#i keep seeing that scene in edits and like YOU ARE LYING SIR
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“This time I won’t save your life”
100% Armand spent the entire time leading up to and during Daniel’s time in Dubai speed-reading any and all literature on Parkinson’s he can get his claws on, he and Louis have canonically highjacked his medical care, Armand-as-Rashid has probs personally signed off on every single meal Daniel has eaten, he materialises out of thin fucking air every time Louis twitches in Daniel’s general direction and I would not put it past him to be monitoring the guy’s heart-rate 24/7 via super-vampire-hearing alone.
But sure dude, whatever helps you not-sleep I guess
#i keep seeing that scene in edits and like YOU ARE LYING SIR#like bare-faced shameless lying#about a great many things but THAT specifically#armand adding ‘hipaa violations’ to his wrap sheet like the stalker he is#armand#vampire armand#daniel molloy#devil’s minion#armandaniel#amc iwtv#iwtv 2022#interview with the vampire
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deleted scene/former draft of how the meeting between reo and reader from stars you only see during the day went LOL. Warning that this is half-edited and half-written!!!!
“I would have to think about it, Takei-san,” someone—probably Mikage—replies. You crane your head, just in time to catch the look of a boy with a flute of fizzy water in his hand. He’s cute, with uneven bangs and a dove gray suit, and probably around your age, if not a little older.
Your staring doesn’t go unnoticed. He inclines his head, smiles at you, and waves you over. Suddenly, everyone’s stares are on you for the first time that day, the boy’s attention stronger than a lighthouse. “Those shrimp look good.”
“Thanks. I didn’t make them,” you say, then kick yourself. Curse your smart mouth. With rich folk like these, it’s better to just keep silent.
The boy— Mikage— laughs. “Then you have to thank the chef for me.” He delicately scoops up one of the shrimp with his forefinger and thumb. The crowd is silent as he partakes, before a wave of hands rush toward your platter as Mikage swallows.
“It does look good, you’re right, Mikage-san!”
“You have such impeccable taste.”
“I’ve always had a fondness for shrimp myself!”
You smile tightly as you’re jostled by the sudden onslaught, elbows bumping into your sides as you’re crowded. Ah. Mikage had probably done this on purpose— waved you over to get the attention off of him. You were nothing but a sacrifice in the process.
Takei, the man who had been rude to you initially— you refuse to use honorifics with someone like him— grabs at the shrimp. “Give me some,” he snaps.
“I can go get refills—” you begin, but he snatches the platter, making you stumble.
Mikage, looking a bit regretful at shoving you into the swarm of sharks, starts to come closer, the glass still in his hand. “I’m sure there’s more than enough food for everyone, so why don’t we —”
Takei tries to yank the platter from your hands, treating like you’re nothing but an inconvenient pest on his way to suck up to Mikage, and you struggle to hold on. Mikage draws closer, and he’s right by your side when Takei finally wrestles the platter from your hands, and you collide with Mikage. He grabs your elbow, trying to steady you, but it’s too late— the two of you go down, his expensive drink sloshing over both of you as you grab at the table cloth nearby in a vain attempt for stability— but of course, that only sends you, Mikage and the tablecloth flying to the ground in a tangled heap. You screw your eyes shut, preparing for impact.
A few seconds pass before you realize you’re not in any sort of pain at all. In fact, the ground under you is really soft. And warm. And— oh shit. You open your eyes to come face to face with Mikage, who you’re lying on top of. The hall is deathly silent, a silence that crawls on your skin.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— I didn’t realize— sir, just let me—” You attempt to rise, hands fumbling at the ground for purchase.
“No, it’s okay, you didn’t do it on purpose—” Mikage tries to placate you, but, as you rise, you bump into the table next to you, hard enough to send it crashing over, expensive ceramic plates and vase filled with beautiful tropical flowers cracking on the floor.
Only one thought flashes through your mind as the guests finally gasp and murmur at the damage. You’re so screwed.
“What an unmannered servant. Who hired them?”
“And to injure Mikage-san like that. Surely the family will ask for compensation.”
“How dreadful! It would be much deserved.”
You’re still standing numbly in the center of it all when someone grabs at your wrist, hard enough to bruise. “Tch. They shouldn’t have let people like you in here in the first place. Let’s see what the manager of your shitty little catering joint has to say about this behavior.” It’s Takei. He just can’t let up, can he? Asshole. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be in this situation at all.
Your free hand twitches. Would the consequences of slapping him right here and now truly be that terrible? It’s not like you could dig the hole you were in any deeper.
Just as you contemplate going through with slapping Takei, Mikage cuts in front of the two of you. “Takei-san,” he says, smiling, when his eyes are anything but. “I think you should let them go. They didn’t mean to do anything like that.”
“Hah? But they embarrassed you, Mikage. In front of everyone. They should get punished at least.”
“It was an accident. It was my fault, too, don’t you think? For not providing a better venue and… [smooth explanation here]”
“But—”
“You want to blame Mikage corporation for all of this?”
Takei pales. “N-no, Mikage-san. I see your point.”
[transition somehow here]
Mikage wasn’t as bad as you thought. He had saved you back there, after all. For a sheltered trust fund baby, he’s pretty cool. Is there something you could for him in return? You open your mouth to thank him when Mikage whirls around, eues shining likes he’s hit upon a brilliant ideas.
“Go out with me,” he says earnestly.
Your jaw drops. Ah. Never mind. You were right in your initial assessment: there really is something wrong with rich people. This boy clearly has a few screws lose.
#liya drabbles#blue lock#mikage reo#mikage reo x reader#x reader#I wanted to post this as a special when i posted the original fic#then forgor#BUT HERE IT IS BABY!! WOO!#u can also see a little of my writing process HAHA
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Random prompt generator pt1!! ~Bakugo edition~
I used a random prompt generator and I ended up with this prompt!!
Bakugo x Hitman reader with a strict moral code!
