, my ears are fucking ringing now! Ugh!”, the rolling thunder voice no longer indifferent as its volume rose to make the very stone quake. Once again, it made a light shiver run down Solas’s spine despite his tensed up form. What was going on now?

“How can I be calm when you...you do that!?”, furious shifting sounded as if someone was flailing limbs about.

“One, I don't know what the hell you’re going on about, Dorian!” The sharp snapping of a book making the ravens up above in the rookery flap in agitation. “Two, you can have your chair back because I’m not getting anything done with your needling!”

“I believe you need a needle, my friend! That looked incredibly painful!”

Solas felt his slowly relaxing body tense up at that, mind awakened, but for a completely different reason than trying to get magical research done. He lifted his gaze from where it was fixated on the pages of his book, looking upwards to search the railing that outlined the library for the source of the voices that had shattered his hour of contemplation. He knew them both, but the exclamation housed by one had him wanting to see the other.

Where..? Solas thought the question, eyes roaming every inch of the circular area before stark white had his gaze halting immediately. Ah. There we are.

He would spot that messy head from anywhere, even in snowy regions like the Emprise. Though, the body that that hair was attached to did a fine job of location as well. Occasionally, he would find his eyes lingering, or searching for less...conventional reasons. However, this wasn’t the time to be thinking of such things, especially as his mind still reeled with what the unaccounted voice had yelled.

Fane was currently along one of the bookshelves, a gloved hand firmly pushing a book back into its place with a typical scowl plastered on his otherwise smooth face, the faded green lines of his vallaslin making an already striking face look more so. Solas felt his body relax as he took in the sight of the man, or rather, the dragon.

His dragon, to be more precise, but not in a way of physical possession. It was more fond, more willing than that. It was not a bond of slavery. It was a vow. A centuries old one, to be exact.

Solas almost called out to the other, a sense of fondness and curiosity as well as mild concern invading his mind, but he clamped his mouth shut when he saw Dorian stride up to the snowy haired man with a look of wide eyed fascination. That was an interesting look, and truthfully, a worrying one. Such looks harbored questions, and he knew Fane did not entertain many inquiries.

And for good reason.

“Wait, what? You can’t be serious?”, Dorian said with an airy laugh. “You do that, and just walk it off?”, his tone rose pitch in disbelief.

Solas caught the glint of ebbing gold as Fane rolled his eyes, turning his larger frame to face the Tevinter mage more directly. His eyes zoned in on how the reluctant Inquisitor was tentatively rubbing at his jaw, working it back and forth slowly as if it were locked up. Dorian had said something about something being painful, hadn’t he? Was that what he meant?

“Again, I didn’t do anything.”, Fane growled out in denial, the hand upon his jaw shifting so he had it pinched between two fingers to where it appeared he was trying to fit it into place. “I was eating, and I bit my tongue because you pissed me off!”

Solas smirked faintly at his dragon’s typical usage of foul language despite the way he watched his odd movements like a hawk. Fane was incredibly eloquent, cryptic, even, but when irritation or just general boredom took hold, the dual being was a sailor. It always fascinated him rather than disgusted him. For a dragon, an ancient dragon, to latch onto common parlance as if it were the most natural thing to their being was intriguing. Then again, Fane had lived in this world for twenty-four years without knowing he was a dragon. That, would perhaps, be a more justifiable reason, but it still piqued Solas’s interest. Everything about the dragon turned elf was a point of interest. Especially now, with the way he was still nursing his sharp jaw and glowering at Dorian as if he was trying to work something out in his head.

“I’m sorry, but that was not you biting your tongue!”, Dorian exclaimed, shaking his head with that same look of disbelief before it morphed into a thoughtful look, hand coming up to absently stroke his mustache. “Though...if what I saw was..well, actually what I saw, then I have questions and curiosities regarding it.”

Fane’s expression went deadpan as he stared at the other, the golden light in his eyes all but extinguished as he turned on his heel to go the other way. Solas blinked a bit, even as his eyes followed the dragon’s retreating form.

He disengaged. Solas thought with certainty and familiarity. Unsurprising, but still worrying. He only resorts to that level of disregard when he is hiding something.

His eyes never left Fane’s stalking form, noticing how his brows were furrowed deeply, but could see one of them twitching with nervous energy. Broad shoulders were raised much like a shield, narrow nostrils flared with attempts at dispelling whatever heat had invaded a snowy disposition, partially gloved hands flexed, tendons underneath leather bindings apparent from how much force was behind its pull.

And golden emerald eyes were now fighting for dominance - dancing and bashing against each other as abilities that had laid dormant for too long began to try and enable themselves in an attempt to mitigate the, no doubt, myriad of emotions coursing through a draconic mind.

Solas felt his concern towards the ancient man mount at all those observations, but also, he felt slightly exasperated. The latter was only because he knew this strategy of deflection that Fane always used as his Queen upon the chessboard of his mental battles. He bounced, side stepped, and outright threw a verbal wall up when he did not wish to cross a specific square. It wasn’t that Fane was lying out of malicious means; he was doing it to protect himself and others. But Solas knew it only caused more harm, more warped perceptions.

It hurt Fane, and he knew all too well how much it hurt to keep the truth hidden, even if it was necessary for the long run.

That is the secondary explanation for this flight. Solas mused silently, eyes never leaving the dragon’s form despite his long strides. Whatever has happened puts his mask in jeopardy.

So lost in his own thoughts and the duel of veridium, Solas didn’t notice how Dorian broke out of his look of repose as he noticed the other striding away with purposeful steps.

“Where are you going?”, Dorian called after the white hair elf, but not making an effort to chase after him with how far the other had already gotten from him.

“To beat the shit out of a dummy before I beat you.”, Solas heard Fane growl out lowly, dangerously, and for a moment, he easily caught the flickering of his eyes as they met with his own. He met that gaze with ease, reading them as no other could. The message they conveyed had him instantly seeking more as the shifting of deep emerald had his eyes narrowing in concern.