Having a personality like Bakugo's, he was bound to have enemies and people praying for his downfall. But hating the man so much you hire a hitman? What did this man do to deserve this? You were getting paid quite a lot, so you'd be stupid to reject the offer but the question still remained. Your job was incredibly dehumanizing, taking someone else's life because of some cash? Witnessing their agony and screams firsthand, watching a person take their final breath and curse you. It wasn't the most fun job. But it's what put food on the table for you and your little sister. However, you had rules, it didn't matter how much money you were being paid, you wouldn't kill a kid, nor would you kill someone who didn't deserve it. In order to figure out for yourself if your target was innocent or not, you had to go undercover to find out for yourself. Which is how you ended up as his sidekick...
"What good are you if you can't keep up with me?" The blonde hero scoffed in your face. You could see why he was on a hit list. His short temper and bluntness made people uncomfortable, and since he had both physical and social power, there wasn't anything anyone could do to change his attitude.
"I'm new to all of this sir, unlike you I didn't come from a Hero school." You sigh, explaining to him for the 5th time why you weren't able to move like he did.
He gets a notification telling him there's a crime going on nearby and he's gone before you can blink. When you got there you saw a villain holding a hostage, a little girl, maybe 5. Police surrounded the scene, and Bakugo stood 30ish feet in front of the villain. Talking?
"What's so important about this little brat? It's not like anyone cared for her before I took her, Orphaned and homeless. And you call yourself a hero. I should just put her out of her misery.." The villain goes on and on. He wasn't wrong, the whole reason you became a hitman was that you felt the hero society was corrupted.
You watch Dynamite, wanting to see how he responds to the remarks. Would he try and protect his pride? You thought that seemed fitting from what you'd seen, but you were surprised.
"Your right. We gotta fuckin' do better. But who went and made you some sort of god? Get your head outta your goddamn ass. The kid did nothin, leave her outta this. If you got an issue," he cracked his Knuckles, smirking menacingly, "Feel free to talk with me, I'm always looking for some practice."
Dynamite ended up apprehending the villain. But you were a little concerned for the little girl. So you followed him, even after he set you home, you followed in secret. You watched as the big pro hero held the hand of the little girl and walked to the city council to find any sort of paperwork on the girl. You watched how he took her home for the night and called one of his friends to watch her while he stayed up all night at the office. Working to find any trace of this girl's family. And you also saw how the next morning the blonde dropped off the girl at her only alive relative's house. And checked in for the next few days to make sure everything was alright.
You'd be lying if you said you weren't touched by how much he cared and how took the villain's words into consideration, or how you'd be sad to kill him. You'd also be lying if you said that the thought of him didn't bring heat to your cheeks...
I'm so so so sorry for not posting, I've been going through a pretty rough time but I'm back! tysm for your support!! and lmk if you like the random generator idea, I really enjoyed making this short fic!
#~girliewrites~#bnha#mha#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugo#kasuki bakugo#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bakugo fluff#bakugou#mha fic#bakugo fic#prompt generator
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relationship scramble?
this one’s basically a fleabag au with wilbur playing the role of fleabag. he and his best friend niki ran a bakery but like. six years prior wilbur left to try and become a politician and failed. badly. and ended up coming back but niki was already gone by then, tired of waiting for wilbur to come back bc he promised he would, at least to visit, but he got stuck in his own mind blah blah blah. she now works as like a campaign speech writer/consultant and wilbur is miserable and alone working at a bakery (his ass cannot bake) and has like no fucking money.
this also got too long so under the cut
the story starts at like a family lunch type deal. phil is in town for the first time in a while, he’s been traveling with his wife, kristin, who wilbur does not know that well and so does not fully trust. tubbo (wilbur's brother) and ranboo (tubbo's husband) are there as well, and technoblade (phil’s business partner/best friend who now 90% takes care of the company bc phil’s away), sally (wilbur’s ex-wife who he got pregnant at 16, subsequently had a baby with, and then they realized they were much better off friends but unfortunately they’d already had the marriage, the baby, and all of the subsequent disappointments. so they don’t really talk anymore. except for at family events or when wilbur is really, really drunk), fundy (wilbur’s 18 year old son wilbur hasn’t directly spoken to since wilbur tried to kill himself), and dream who is there as wilbur’s date but has been ignoring him to talk to technoblade. oh also michael is probably eating paste in the other room or something.
and a lot of shit happens but namely dream dumps wilbur for like the 100th time and tubbo offers wilbur money to keep his bakery afloat and wilbur lies to phil so so much and literally everyone knows he's lying except for phil.
the fic is crimeboys centric bc of who i am as a person and it’s basically like. tommy comes barging in demanding a job and wilbur at first is like “fuck no” but actually i’ll just post the scene keep in mind it's not edited blah blah blah
—-
“No, we’re not a new restaurant,” Wilbur says into the phone. Most calls are people asking that same question because of the name, Name Pending, that Wilbur and Niki thought was fucking hilarious six years ago. Now, Wilbur wants to ring their quirky little necks. “The name is just an inside joke. Yes, we’re open. Until 6pm. Because we’re a bakery, sir.”
The bell rings as the door opens. Wilbur doesn’t really need the bell because he can see with 100% clarity when people come in, but he and Niki thought it would add that touch of authenticity. As the customer continues to rant about wanting cookies at 7pm, a grimy-looking man walks in. Well, his skin isn’t grimy but his clothes are. Wilbur wonders how one can conceivably get that many stains on a shirt.
Wilbur hangs up the phone despite the customer still speaking and says, “Welcome in. What can I get for you today?”
“A job,” the man says. “If you’ve got one, I need a job. Badly.” Wilbur can afford to keep this place running maybe two months more.
“Well, I’m sorry but you’d probably have better luck-”
“No!” The man shouts, and Wilbur straightens up a bit in his shock. “No, no, no because that's what the lady at the supermarket said.”
“You got rejected by the lady at the supermarket?” They’ve got terrible turnover there. And thieves. This guy’s resume must be shit.
“Yeah, then I went to the bookstore, then the arcade, then the fucking thrift. All of them said, you’ll have better luck down the street!”
“Well,” Wilbur says with a shrug. “London.”
“Oh, fuck London.” Wilbur agrees. “Look, I really just- I just need a job, alright?”
“Yes, but I haven’t got one to give you.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I just prefer to work alone.” A lie. Wilbur misses the loud mornings of baking and music, crooning and dancing with Niki as they laughed, Wilbur always stealing at least one cookie per batch. Mornings with himself are loud in the bad way.
“Okay. I prefer having a job, personally,” the man slaps a paper on the counter. Wilbur bends over to skim it. Oh, nevermind, there are hardly 20 words. It would be hard to skim any more than that.
RESUME:
Name: Tommy Innit
Prior Job: ONLY Man Ever
Expected Pay: 200 dollars per hour
“Right,” Wilbur says. He folds his hands on the counter. “I’m not giving you 200 dollars an hour.”
“We can negotiate. 199.99 isn’t terrible.”
“You ever heard of minimum wage?”
“Ever heard of knowing your worth?” Wilbur’s eye twitches.
“What could you even bring to the table? You have any skills? Anything that would amount to earning 200 dollars an hour?” Tommy squints, like this question has never occurred to him.
“Work.”
“But what can you do?”
“Work.”
“If you can’t even answer a simple question-”
“Just tell me what to do, I’ll do it! I don’t care what it is.”
“Have you ever baked? Have you ever cleaned?”
“I can figure it out!”
“Sorry, was that a no on the cleaning thing?” Looking at Tommy’s clothes, Wilbur would wager so.
“Just give me a chance!” Wilbur is not at the fucking place he can just give people chances right now. He’s going out of business, he just got dumped by Dream for the upteenth fucking time, and his little brother had the audacity to offer him money not 24 hours ago. He does not want to garner another fucking loss.
“Why won’t anyone hire you?” Tommy groans.
“Fuck’s it matter?”
“Color me curious.”
“Fuckin’- not a lot of places take ex-cons.” Well, that’s certainly something. That should probably make Wilbur’s choice even easier. But Tommy looks determined, Wilbur might be a little manic right now, and he’s tired of eating burnt fucking cinnamon rolls.
“Make a cookie and I’ll think about it.” Tommy blinks.
“What, seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“Like, right now?”
“You got any other job interviews?” Wilbur points a thumb to the actual kitchen. “Have at.”
---
here are my notes for some of the relationships in this fic i didnt touch on too heavy uhh
quackity is a political consultant that wilbur has a very aggravating situationship with ← they just meet up a couple times a month to get drinks and piss each other off and then not have sex. this is both incredibly frustrating and also definitely part of it for both of them.
dream is wilbur’s “mutually beneficial” kind-of ex. when wilbur feels like he’s spiraling out of control, he tends to gravitate toward dream who is fine with it because he’s obsessed with control and also technoblade who he gets to hang out with if he’s “dating” wilbur. literally no one is actually sure whether they’re actually together when they’re going out but that’s fine, wilbur would die if he put any sort of label on any of his relationships, plus their trysts don’t last long and they have actually never been physically in a room alone together.
tubbo is wilbur's little brother who is married to ranboo and they have a kid, michael, and wilbur spends a lot of time being just a little bit bitter that his little brother is more successful than him but also tubbo is kind of erm. miserable he hates being a stay at home dad (he loves his son, he loves his husband, he misses Doing Things and shit) and the walls of his home feel more like a box and yeah. also tubbo offers wilbur money like right at the beginning of the story bc it’s Obvious the bakery is about to go under and wilbur is mad about that bc well. issues.
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Mentopolis Ep 3! We have life things so this is late but we press on
Freddie said the whole thing!
Just a damp damp man 😐
Once again. We need Stacy Fakename merch pls.
I love the wonkaness of Gobstopper Industries
IT MOVES
The heart being the Boston to the brain’s New York is interesting
Phrenology lmao
I slap him. I kiss him.
Hunch keeping so much stuff in his pants is such a Choice
I really think it’s a phone buzzing and not a sexy thing because Elias is so convinced he doesn’t deserve pleasure that I don’t he would do that
If not ___, ___? is such a great sequence I’m gonna rewatch that several times probably
Turn yourself in to who???
Every part of the brain can notice conscience but pleasure. Sometimes the dice do really cool things.
The Fix being vaguely southern always cracks me up
Conrad not wanting to say fucks aw
He’s the only one who can DRIVE
Bro WHAT
Hank why
Ooh yay psychometer info
This thing could alter thoughts. Ok.
Evillll
I love lengthy lore drops. I love them so much.
That wave is designed to create impulses maybe?
The editing is simultaneously really cool and gonna give me a headache
This thing erases color from the mind? Does it erase memory?
This boiling down to ‘has the government been corrupted by external capitalist forces or was the already corrupt government merely enabled by this capitalist presence’ is incredibly interesting
Cool! Very convenient!
OH the reflexive switchboard yay
F for freezer!
Hunch why do you wanna see Anastasia’s apartment
Trapp is so great I don’t think I’ve appreciated him enough
I think killing the conscience will probably not save the life of someone who has been thrown out of a window
Hank what
“It’s about what happens when you’re the next age” I’m gonna cry?
What
Babe what
(a ballad of balls on tracks)
Oooh does the Fucks family also have keys
(everyone getting a kick out of the foot fetish joke)
Hank jostling Freddie because he’s so delighted <3
Splitting the partyyyyyy
fLiGhT 😉
Uncle Hunch and Uncle Fucks 🥲
Dome!
So many hats!
Imelda Pulse supportive cousin of the year <3
The cops. Great.