“What happened?”, Solas mouthed to Fane as he was unable to communicate precisely how the other did without it being perceived incorrectly. He noticed how the man had slowed to keep their gazes longer. There was such volume in them that Solas nearly wanted to tear his own away, but also delve deeper like he thristed for their color bound words, their fathomless depths amid a thin world.

Fane’s eyes flitted to the door that led to the balcony the Enchanter always occupied, and then down, to signify he was taking the adjacent stairwell from there to bypass the Great Hall before he disappeared from the edge of the railing, the sound of door slamming issuing his complete departure.

Solas let out a quiet sigh before nodding, pushing himself up with his arms to stand straight. Well, it would appear he was most certainly not getting an ounce of work done today, and oddly, he was okay with that since concern was overriding his need for magical answers.

There were other, more pressing, questions that needed attending to.

***

#i'll probably put these up on ao3 eventually #but what did fane dooooo?#what doesn't fane do #also it was fun writing dorian! X3 #and solas as always i like writing him #my writing #solavellan #solas #oc: fane lavellan #dorian pavus #dragon age #this idea has been living rent free in my head because SOMEONE put it there!#*glares with threatening thanks* thank you

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nicka-nell · 4 years

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There is no such thing as a perfect world - Chapter 7: He, she and the other woman

Words in this chapter:1.968

Warning: none

Chapter 6 - Just look, don't touch. No, looking is also forbidden

(y/n) = your name | (l/n) = your last name | (h/c) = haircolor | (e/c) = eyecolor

Thoughtfully she puts the groceries in the kitchen when her brother puts his hand on hers. "(y/n) what's going on?" He asks her worriedly and looks at her hand. She was just about to put the rice in the fridge. Her thoughts are so far away right now. "Did you know that Wakatoshi has a girlfriend?" Yato releases her hand and places the rice in the rice box. "It would not surprise me. He is successful and handsome. Why shouldn't he have a girlfriend?” He tries to stay as objective as possible. "You're right ... how stupid of me." She smiles sadly and tries to suppress her tears. "(y/n)? What, what is it?” He asks worried and helpless and takes her in his arms. What's the problem ... She had fallen in love with the silent Wakatoshi Ushijima. Others would probably call him cold and dull. But not her. Wakatoshi appears to be very serious about pursuing his goals. He is not a man of many words, no he is a man of deeds. That is what fascinates her about him. There are so many men these days who just talk but don't keep their word. Not so Wakatoshi. For her, he embodies calm. Security. She feels comfortable and safe near him. They don't have to talk to each other much. Because, even silence is never an uncomfortable silence. It is always pleasant. Despite his serious expression, his olive-green eyes are always warm when she looks into them. His smile is breathtaking. Even if he hardly shows it at all. She tells Yatoall about her feelings for Wakatoshi and this mysterious woman. Yato tries to distract her with her favorite series, but he doesn't really succeed. Because when her cell phone vibrates, and she sees who wrote her, her heart is racing, and she is close to tears again.

Wakatoshi Ushijima [19:50 p.m.]: Good evening (y/n), do you have time tomorrow? (y/n) (l/n) [19:51 p.m.]: Please ask your dark-haired girlfriend first if that's okay. I don't want to be stupidly pamped or jostled by her again.