Something that ladies wear … …
Imelda Pulse coat rack of the year <3
Oh nooo
She’s just sooo estranged from her faaaamily she doesn’t know her cousiiiins
The commitment Siobhan has keeping her arms like that for the whole scene
The Police 😐
Incredible sneak skills
Threw a robe over her trench coat I’m dead
Yeah a newspaperwoman would have to get pretty good at lying lol
Iconic trio
Why is he the only one who can drive 😭
He really just lives to make people uncomfortable
Oooh d20 explosion
Why does he drive like that
BRENNAN WHY IS THAT YOUR DEFAULT ROCK
Put that tongue back in your mouth SIR.
(group trying to hold back laughter to keep it tense…)
(and failing)
The word fight is losing all meaning
I was gonna say Gilear energy but he’s honestly more confident than Gilear.
Self doubt is so strong and dominance is so weak.
I feel like dominance being weak is a trick tho. It feels too simple.
Also. Self Doubt isn’t even a pun of any kind his name is just straight up his job.
I just was busy.
Why is fight russian
Conrad is so sassy today
IVANA POPOV
What
The fuck just happened
The poor Fakename family
Box of Doom!!
The one thing that always bugs me is the box is never level and I don’t know if that affects how the die rolls
What a power
YEAH BABY
How are the fakenames even a family. What concept are they.
Dice are cool
One of those inflatable clowns that are weighted at the bottom so they bounce up whenever you hit them
(the crowd goes wild for Stacy Fakename)
I love character feats!
Flight was in control when Elias got hurt. Interesting.
I love how Hunch just has cartoon logic
I also forget that I’m playing and not just watching a story sometimes
You like my facts right?
FACT ALERT
PELICAN FACT ALERT
Oh god
Hank leaning into being intimidating is so good to watch
Man. Okay.
Oh that’s so cool. Focusing on breathing lowers the pressure. That’s so good.
What are you close to achieving
That’s SO fucked up
What
Who are you
What
Is this fucking adderall or something
Probably the psychometer. But it would be an interesting take for it to be meds lol.
BRENNAN.
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saw first time viewing livewatch thoughts
* adam is so transgender <3
* oh so the quality of my ill eagle copy isn’t that bad it’s just that the lights were off lol
* his name is lawrence gordon. he’s a DOCTOR
* mr elwes sir please stop mumbling my autistic ears cannot hear your
* MR FAULKNER STANHEIGHT IS A WHOWERE. WHY DID YOU SHOW HIM YOUR TIT
* aha lawrence is t posing :)
* adam. my widdle boy
* lawrence telling him to take his shirt off 👀
* GSMSHSKWYKSBSKSUWLHD JOHN IS SUCH A BITCH
* I KNOW EVERYONE IN THE FANDOM CALLS ADAM PATHETIC BUT GOD
* john mulaney hmm gross!.jpeg
* okay but i WOULD have checked under the toilet lid first. the things you’ll do for an older man 😔
* these two are so bad at playing catch. the kids who didn’t run the mile representation
* if i could see cary elwes’ eyebrows better i’d find him s*xier
* JOHN KRAMER I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF. I HATE THIS MAN I CANNOT STAND THIS MAN
* so the editing really IS like that huh
* yes he IS a murderer you stupid son of a bitch. there is no “technically” about it you fucking idiot
* we’ve got two bitches from lost my beloved :)
* THAT’S THE PRESIDENT FROM THE BLACKLIST TOO
* all of sing’s clothes are too big for him. small man :)
* MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY MANDY
* PLEASE GOD I LOVE HER I LOVE HER SO FUCKING MUCH I’LL CRY
* i knew that the editing was like THAT but not that MUCH ya know goddamn
* oh a giallo style shot. lov that <3
* MISS SHAWNEE SMITH DESERVES EVERY AWARD ACTUALLY
* motherfucker on his liddol tricycle
* i would piss on that fucking puppet
* futurama they must learn our peaceful ways by force.jpeg
* that’s just john’s vibe
* i wonder how much of saw inspired the batman arkham games thinking emoji
* how am i only half an hour way through
* tbh i want this kid’s duvet not kidding
* girl you in DANGER
* and i want that big snake :)
* HE’S NOT PLAYING THIS LITTLE PIGGY. NOT IN A MOVIE WHEREIN PEOPLE DON PIG MASKS BC THEIR REPRESENT REBIRTH AND PEOPLE ARE CONTINUOUSLY CUTTING THEIR FEET OFF. MR WHANNEL I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH YOU
* “she’s beautiful” he’s taking about the dog BSBNSYSLAYSLSBLSU
* “where’s the. uh lucky wife” and you mean to tell me that adam isn’t a homosexual when he looks at lawrence like that while saying this line
* “i’m always missing from the photos” oh sir i’ve been on saw tumblr just you wait for the dramatic irony to hit just you WAIT
* oh god i though jigsaw wrote a slur in there good GOD
* very billy from black christmas vibes, harold finch from person of interest :)
* excuse me mr tapp but who’s amy and why do you have her starbucks order
* OOOOOOOHHHH FUNKY TRANSITION
* james wan you are such a KING
* “who said anything about a warrant?” sir that’s illegal
* sir that’s breaking and entering
* sir that’s a LOT of paperwork that you won’t be able to complete bc you’ll be dead soon but STILL
* did jigsaw plan on lawrence wearing blue or was that a funny coincidence lol
* john’s wearing his bathrobe
* HIS ASSASSINS CREED BATHROBE HOLY SHIT
* ooh slidey door. wonder if there’ll be more of those later on teehee hoo hoo
* somebody show tapp the “that’s not your depression bed; that’s your nest omega” tiktok and see if that does anything
* “what do you want me to do? i’m on a leash” DOGBOY ADAM DOGBOY ADAM DOGBOY ADAM
* “you wanna put something in this room in your mouth?” “YES!!!!!!” are these lines from fanfiction verbatim
* adam you’re so fuckin stupid why would you spy on a man but keep the flash of your camera on
* OOOOOOOOOOH IT’S THE CINEMATIC PIG CARPARK SCENE
* “whatEVER” “i’m dealing with a juvenile.....” this is what happens when you have a sugar baby lawrence
* INFAMOUS ADAM GENDER SMOKING FAKE DEATH BREAKDANCE SCENE LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO
* little dogboy twink photographers have me in a perpetual chokehold they really do
* i mean he’ll waste a lot of film but. okay i guess this is a horror movie after all gsmshsksynbsmahsp
* BEATS THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR GAY LITTLE PUPPET WITH MY BAT
* oh adam really is serving jonathan byers teas with the baseball bat and the camera as weapons. fuck
* cary elwes posh little accent coming THROUGH
* adam doesn’t make sense as cis man. he just doesn’t look at that man he’s so transgender
* ok but lawrence’s “mistress” is GORGEOUS actually omg
* i’m still gonna say that he’s gay tho. u can’t take that away form me lol
* adam’s wrists are so LIMP holy shit
* lawrence gordon classist moments
* mr elwes please control your accent sir i’m struggling not to laugh
* ok ally’s a girlboss then !
* michael emerson my beloved. when you try to be evil you have all the menace of a disgruntled bunny rabbit
* “lawrence get up! i need you!” now when you fuckers told me these two were gay you didn’t say THIS gay
* at least ally and diana are ok :)
* ok my headcanon is that lawrence is originally from england but was moved to america as a kid bc i need in contextual reasons for all of the accent slips that i can’t take seriously
* ADAM GIRLBOSS MOMENT
* “don’t worry i’ll bring someone back i promise” YOU LYING TRICK ASS MOTHERFUCKER I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF /j /affectionate
* at least john’s got that ARCH
* IT’S THE SCENE IT’S THE SCENE
* god that movie fucked. that movies fucked SO hard good god no wonder gay people love it
* ok i think that ill league gull copy broke my laptop lol
#BRO I’M SWEATING THAT WAS SO GOOD HOLY SHIT YEA#gonna try to fix my laptop now lol <33#saw#adam faulkner stanheight#lawrence gordon#john kramer#amanda young#zep hindle#david tapp#steven sing#alison gordon#diana gordon#chainshipping#mine#long post#ns/fw#i haven’t gif a clue what half of this says but <3#*got i haven’t GOT a clue#if you got this far. i am high-fiving you and interlocking our fingers <3
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Leaving Him, Finding Her
Professor! Aizawa Shouta x Fem! Student! Reader
College AU
***18+ Fic***
If you are not 18 please make your way to the nearest exit, thank you and enjoy the rest of your day.
Warnings: smutty smut, HEAVY DADDY KINK, DD/LG dynamic, Daddy Dom Aizawa, complete sub reader, a temporary collar cuz I have a thing for collars (don’t come @ me, a real collar was too big a commitment to put in a forbidden hookup), praise kink in here, light oral (female receiving), bondage, shibari, unprotected sex, Aizawa being softer than a baby’s bottom, angst, fluff
Word count: 4.6 k
Author’s Note: Alright, ngl I cried writing the end to this cause I’m a little bitch when it comes to the softness after angst. Like, the only thing that makes me cry more than a sad ending is a happy one, and writing these scenes as they pley out is making me absolutely fucking weak. Also, my daddy and praise kinks are beaming, and so is my absolute love for aftercare. I’m lowkey super proud of this one, I’m a sucker for soft doms.
Update: I'm editing it. Timestamp: 3:23 am Fri, May 14. (Very minimal) Editing completed: 4:20 am Fri, May 14.
Enjoy the read~
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He's beautiful. Ruggedly handsome in every way. Long, wavy, raven locks pulled into a slightly messy bun, revealing the scruff kept just barely tame on his strong jawline and chin. The dark circles under obsidian bloodshot eyes did nothing to steal from his allure. The scar under his eye and a frame too muscular for a simple college professor made you wonder what he’d done before lecturing in your physics class. It also had you wondering other things.
‘(y/l/n)’
What exactly did all that muscle look like? What did it feel like? Running your fingers down his neck and chest, trailing down his abdomen. Or crawling your hands up his legs, caressing his thick, muscled thighs. At night your thoughts ran rampant with images of your physics professor. A very naked professor, to be specific. And you had a title for him that you’d never want to reveal outside of your dorm bedroom.
‘Miss (y/l/n)’
What did he look like under the white dress shirt that was just slightly tight over his chest? And his pants that were fitted perfectly around his thick legs. You're experienced enough to know how submissive you are, and you wonder if he’d be a good dom, wonder if you could be a good enough sub for him. What did it feel like to have him bend you over his desk? Or tie you up as he ravaged your body? What did it feel like to let him have his way with you, to give him control…
“Miss (y/l/n)!”
You jump, immediately snapped back to reality, and recognize who had called your name. Your words came tumbling out without a second thought.
“Yes da-” you catch yourself, “Mr. Aizawa!... Yes, Mr. Aizawa?” Your face burned and your eyes shot wide at the fact that you’d nearly just called him the title from your fantasies. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice, and neither did any of your other classmates.
“If you aren’t paying attention perhaps the material is not challenging enough for you?” You swallow and shake your head.
“No, sir! I’m just a little tired, that’s all! I’ll be more attentive.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve been distracted during class. See me during office hours.”
With that he continued with the lecture on centripetal force. You groan inwardly, though you only have yourself to blame.
Your grades hadn’t slipped, even if you were zoning out in class. Mr. Aizawa hit the nail on the head when he asked if the material wasn’t difficult enough for you. You’d studied physics before, it was simple for you, and you only needed to ask for notes from your classmates to be sure you did the work the way your professor wanted it to be done. The only reason you’d been enrolled in the class was because it was a requirement, and it was your last year so you had to take it. If it weren’t for your smoking hot professor you’d have hated every second you needed to sit in the lecture hall. He released the class, and you quickly packed up and left, not seeing the darkness in your professor’s eyes as he watched you leave.
It's dark by the time you still back onto campus, Mr. Aizawa’s office hours are strangely extremely late. There's no movement in the dark hallways, the only light coming from underneath Mr. Aizawa’s office door as you approach. The fact that the institution is large enough to give every teacher their own office is beginning to bother you, your overactive imagination getting the better of you.