(y/n) cannot believe that he wants to meet her even though he has another girlfriend. Her chest hurts, and she clings even closer to her sofa cushion. As she hadn't expected otherwise, Wakatoshi doesn't answer her anymore. - Completely astonished, he reads the message again and again and doesn't understand what is going on with (y/n). Which dark-haired woman? He looks at his background picture and sees (y/n) and him there. He had a busy day and just got back from training. The two of them were sitting under a cherry tree, and he was lying with his head on her lap while she read him an article about the consequences of overworking the body. He smiled up at her in the photo. Tendou had taken the photo when he was jogging in the park and discovered the two of them. He had sent him the picture with the remark 'Are these the future Ushijima spouses?' He didn't quite understand the message, but he found the picture beautiful and had set it on his cell phone as background. How could she think he had a girlfriend? And who does she mean by dark-haired woman? As if a bolt of lightning struck him, a certain face suddenly appeared in his head. Yui Tsukawa. - "Open the door!", roars Wakatoshi in front of a small apartment and pounds the door with full force. "Open up Yui!", his voice is now even louder and much more aggressive. After a few minutes the door opens and Yui stands in front of him. The woman he used to think he loved. However, after several weeks of relationship it was already clear to him that she was not the woman he could imagine at his side. Quite the opposite. He didn't want her and her disgusting character close to him. "Wakatoshi?", she does surprised. "Stop playing the stupid. What did you do? What did you say to (y/n)? ”, he yells at her and pushes her against the wall of the house. "Hey, not so stormy you old stallion. I only protected you from her. She is not good for you. I am the one who is good for you. You should be grateful to me.” She laughs mockingly. His grip on her shoulders grows stronger. "Grateful? No one will ever be grateful to a person as disgusting as you. You never did me good and neither will you. So stay away from me and above all stay away from (y/n). If I see you again near her, you will get to know me from a completely different side.” With furious eyes, he looks at her. "Wakatoshi what do you find in this woman?! She is not the right one for you!” Yui screams. "It's none of your business.", he roars, looking at her one last time before hissing away from her. What does he find in her? She is a beautiful woman. He admires that she can show her feelings so openly. She is intelligent, can cook incredibly well and sees him as a normal person. She doesn't care that he's a well-known volleyball player. She doesn't care that he writes with his left hand. She doesn't care that he doesn't talk much. It doesn't even bother her. She is worried about him, which makes him happy for inexplicable reasons. He actually always talks about volleyball. Just think of this sport. But once he's with (y/n), he hardly thinks about his favorite sport. He only thinks of her. He thinks it's so great to hold her little hands in his, and he'd love to hold her tender body in his arms. Kiss her lips. Feel her heartbeat. Do people call that love? - ** Ding-Dong ** Yato and (y/n) hear the bell of their apartment and look at each other questioningly. "Are you expecting someone Yato?" She asks confused. Shaking his head, he gets up to go to the door. "Good evening, I wanted to speak to (y/n). Is she home?” In a calm voice Wakatoshi stands in front of him and looks at him questioningly. Yato takes a step forward to lean the front door a little so (y/n) can't hear the conversation. "You are Wakatoshi Ushijima right? Listen ... it may be that you are a great volleyball player. But I don't want you to play with (y/n). Did we get along there? I don't think she wants to see you now.”, he whispers softly. "And who are you that you can control about (y/n)? She can also tell me herself that she doesn't want to talk to me.”, growls Wakatoshi and looks at Yato urgently. "I am (y/n)'s brother. Ushijima-san, you should go ...” Now there is emphasis in his voice. But that doesn't bother Wakatoshi. He just wants to talk to her. Put everything right. "It's a misunderstanding. So let me go to (y/n). If she doesn't want to see me, I'll go.”, he says calmly. Yato ponders for a long time whether he should really let him into the apartment. "Good ..." he sighs softly and opens the door again to go in with Wakatoshi. In the living room they both look in (y/n)'s direction, and she also looks at them after a few seconds. When she sees Wakatoshi, her heart starts to beat faster again. "Let me talk to you.", his voice echoes across the room in a deep tone. "Why?", "Because you were told lies.", he replies quickly, and she looks briefly at her brother. "You should talk.", he says worriedly and sits on the sofa. (y/n) nods and gets over to Wakatoshi. "Come with me to my room.", she murmurs to herself nodding her head to indicate that he should follow her. In her room she closes the door and sits on her bed. Wakatoshi follows her and her bed cracks with the extra weight of him. "So?" She sighs sadly. He briefly thinks about what to say and supports his arms on his legs. "So this woman you talked about is not my girlfriend. We used to be together but I never loved her. She was a mistake. Not like you.” The last part he devours so much that it is barely audible to her or even to himself. The relief draws (y/n)'s face, and she notices how her tense body is slowly relaxing. "I'm sorry I thought this woman was really your girlfriend." She apologized to him and put a hand on his back. "You should be sorry.", he replies and straightens up again. He looks deep into her eyes and his gaze slowly drifts down to her lips. They are so beautiful. Red and so delicate. "It should be.", he mumbles to himself again before his lips meet hers. He doesn't know what made him kiss her, but his body and mind have been working against each other for a long time now. His kiss is so loving, completely different from his previous words. A gracious feeling spreads in (y/n) and she slips closer to Wakatoshi. He notices that she is returning his kiss and reaches for her hip to pull her onto his lap. He pauses briefly and looks deep into her eyes. Her breath is shallow, her lips as red as blood, and her cheeks glowing a soft pink. She looks up at him questioningly but also with a painful face. "Waka- toshi ... I ... I love ... you ..." her delicate, fragile voice sounds in his ear. His eyes widen at her words, and he has the feeling that the warmth that rises in him, burns him. His eyes, which previously looked at (y/n) in an olive green, now looks at her in a dark green. Almost black. His face, which previously was difficult to interpret, now shows pure lust and desire. He's torn. He knows that he feels more for her than just friendship. Even if he didn't want to see it for a long time. But he doesn't want to hurt her either. He doesn't want to see her puffy eyes again. Could he make her as happy as she made him? With a heavy sigh, he lays his forehead against hers. “We'll start playing serious games again soon. That means more training, additional training, training on weekends, little or no free time.” As always, little emotion can be heard from his voice. But his grip on her hip grows stronger. Almost as if he regretted something. "I won't have time for you. I'm not the one who can make you happy.”, he continues in a calm tone. (y/n)'s chest briefly constricts at his words, but she exhales deeply and grabs his cheeks with her hands. He thinks it's almost funny how her little hands can't even cover half of his face. Still, he doesn't want her to let go of him. He looks at her with a bittersweet feeling and is afraid of her next words. "Wakatoshi? I'm not telling you that I love you to let go of you afterwards. I know that you have a tight schedule and that you will have less time. But that's okay with me. I have my own practice that I have to lead. I will also go to new seminars every now and then. That's the way it is. But when I'm done, I'll support you. With everything. I would like to be your partner. Provided ... you return my feelings. If not, then I'm sorry, but I can't keep it to myself any longer. It would not do me any good to pretend that I was nothing more for you than- ”, these words were enough for him to pull her closer and give her another kiss.

Chapter 8 - I’m yours (NSFW)

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#wakatoshi #wakatoshi ushijima #ushijima #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #reader #story #fluff #angst #haikyu x reader #love #friendship #perfect world?#grown up characters #just an idea #short story #Nela's story #ushijima x reader