After a breath, you knock lightly, answered by a muffled, 'Come in'. Another breath. You twist the handle and step into the office, and the man mumbles, 'Close the door behind you please'. You oblige, though your heart is beating out of your chest.
“You wanted to see me, professor?” He hums, eyes flicking up to you as he sets a red pen down on the desk.
“Yes, miss (y/l/n). You haven’t been paying attention in my lectures.” You look down at your hands clasped in front of you, nerves and shame beginning to eat at your resolve.
“I apologize, I’ve been tired lately,” you lie, sticking with your story from earlier.
“And yet you have one of the highest grades in the class.” You keep your eyes glued to your hands, which are now fidgeting nervously. The silence is beginning to nag at your mind, your nerves buzzing.
“I think you’re lying to me.” Your eyes widen momentarily, then you force a confused expression as you look up at your professor.
“I’m not sure what you mean…” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows holding his weight on his desk.
“I mean I think you’re distracted for other reasons. If you were struggling to sleep it would be evident. I’m a prime example,” he motions to his face. You bite the inside of your lip, your heart thumping loud in your ears.
“W-what other reasons would I be distracted?” He stands up and slowly makes his way around his desk, stopping mere inches in front of you. The close proximity has your breath shallowing and your heart pounding. You keep your eyes locked onto his, something akin to fear - no, maybe it's closer to obedience - not letting you look away. He narrows his eyes at you, a skeptical but knowing look.
“Don’t think I didn’t catch that little title you let slip in class earlier.” Your eyes blow wide, your breath hitching in your throat. He walked to the door, locked it and walked back to you, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“I d-don’t…” Your words fall short when he leans down, his breath hot on your ear and neck.
“Don’t lie. What was it you almost called me?” Your body shook, your breaths jagged, but you don't answer. At your silence, he nearly growled in your ear. His left arm snakes around your waist, pulling your body into his. His right hand comes up under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
“Answer me, kitten.” The commanding tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. You take a small breath before closing your eyes and answering.
“D-daddy. I...almost called you daddy.” He hums, the sound rumbling through your body.
“Open your eyes. Look at me.” You obey nearly instantly, swallowing as you meet his gaze. He let out a small sigh, words ghosted from his lips.
“Good girl.” The praise makes your entire body shudder, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Now, tell me why you would call your professor ‘daddy’ so automatically.” You felt your face burn, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your veins.
“I… I think about you… at night…” He tilts his head and quirks a brow, urging you to continue. Your voice is shaky, your eyes struggling to keep eye contact as you reveal your darkest secrets to the man at the center of them.
“I call you daddy when I’m alone in bed…”
“Or when you’re in the middle of a lecture.” You bite your bottom lip and nod as he finishes your sentence.
“Such a naughty little girl, aren’t you. What should you say when you do something wrong?” You swallow thickly, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry.” His hand under your jaw turns and grips it hard, just enough to make you wince.
“I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes widen and your jaw quivers. Is he asking what you think he is?
“I-I’m sorry… Daddy." His grip on your jaw loosens as he turns your face to the side, leaning in and leaving a kiss under your ear.
“That's right. Such a good girl.” Your body shakes again, the feeling of his scruff on your cheek, his lips on your skin, and his voice in your ear, making your body react on its own.
“Do you have classes tomorrow, kitten?” You search your brain for the information he’s asking for, closing your eyes in concentration. After a few moments, you find the answer.
“N-no…” He pulls completely away from you, moving behind his desk and leaving you dazed. You watch, your body still recovering from whatever just happened, as he gathers his belongings. He holds the door open, turning to you.
“Come now kitten.” You blink at him, your mind trying to make sense of the situation. You follow him anyway, letting your body move on its own.
He’s a few steps ahead of you, and you follow him as he walks to his car, opening the passenger door. You get in, not quite able to question what’s happening, but trusting the man regardless. Soon the car pulls into a driveway, and you get out and follow the black haired man into the house, still dazed. His voice brings your attention to him, his hand under your chin again.
“Do you want this, kitten?” You nod.
“Use your voice, pretty girl.” God, hearing the praise is making your head spin.
“Yes. I want you Daddy.” His thumb strokes your cheek idly, grounding you in the moment.
“Good girl. Do you know what a safeword is?” You nod, the concept is more than familiar.
“Yes Daddy.”
“Do you have one?” Another nod.
“Gemini.” His hand lifts your chin gently as he leans down and slots his lips against yours. Your body relaxes, sinking into the kiss, focused on the sensations of his touch. His lips are soft, gentle, and his hands smooth down your back, landing on your hips.
He separates from you, looking down at your half-lidded eyes and blissed out state. You're already slipping into subspace. Your mind is floating, wanting to zero in on something. Anything. Your eyes aren’t quite focused, searching Aizawa’s face for a focal point. He recognizes that look. You need a platform to stand on, an anchor, and you need it desperately. He grabs your wrist and pulls you along behind him. He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a small, but sturdy, black fabric choker. A play collar. Moving behind you, he loops it around you and clasped it at the back of your neck. When it's secure, he quickly moves in front of you and loops his finger under the material, giving a gentle tug. You shudder and take a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed. It was enough. He hums, stroking your cheek gently.
“Is that better kitty?” You open your eyes to look up into his, and he swears there are hearts shining in them.
“Yes. Thank you daddy.” He pulls you into another kiss, this one more passionate. When his tongue licked at your lips you let your mouth fall open, his tongue searching the wet cavern fervently. He pulls away and tugs your sweater up over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room, doing the same with your bra. With your top half bare he pushes you backward until your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it. He leans over you, leaving soft kisses along your collarbones as he removes your jeans and panties.
Completely naked, he lets his eyes rake over your form laid out in front of him. A small, elated sigh rolls from his lips.
“So pretty, kitten.” Your eyes flutter closed from the praise.
“Thank you Daddy.” Aizawa groans and leans down to kiss and lick at your neck, letting his hands smooth over your hips and legs.
“Such a good girl. So obedient for Daddy.” He feels your body shiver beneath his fingers from that bit of praise. Getting up off the bed he reaches into a different drawer, pulling out three bundles of rope. Turning back to you, he gives a command.
“Middle of the bed, kitten. On your back, arms up.” At the order, you move, getting into the position he specified.
He crawls over and begins to tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard, the rope secure, but not too tight to be uncomfortable. When he’s done with your wrists, he moves down to your legs. One by one, he lifts them and bends them at the knee, tying your ankle to your upper thigh, and spiraling the rope up to your knee, tying knots down one side and up the other in a beautiful leg tie. Finished with his task, he leans back to admire his work. You’re nearly purring. You know how much you love being restrained, and this man had made you into an artwork, laying out for his eyes, completely at his mercy. He can see the doe-eyes you're giving him, see how still you're being, how trusting you are of him to take care of you. And he loves it.
He moves between your legs, you automatically spread them to give him room, and he leans over, whispering against your lips.
“Such a good girl for me,” before giving you a soft kiss.
“Stay still for me, pretty thing.” He gets off the bed and swiftly undresses, returning to you. You sigh out, elated as your eyes trace down his toned body, drinking in the sight of thick corded muscle rippling under scarred skin. Your gaze lands on his already erect member, thick and long, a prominent vein running underneath. You’d imagined what he could look like, but reality far outshone your imagination. The sheer awe shone through in your voice.
“You’re beautiful.” His eyebrows raise slightly, surprised at your words. Leaning down, he kisses your neck sweetly.
“Thank you kitten. Now let me take care of you.” Back between your legs, he sits on his knees and kneads your breasts in his hands, pulling and tweaking your already hardened nipples, making you mewl. Your skin feels hot at his touch, your body relishing in the pleasure his fingers give you. He leans down and takes a bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking it before pulling off with a small pop and moving to the other, giving it the same treatment. Rough hands grope and knead down your body, giving appreciative squeezes at your hips, before smoothing his palms down your pelvis. He sits back on his heels and gazes at your glistening pussy, already dripping with arousal. Swiping a finger up your slit, he gathers the slick there and brings it up to his lips, sucking your juices off his finger with a groan.
“You taste so sweet kitty.” You respond with a mewl and another ‘thank you’. He takes his finger and slides it into your heat, and you sigh at the sensation as he pumps it slowly, before adding a second finger. The stretch is wonderful, and he begins to curl and scissor his fingers, searching. You let out a small moan and your back arches slightly off the bed when his fingers curl and hit that spongy spot inside you.
“There it is. Does that feel good kitty?” You nod, floating on bliss.
“Yes, Daddy, it feels good.” He hums and returns his attention back to the task at hand, increasing his pace as he pumps his fingers. His other hand comes up to your pelvis, and his mouth latches onto your clit. The stimulation has you gasping and squirming under his ministrations, and the hand on your pelvis holds you still.
He slips his fingers out and holds them to your lips, and you open your mouth to suck your essence off of them.
You can feel the coil in your belly tighten, winding up as Aizawa hits all the right spots inside you that has you softly moaning and straining against your bindings. Your wet walls are fluttering around his fingers, his tongue lashing at your puffy nub.
“I can feel you. Cum for me kitty.” He reattaches his mouth to your clit and sucks harshly, his fingers digging into that soft patch inside you, and your walls clamp down as you come apart, the muscles in your abdomen tensing and arching your back off the bed. Aizawa releases your clit, but keeps pumping his fingers, letting you ride out your high.
“Such a good girl, kitty.” He pulls your hips up onto his knees as he rubs his painfully hard cock up and down your core, gathering the slick on his shaft. You desperately want to feel him inside you, but you still yourself and hold back your begging mewls. Your resilience and need to be obedient and good for him makes Aizawa groan.
“I want to hear you, kitten. Every sound you need to make, I want to hear it.” He lines himself up with your slicked hole as you nod. With that he pushes his cock into you, and you mewl out at the delicious stretch he’s giving you. You’re both panting as he bottoms out inside you and holds still, allowing you to adjust to him.
“You’re so tight babygirl. Feels so good inside you.” He grips your hips and begins a slow pace, grinding into you, making you moan and squirm, but it’s not enough.
“Please Daddy, harder, please.” The near growl that escapes him has you reeling.
“Since you asked so nicely, kitten.” He pulls out almost completely before slamming into you and setting a brutal pace, and you’re moaning out loud, your voice a sinful melody in Aizawa’s ears. Your limbs are struggling against the restraints, tugging and flexing hard. Before you know it, that coil is tightening again, pulling taut in the pit of your stomach, searing white hot pleasure pooling like magma. Your walls are fluttering again, and Aizawa reaches down to rub tight circles onto your clit, urging you to come undone. He’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, and as you feel yourself coming to that edge his hips begin to stutter, making known he’s close too. He angles his hips and ruts into you, hitting your g-spot mercilessly, and you’re pushed off the edge, moaning loud, toes curling, cumming hard and clamping down on his cock. A few more strokes, and he pulls out as he’s cumming, covering your chest and belly in his hot, thick cum.
You’re both panting as you come down from your highs, exhausted and spent. After a few minutes, Aizawa gets up and disappears behind a door, returning with a damp washcloth. He cleans his cum off of you and tosses the cloth into a hamper, before beginning to untie your legs. Once they’re both free, he slowly pulls them out and massages them, relieving the slightly cramped muscles, and you’re sighing gratefully as the tension in your body is released. He does the same with your arms as you lay there, your body weak. When he’s done, he puts a palm on your cheek, and you nuzzle into his touch, tears beginning to form in your eyes.
“How are you feeling kitty?” You let the tears fall, the intensity of the night beginning to take a toll on your mind. He pulls your body into him, cradling you as you cry quietly, letting you ride out the emotions.
He rocks you in his arms, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering praises into your ear, until your cries subside into small hiccups. He leans back and looks down at you, nuzzling into his chest.