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moonlightheretic · 6 years

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It's been a while. This chapter was hard to write. Lately it's been difficult to pull my thoughts together. I normally write scene by scene in no particular order and then string them together later on. Probably not the best way to do it. I hope you enjoy the third installment of the Heretic! In the near distance smoke climbed out of chimneys mixing in with the gray juggernauts adrift in the sky, burdened with rain or snow--I could not tell. Horses and a herd of feet had traveled this path, leading down to the village below. The Inquisition had been here. But there were no banners that occupied the front gate. Perhaps they already deemed this place inconsequential to my capture, considering I could not be located there. If they moved on, then many opportunities lie in those wooden structures and pastures full of hay. There was also a large possibility of a trap, beckoning me with warm houses and food for my horse. The need for comfort was overwhelming, diminishing reason's voice down to an ignorable whisper. I suppose I had let myself become spoiled, living on my mountain castle after all. The barn was distinguished as was its utter abandonment. A widow, outliving previous ownerships, enduring. Sitting alone in a giant pasture next to an imposing lake. There was no impressions left in the patchy snow of feet or livestock. However in the next enclosure there were cattle, it was a low lying fence, clearly not for horses but it would do, for now. It was on the edge of clustered farmsteads and the town bundled farther in. I loosened the mare's bridle to a point at which the bit hung under her muzzle. Now she could eat. I opened the gate and she trotted right to the yellow target in sight, not minding the cows and their wariness. This would be better than the tiny rations I put past her. Upon my investigation of the barn, I found an old pair of leather gloves, darker than midnight and thick as bark. Next to them was enchantment equipment. I stood perplexed, this is no ordinary barn. Sure there were stalls and a loft full of snow, but enchanting too? The structure itself was barely liveable. The chill was indomitable and bled right through the holes in the walls. The ceiling being the worst. It was a wonder in itself that it was still standing. It seemed like all was needed but a gust of wind to knock it over. I decided to keep the gloves. Although oversized, they were warm combined with the thinner gloves I had on. Amazingly the anchor's light could not penetrate through the gruff material. Hiding it, caging it, I was content not to see it. It had been a little over four days since my escape. I thought about Varania, Morigan and Dal'Nim. The replay in my head of everything that went so horribly wrong. With so much silence, it was monstrously loud in my head. Here, there were distractions. Noise to overpower the gnawing grind of worry. I ventured into the town alone, unknowing of what I would find. The village people acted how I expected in a settlement as small as this. It was large enough to have an inn for pilgrims and travelers and a chantry with a few stalls selling goods nearby. Trade was incredibly localized and self circulating. They must all work in harmony somehow. The locals carried on with their daily duties and left me alone. A few stared. Only for the purpose of gawking at an outsider. Not in four years had I experienced the luxury of being anonymous and unassuming until now. Leaving skyhold granted a cloak of incognitum. Without the parade of attendants, soldiers, banners and flashy armor; I was faceless. There was a food stall, it looked to be selling dried fruit and jerky. The primary meal of travelers, dried anything. Odd for a tiny village, especially off season but desperation drove me. "Hello traveler!" He waved me over, already seeing my slight approach. My feet led me to him. "Pardon me, you look like you've traveled far to get here. May I ask where you are from?" I browsed through his crude display, " Free Marches," technically, it was not a lie. "Heading up to Skyhold? Or maybe Orlais? Not often people traverse all the way down here for leisure." I sampled some of the jerky, not particularly worried about his probing questions. Simple conversation was welcome after the solitude I had endured. "I have never left the Free Marches, I thought I would explore Ferelden for a time." That's when I noticed he would not meet my eyes. He didn't dare look above my shoulders. The jerky tasted familiar too. "Is that so? Well I hope you enjoy yourself, though early spring is a bit nasty down here. More like a continuation of winter I say." "I will take all of your jerky and these and those there." I pointed. "We also have a Travelers basket! Would you like to see it?" I nodded. "All you ever need prepacked with a bow on top!" I sampled a second piece. My suspicion was confirmed. He came out from the back and presented it to me. Dried fish, Jerky, dried plums, figs and dates, last were a pouch of mixed nuts. "Are all of these locally sourced?" I pondered out loud. "Of course!" "I'll take this instead." He smiled brightly and I gave him the required coin. I emptied the basket immediately into my pack. I noticed him peering into it. When he saw the lack of space he commented, "We have the most wonderful selections of aged cheese, Inquisitor." He realized his mistake. Wide eyed he stared at me and his lips quivered. "Did that come from Skyhold's stores as well?" I stared back and revealed a sliver of my dagger, just enough to twinkle in the reflection of his straining eyes. "Was it Leliana? Are you hers?" Voice low and guarded but he still heard it. "H-have m-m-mercy." He stuttered. "I won't ask again." My eyes narrowing in on his hazel ones. He nodded. I took off towards the barn and he sunk behind the stand in relief. Was everyone in this town planted here? I had to leave immediately. This time everyone looked, and in their eyes they knew. Out of doors, windows and small alleys they revealed themselves. Following after me slowly, they were in no rush. The cold air stung my lungs like a nest of bees and I coughed as I ran. The pack trembled against by back and my legs were much in the same situation. The barn was insight and I noticed I was being herded right there by the spy's behind me. That's when I halted all movement just a few strides away from the barn. There was a heavy crunching of snow and squishing of mud. The inquisition's army filled out from behind it. 700 foot soldiers and 300 Calvary, among them was Commander Cullen. He stepped out of the shadows casted by the barn. The spy's caught up and finished the circle. I was completely surrounded. Cullen strolled towards me, unafraid. Still too trusting in his former leader to expect hostility. I relaxed my posture and slowed my breathing. He held his hand up when his army followed, still they readied their weapons just in case. All of them wanted a drop of my blood, I could see it in their barely hidden rage. "Inquisitor." He breathed. "Commander." I acknowledged him coldly. "You need to return with me." It was a thinly veiled order. "Cullen, I am disappointed." His face lit up in alarm. "You moved our army without my command." Granted it was only a portion. It could still be considered an act of treason. "I never expected you to turn rogue." It took him a while to gather his thoughts. He sighed heavily and grimaced, making his sleepless nights well defined on his face. "This isn't--enough, you are surrounded. You can't slip out this time!" He rose his voice and the army took one step closer. Cullen lowered his mouth to my ear. "Come with me. Come back to Skyhold." He placed his hand on the gold corded grip of his sword and the other on my shoulder. "Do not make me kill you." It came out gruffly but it was no more than a plead. "This doesn't need to become worse than it already is..." I turned my head to stare into his eyes, "You are correct. It doesn't. Call off the army." It was a command. Old habits caused him to stand straight and accept but he resisted it. He looked crushed, the weight of what had to come next made his shoulders sag. "Be reasonable." He whispered hoarsely. "Stop hesitating." I growled. I was challenging him and he knew it. "I cannot use a Commander who lets emotional burdens stop his blade! See to your duty!" He grabbed me by the forearms, "Bring me the shackles!" A lone soldier darted out with said instrument in hand. It was then I fulfilled something only he and I knew about. I stretched up and stole his dry lips, he froze and so did the shackles boy. An unspoken affection. One last wish. "Inquisi--" I head butted him and he fell backwards on to the lad with the shackles. A war cry was torn out of a soldier's throat and they charged. The chaos began. I back flipped and in mid air delivered a shower of daggers. I hit the ground and into a black cloud pluming in every direction. Their arrows flew into it, but I was already gone. I hurried to any exit but found there was none. I would have to make one. An indecisive Archer stood still with his weapon raised. There was so much confusion that the army started slaying each other, he simply didn't know where to aim. I rushed him and slung a small dagger at his throat. He choked and sent his arrow flying into another archer's horse, sending it to the ground. I pushed him off and at that time my shroud of invisibility had dissipated. I took the horse and kicked it into a full gallop. "After her!" I heard Cullen roar. "Permission to engage!" My hardened heart cracked a little, I knew it was coming, everything so far had been leading up to it. To hear him say it, that they were given authority over my death, brought me to my knees. We neared the frozen lake and despite the horse's protest continued on to it. It was rather hard to distinguish the ice from the surrounding pasture other than a few handfuls of tall weeds by the shore. The ice gave way under it's hooves and an arrow sliced my cheek. I collapsed onto the ice, sliding for a bit, the arrows skidded past me. I scrambled to my feet and another arrow pinned my right leg. I didn't stop. In the center of the reservoir was a fishing hole. Now on foot I didn't stand a chance against the men on horses. I could hear the cracking in the ice as more soldiers and horses boarded it. They weren't thinking anymore, no longer individuals, they became a single functioning wave of wraith. "Halt!" I heard Cullen call out. I didn't dare look back, I could feel their breath on my neck. Their horses screamed as the ice broke underneath, one by one they were going down. They were right behind me. I lurched toward the hole without a plan. "Inquisitor!" His fingertips barely holding on to my pack as I ripped myself from him and plunged into the freezing depths. Arrows followed me into the murky abyss. Spinning with bubbles inches from my head. The chill decreased my rapid strokes. Soon my breath would let out. Frantic, I swam in the direction of what I believed to be the shore. I didn't make it far. Gagging and In a frenzy, I drove my daggers into the ice above, cutting and slashing, grinding my way out. Blackness pricked at my eyes and my mind grew foggy. Up and down, up and down I repeated in my head. Eventually less and less pressure was applied to the ice and my grip faltered as I stabbed at my icy imprisonment. My body stiffened and I could hardly move. 'You must come up for air sometime, Inquisitor. Otherwise you'll drown.' her voice creeped into my head somewhere distant. I drew in gasping breaths of the blackness that was consuming me. 'I knew her. The kitchen server with the chestnut long hair. So long that when braided, it wrapped around her head twice. Now it was splintered and frizzy forming a fuzzy halo snaking around her head. An assortment of bodily fluids puddled at the woman's bound feet, though, no one paid any mind. Her elbows tied back to the arms of the chair, she sat motionless. Dainty fingers resembled talons of the predetory kind. Twisted and skewed at sharp angles; broken in all places. They hung limp from the pain. Hot brands of the label "traitor" singed into her forehead and cheeks. Teeth had been dug out by the roots, caking blood to her lips and chin. Describing her current appearance as haggard would be putting it nicely. Yet her head and neck remained defiant. She met Leliana's cold glare with her own and with an added smirk. This was the kind Elvhen girl who brought me sweet cakes late into night unprompted, when I was still knee deep in analyzing reports just hours before dawn. Her catch phrase always the same, "You must come up for air sometime, Inquisitor. Otherwise you'll drown." Bodies of her comrads either left piled on the floor or lifelessly strung from the dungeon ceiling, deceased from the excessive torture. Faces almost unrecognizable and distorted. She was the last thorn stuck in leliana's side and the most quiet. Much to her withheld frustration. "Your strength will not last you." Leliana circled the withering elf. "Your leader will not save you. Clearly he did not come for the others." I swayed on my feet, noticeably agitated with my arms crossed. Days had gone by and no answers were found. "Be patient Inquisitor, fingers are easy to break but minds can be much harder." Leliana's second in command whispered into my ear. She stopped in front of her and pulled her hair back sharply. "Your silence gains you nothing." Leliana did not need to raise her voice to be frightening. Rather, it was her collected and calm demeanor that was most unnerving. It could rattle the bones of any prisoner caught in her question. "You and that gang whom targeted key members of the Inquisition and that of the Herald herself is an unforgivable treasonous act." "Ah, Sister Nightingale, denial is such an ugly color on you" The servent gave a toothless grin, "You wish so desperately to pull the herald into this...that you imagine one of us holding a knife to her neck to misconstrue the obvious truth? When you know not one of us infiltrated her chambers that night. Not a single strand on her head touched..." "Enough!" "Who Do You Work For?!" 'She raised a shaking hand and pointed a crooked finger at me. My eyes followed her fingernail up her arm and into her steadfast eyes. Her mouth curling at the ends, she aimed her gaze, hurling a silent dialogue at my own , not caring if I understood or not. "Don't you dare look at her." Leliana seethed. Slowly she tilted her head back to leliana and cursed "May the dread wolf take you." Her body convulsed and the chair shook with each thrash. "Shit! Get her still!" The room erupted in chaos. "We need her alive! Keep her conscious damn it!" I could not die this way, not yet! I felt the ice give and pockets of light could now be seen sinking into the frigid water. One more push. With every little crumb of might I had left, I slammed my daggers into the unyielding surface and they broke through. Just before I lost consciousness I was hauled out of the water roughly. "Are you fucking mad?!" Cullen vented. I sputtered and coughed, water seizing the new air in my lungs. It felt like the water in my lungs were freezing all over again from the chilly air. "I will die on my terms." I grunted. "No. You are hereby in my custody, Moon'Hwa." It was the first time he said my name. He held on to me, locked me in his arms as I shivered. I whistled, choppy and unclear but it would have to do. "Don't you dare." He warned. Luckily, I knew the gaps in his armor. A pounding of hooves could be heard in the distance. "Inquisitor!" He screamed into my ear. His pent up stress released into my title. Now he was shaking. He pushed me forward abruptly and I almost face planted into the creaking ice. His horsemen had backed off of the ice, hoping not to lose any more numbers but the footsoldiers stood not 30 steps away. He pulled out his sword and held it to my chin. Struggling to keep it steady, "I will...not hesitate." He whispered, eyes bearing great pain. I lunged for him and my knives met his sword. "You will not stand between me and Fen'Harel." I eyed my horse cantering along the bank and so did he. The sword swung and almost lacerated my neck, making me focus back on him. Tears were crawling down his cheek as I countered another jab. His soldiers were restless, waiting for a command to kill. He pushed his weight into me and I barely held his blade back. With a roar he swung down and I dashed to the right, targeting the gap and slicing my blade right through it. Arrows pelted into my heavy leather duster and I retracted the dagger. He fell to his knee, punching the sword into the ice to balance himself. I ran and did not look back. My horse was trotting uneasily by the shore. The men were charging after me, some falling into thin pockets of the ice and others slipping. I leapt into the saddle and we raced to the cover the surrounding forest provided. I cried out when an arrow tore into the flesh of my forearm. Ducking, I held on to the horse's neck for dear life and we cloaked ourselves behind the trees and boulders. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long.

#solavellan #theheretic #moonhwa #lavellan #fanfic #daifanfic #dragonageinquisition #dai #dragonage #dragonagefanfic #fanfiction #dragon age inquisition #da: inquisition #rogue

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bleedingcoffee42 · 7 years

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"i prefer blondes honestly" royai? i feel like it calls for it very obviously, yet your writing always takes an unexpected turn that leaves me pleasantly surprised

Did you say a Gentlemen PreferBlondes AU? No? Ooops, here is that unexpected turn.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roy Mustang had been a privatedetective long enough to never be surprised by what rich people wouldspend their money on. He could have gone to college, maybe joinedthe military, but growing up in his Mother’s bar had shown him therewas a much more lucrative and mentally engaging career out there forhim and it was in private investigations. He had a way of thinkingthat allowed him to see connections that most people would miss andhe could fit in in any situation which made him a perfect candidatefor the job. This particular job, however, was going to be a wasteof his intelligence but certainly paid enough to be worth his time. He took a moment to finally sit down in the chair opposite of Mr.Armstrong’s desk and accept the offer. “I’ll take the case.”

Thaddeus Armstrong breathed a sigh ofrelief. “Thank you Mr. Mustang, I know you are discreet andcareful about your work. I hope my reservations about Miss Catalinaare wrong, but you do understand how I can not risk my son or theArmstrong family being ruined by a gold-digger.”

Roy gave an understanding nod that didnot betray his real thoughts. He always found amusement in theridiculous lines people came up with when they explained theirreasoning for hiring him. The truth here was that the Armstrongfamily wanted Alex Armstrong’s fiance gone, and if that meantbreaking Alex’s heart by showing him pictures of her deception orforcing him to tears listening to recordings of her confessing thatshe was interested in money not love….well they would be here tocomfort him and only occasionally say ‘I told you so’. That was noneof his concern though. “Please tell me as much background as youcan.”

“Rebecca Catalina is a showgirl.” Thaddeus said with a heavy sigh. “Sings, dances….lets rich menbuy her things. My son fell head over heels in love with her. Proposed. They are planning to wed in Aquroya and I have managed todetain him for business here in Central for a few days. His fiancewill go ahead and ensure plans are in place for the wedding. He hasgiven her a blank check and I…am ashamed I have raised such a blindfool.”

Roy nodded. “She will be travelingalone?”

“No, she will travel with her bestfriend and maid of honor. The girl who sings and dances with her inthe show. Her name is Riza.” Armstrong said. “They leave onthe train tomorrow using my Pullman car as their own. Mr. Mustang Ineed you to watch Rebecca and report to me her loyalty to my son andher intentions if she will divulge them. Please sir, the wedding isthis weekend, so I need quick results.”

Roy watched the man pull an envelopefrom his desk drawer. “Yes, sir.”

xxxxxxx

Roy was not disappointed in the leastby the amount of activity on the train. Rebecca was in fullcelebration mode, buying rounds and keeping the dining car livelyfrom the minute the train left the station. He was worried thiswould be a difficult job, that she would have enough sense to keepherself hidden away in the private car, but he was rather fortunatethat she was not inclined to be quiet about her upcoming nuptials. He was glad he got a seat early as the train car was packed tocapacity within a hour of her ‘open bar’ announcement.

He sat in earshot of the bar for hours. Rebecca showed off her ring, talked about her dress and finallyflirted a little bit too much with a very married man by the name ofYoki who owned a diamond mine out East. It was bad enough the man’swife pulled him away and out of the car, but he could see the glintin Yoki’s eye and the not so subtle wave that said he was far fromdone with their conversation about the rock on her finger.

He had yet to determine if Rebecca wassimply a flirt or was the loose woman the Armstrong family feared shewas. It was, however, quite the show as the girl was loud and thelife of the party. He was also apparently going to get a free showas someone brought in a record of a song the showgirl happened to bea fan of. She called her friend Riza over, shouting above the hum ofthe crowd for her friend to join her on the bar for a show.

Roy leaned back and wondered how thiswas going to go as these two ladies danced on a bar on a movingtrain. The crowd however was thrilled and took their seats, clearedthe way for these girls to put on some impromptu number in thecrowded car and they were not disappointed. Rebecca entered fromthe head of the train and her friend Riza from the back. They sang asong that had been wildly popular this year called “Again” asthey walked down the aisle towards each other. Roy found himselfentranced, they were exceptionally good at what they did. They sangin harmony, advanced towards each other with perfect strides and metin the middle during a key part of the song…then separated to dancewhile they sang towards either end of the bar. With practicedprecision and elegance he couldn’t quite comprehend from two ladieswearing high heels steeping up chairs and bar stools, they finallyreached the bar-top and the real show began.

Roy found himself not paying attentionto Rebecca anymore, but to her friend. He always did prefer blonds,honestly, but that was not what he found so incredibly attractiveabout her. Despite being in a profession that required him toscrutinize emotions and motives, he couldn’t think beyond the factthat she was beautiful and athletic and made him shift uncomfortablyin his seat when she took her hair out of that hair clip and threw itinto the audience. At least he could think clearly enough to goover and pick it up out of the aisle so he could give it back to her. Or not think clearly at all because the worst thing he coulddo was be noticed by these two when he was working a case.

The song ended and the car erupted inapplause and whistling. Roy held the hair clip and realized it wastoo late to turn back now. Perhaps he could use this as a way to getcloser to the girls which would help him get recordings if needed. Photo opportunities on the train car would be difficult. He waitedfor a little while, another round of shots for the crowd courtesy ofRebecca, and he saw the other girl trying to find her way back to atable. He stood up and got her attention. “Miss, I believe thisis yours.”

Riza smiled at him, he was handsome andlooked like he wasn’t even trying hard to look that good: Messy hairthat almost covered those intoxicating dark eyes, and pinchablecheeks. She hoped he would be the one to pick the clip up. “Thankyou.”

“I’m Roy.” He said and waved tothe empty seat opposite him. “Would you join me for something toeat? I’d offer to buy you a drink but it looks like your friend hasthat covered.”

“I’d love to.” Riza smiled and puther hair up before taking a seat. He had ordered appetizers and shewas starving. Rebecca was like a whirlwind normally, it only gotworse when she was excited about an upcoming event. There was notime for necessities.

“So what’s the occasion?” Royasked and watched her pick out a mozzarella stick from his plate.

“My friend is getting married.” Riza said. “This weekend.”

“Usually you outsource the dancing ata bachelorette party.” Roy said. “Incredible dancing by theway, I had my doubts about your stability in a moving train car.”

Riza smiled. “Occupational hazard Iguess, why let someone else have the fun?”

“Is that what you do for a living?” Roy asked and she answered without any shame, she was quite contentwith her life choices. He liked that in a girl.

“Yes, we have a show at the GrandHotel..” Riza said and tried a fried dough ball. “I should saywe are the show.”

“Yeah, the Grand is a little above mypay grade.” He said.

“And what do you do Mr. Mustang?” She asked.

“I’m a journalist.” He answered. It was his standard response. It was close to what he did and itgave him a reason for watching, studying and traveling.

Riza was amazed that she could behaving a normal conversation with a man only five minutes after shehad danced on a bar top. Most men would have already been implyingthey were interested in a private showing, maybe this one just took alittle longer to get around to that. Too early to get her hopes up. “Are you heading to East City to cover the Olympics? I wastalking with those gentlemen over there who are on their way to somequalifiers for track and field.”

Roy turned around and looked at the menin question. God. They were all buff and ready to explode out oftheir shirts. He hoped that wasn’t her type. He had nice abs, butwas a long way from having biceps that could lift this train car offit’s tracks. “Uh, no. I’m going to Aquroya for a travel pieceabout the sinking city.”

“Really, that’s where my friend isgoing for her wedding!” Riza said and leaned over to whisper. “I’m having to plan this for her without much preparation. If youknow something about the city it would be a great help. I couldintroduce you to the Olympians over there if you want something thatmight get you published in a better section than Travel. Mr. Milesand Mr. Scar have some interesting stories. Mr. Havoc has thathometown hero thing going on for him.”

Roy cocked his head. He liked thatshe knew the value of articles in certain sections of the paper overothers. That showed promise, it wasn’t common knowledge. “I’m ona tight deadline, unfortunately, but I appreciate you trying to getme a some attention for a special interest piece versus the travelsection.”

“Least I can do for you saving myhair clip and sharing your food.” She smiled.

“I’d be happy to share my researchwith you about Aquroya, but at this point it’s all places of interestand history that you probably don’t care about.” He said. “Ijust realized I didn’t get your name.”

“Riza Hawkeye.” She said and puther hand out to shake. “It’s nice to meet you Roy….sorry yourlast name was?”

“Mustang.” He said and took herhand and gave it a kiss. He knew she was looking to shake, butthought the added flourish would hit a mark. He looked up and shewas blushing.

Riza wasn’t used to being treated likea lady, she was used to being looked down upon for being a showgirl. That was what Rebecca said had really made her think twice aboutAlex, he treated her like a goddess not a dancer. “I should getback to planning the wedding. Maybe I’ll see you again at dinner?”

It was Roy’s turn to blush. “I’dlike that very much. 6 pm?”

“Sounds early enough. Rebeccaprobably wants to party all night before this train reached it’sdestination.” Riza stood up. “I’ll see you tonight Mr.Mustang.”

xxxxxxx

The train made a few stops and he wasable to move around more when it did. Most stops were in excess oftwenty minutes because of train traffic and passengers woulddisembark to visit the local train depot or vendors to pass the time. It was at one of these stops when he was able to finally get theinformation he was here for thanks to Yoki, the mine owner.

He knew more about Yoki than Rebecca,mainly because the man was arrogant and a braggart and was trying touse his fortune to woo the pretty young showgirl in the quickestfashion he could. Time was limited for Yoki since he was on his wayback East and his wife was in their own car, he had to try to makeprogress with Rebecca whenever he could. It was a good thing Yokihad money because he sure didn’t have tact or a winning personality.

“Oh and in the mines it’s dangerous.“ Yoki played with his mustache. “Snakes, mine collapse. Terrible.”

The only snake here was him. Royrolled his eyes as he took out his camera and snapped some shots ofthe train from the windows.

Rebecca spun the postcard rack andsaid, “That’s terrible. Something so gorgeous always comes withsuch a heavy cost.”

“At least it’s just snakebites, wehave anti-venom to cure that.” Yoki said. “In some places theyhave snakes that will wrap around you and crush you.”

Roy moved around and tried to get abetter angle of them. It wouldn’t surprise him if Yoki offered toshow her the 'snake’ in his pants next. Rebecca jumped as Yoki ranover and wrapped his arms around her, and Roy snapped the pictures.

“Squeeze you just like this!”

Rebecca tried to laugh off the attemptto fondle her that was passed off as 'demonstration of python’sability to strangle it’s prey’. God, like she hadn’t been the victimof that 'snake attack’ before. Men were so fucking stupid.

Roy heard the 'all aboard’ and left thedepot with his camera in hand. He almost ran into Riza and theshock of that, of being almost caught taking an incriminating photoof her best friend, made him look guilty for a split second. Hecomposed himself and said. “I’m so sorry!”

Riza looked at the camera. Why did helook guilty? He was just taking travel pictures. “No I wasn’tlooking where I was going, my apologies Mr. Mustang.”

Roy pointed to the train, “Betterhurry up or you’ll be late to that wedding.”

“I have to get the bride.” Rizasaid and walked into the dept to see Yoki with his arms aroundRebecca and she stormed over. “Train is leaving, we need to go.”

xxxxxxxxxxx

“What do you mean he took pictures ofme?” Rebecca asked. “Shit! I bet Alex’s Dad had him follow me! He’s trying to stop the wedding!”

“Although I would ordinarily shootdown your jump to conclusions, I am inclined to say that is probablythe case. There is nothing in that town he should be taking photosof because it is a waste of film.” Riza pinched the bridge of hernose. “Why are you flirting with that idiot? WHY?”

“Men are dumb, they’ll just give youthings if they get some attention.” Rebecca replied honestly. “Diamonds are a girls best friend.”

“You have to stop this, you have tostop manipulating men for gifts. You’re getting married!” Rizasat down and sighed. “If we can figure out how to get that filmback.”

“Get him drunk. Get the film back.” Rebecca said. “That man likes you. Bring him back here andsearch him for that film. He’ll have it on him if it’s reallyimportant.”

“Why is this my mission?” Riza asked. “This is your mess?”

“Because you’re my best friend andI..screwed up.”

“Fine.” Riza said and closed hereyes. “I really liked him.”

“Well he’s taking pictures of meand…that’s shady.”

“And you are flirting and lettingsome nasty mine mogul put his hands on you when you are gettingmarried in three days.” Riza said. “This is exactly whythe Armstrongs are worried about you. Dammit Rebecca, we’re nothaving to do this to survive anymore. You have something good,don’t ruin it.”

“Old habits are hard to break.” She replied. “I promise, I’ll stop. Please…please get thatfilm back.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“What is with you girls and buyshots?” Roy asked as he held another round of whiskey in front ofhimself and rubbed his eyes. He appreciated that he had beeninvited to the private train car for dinner with Riza, skeptical ashe was about her motive, but had quickly been suckered into a cardgame. He was losing. Riza was quite the poker player and he wasfinding out she had an incredibly high tolerance for alcohol.

“It’s part of my job.” Riza saidand put down another winning hand. “They don’t pay me for singingand dancing, they pay me for bringing in the patrons and encouragingthem to spend money.”

“I get it.” Roy waved and realizedhe was going to have to drink this as a price to pay for losing ahand. Why couldn’t it be strip poker? He’d show those damnedOlympians what real abs look like. “My Mom owns a bar. I grew upthere.”

“Really?” Riza asked as he finallydrank and she watched him close his eyes and swallow. She liked himmore and more, which made it hard for her to follow through with hermission.

“Yes.” Roy said and put the shotglass down. “Not as classy as the Grand. Not as reputable. Christmas’s Bar, every hear of it?”

“Actually I have.” Riza said. His Mom owned a brothel? Dear god, no wonder he wasn’t judgmental. “We send frustrated men there when they learn we’re not for saleand the hotel concierge will arrange for the girls there to visitwith guests.”

“Yes.” Roy nodded and his headhurt. “They do that.”

“You look like you need to lay down.”

“Yes.” Roy replied and stood andwobbled a little. He didn’t even realize Riza was beside him beforeshe took his arm. “You really are good at cards.”

“You should see me play chess.” Shesaid.

“God…are you even real?” Heasked and she helped him over to the couch. “You’re beautiful,atheltic and smart and I can’t even be mad you lured me here and gotme drunk.”

She put a pillow on the couch andpushed him back onto it. “You saw though it and still came?”

As she leaned over him and he smiled. God she was beautiful. “I thought you were keeping me busy whileyour friend searched my room.”

“I…knew the film would be valuableand you wouldn’t store it there.” She said and started to friskhim. She started with his shirt pockets and hated herself forfeeling the muscles underneath and wishing this was on differentterms. “So who are you really? Do you work for the socialsection of the paper?”

“No.” Roy replied honestly as sheworked her way down his shirt and he remained powerless to toanything about it. The alcohol hit him hard. It was good shit.The Armstrongs didn’t spend money on any less. Her hands felt nicethough. “I’m a private eye.”

“A dick?” She asked as she ran herhand over his pant pocket and then blushed realizing the doublemeaning behind it all.

“No, that’s on the left. You’refondling film.”

She put her hand in his pocket andgrabbed the roll of film and leaned closer to him. His eyes werewatery and glazed over, his breath stank of booze and he looked sohelpless. “I meant 'Dick’ as in Private detective.”

“Yes, that too.” He replied andtried to move, but knew if he did he’s just get sick. The alcoholand the movement of the train was not a good combination. A terriblething to feel while underneath a beautiful woman.

She palmed the film out and then placeda light kiss on his lips. “I have to save my best friend. Thiswill ruin her and it’s not what is happening.”

“She’s lucky to have you watching outfor her.” He said and closed his eyes to succumb to the effects ofdrinking way too much.

Riza gave him another kiss andwhispered, “I wish would could have been in this position underdifferent circumstances. I really do like you, Roy Mustang.”

#fic #royai #gentlemen prefer blondes au

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