“You okay, (y/n)?” You nod and take deep breaths, relaxing in his arms.
“I’m okay. Thank you.” He hums and lifts you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom. He plugs the drain and turns the handle, letting the tub fill with warm water. As it fills, he holds you close and places soft kisses on your face and lips, showering you with affection. When the tub is full he turns off the tap and sinks down into the water, your back to his chest, and the warm water soothes your aching body. Aizawa grabs the soap and washes you, massaging you as he goes. He scrubs shampoo into your hair, fingers massaging into your scalp making you hum appreciatively. He washes himself, then drains the tub and turns on the shower head to rinse the both of you.
When you’re all rinsed, he steps out and dries himself with a towel, before helping you out and wrapping you with a fluffy towel of your own. Dried off, you leave the towel on the counter, and Aizawa scoops you up again and lays you down on the bed. He disappears again for a minute, and reappears with a glass of ice water, giving it to you to drink and climbing into bed.
When you finish sipping at the water, you leave it on the bedside table. Before you can move to get your clothes back on, Aizawa pulls you back into his chest, spooning you with his warm body.
“Sleep,” he grunts into your ear. You're too tired to argue, so you relax in his hold and let the blackness take over your mind.
You wake up in your professor’s arms. You turn to look at him, admiring his sleeping face. His voice startles you.
“It’s not very polite to stare.” Your face heats a little and you look away, suddenly shy.
“S-sorry.” He pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck.
“It’s alright.” You sigh at the realization that this is going to end, that it has to end. You can’t share a bed with this man while you're his student, it could ruin both of you, moreso him. So you begin to move out of his arms, but he holds you tighter.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You sigh, a tired, sad sound.
“This can’t continue, Mr. - ”
“Shouta.” You blink.
“What?” He grunts, clearly unbothered.
“Call me Shouta.” You swallow down the lump in your throat.
“Shouta...this…can’t become a thing. You know that.” You can feel his breath on your neck as he sighs, and he releases you from his hold. Silently, you dress yourself. You dare to take a look back at him before you leave.
“Thank you, Shouta. I wish things were a little bit different.” He nods, whether in agreement or understanding you aren't sure.
“I’ll see you in class in a few days, (y/n).” You give a soft smile, and leave.
____
The few months before graduation were agonizing. Having to see Shouta three times a week drove you absolutely mad, and when you finally graduated you were almost happy that you didn’t have to see him again. But it was just as painful not seeing him. Your mind was riddled with the dark haired man for months after graduating. You’d lay awake at night wondering if you made the right choice, wondering if somehow you two could have met more often and kept the rendezvous a secret. Often you found yourself letting a few stray tears fall, wishing you’d been able to stay in bed with Shouta longer that morning. You were miserable. And you knew it was because even if the only intimacy you’d shared was the best sex you ever had, you had fallen madly, hilariously in love with your college physics professor.
____
Shouta stared up at his ceiling for what felt like the millionth time. His mind is on you. Always you. After you graduated, he knew he’d never see you again. And it killed him. Nearly 6 months had gone by, and he's still stuck on you, on your body. On your obedience. On your beautiful face sitting in his lecture hall. He’d seen you on the first day, and he was entranced by you nearly instantly. You were extremely smart, and he loved that. But he was a professional, a professor. Your professor. And you were his student. So he buried that attraction he felt and made sure to never let you see how much he wanted you. He only noticed you dazing off during class because he’d glance at you more often than he’d like to admit. He let it go, simply because your grades remained high. But that day he just happened to ask the class a question, and when nobody answered, he went to you because he knew how intelligent you were.
But when your words slipped from your mouth, something in him snapped. He knew there were very few explanations for you to use that title, all of them being you were thinking of someone using it. And by the near instant speed of your response, he could guess who was on your mind. That night was pure bliss. He loved every moment, and never regretted it. Even as you thanked him and walked out of his house, even knowing he may never get to spend another night with you, he didn’t regret anything. He let you walk away because that was the best thing to do. After you graduated, he could approach you again, and he’d get you back. But he couldn’t find you.
In the time since graduation he’d told his best friend and fellow professor Hizashi Yamada about the complex situation. Hizashi felt for him, knowing when Shouta fell, he fell hard, and the situation is a bad one. He was never judgemental, as he’d had his fair share of forbidden romances. The blonde would visit him in class often, bringing a fresh cup of coffee for his sulking friend. The loss was affecting him more than he liked to admit, and his sleeping habits were bad enough as it is. Hizashi’s visits were always welcome, and a nice distraction, even if they were short. But he was still hooked on you.
He's sick of feeling so defeated. He's tired of feeling so lovesick. He needs a distraction. He needs coffee. He got up and showered, and got ready to drive to the nearest cafe a mile down the road. As he stood in line to order his coffee, he let his eyes wander the cafe, drinking in the soft pastel colors on the walls. It reminds him of you. You’d always wear pastel sweaters. Once again, his mind drifted and landed on you.
And so did his eyes.
____
You had a day off work today. Deciding you didn’t want to sit around the house and sulk like you usually do, you took a shower, got dressed, grabbed your keys, wallet, phone, and a book to read, and headed to the cafe on the corner two blocks from your apartment. Sitting in the plush seat of the booth with your hot mocha latte, you cracked the book open and dove in. You got lost in the words on the pages, your mind living in the adventure written in black ink. You were ripped from your imagination when a deep voice interrupted you.
“Do you mind if I join you, kitten?” Your eyes froze on the page, jaw clenched, heart beating out of your chest. You tore your eyes from the book and looked up at none other than Shouta Aizawa.
You haven’t seen him in almost 6 months, and the man still plagued your thoughts. But the sheer joy you felt seeing him overtook you as tears fell from your eyes. Not even a moment later, you leapt from your seat and threw your arms around his shoulders. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight, afraid you’d slip from him again. You cry softly into his shoulder, letting yourself enjoy the moment with the man you know you love. You can’t help the words coming out of your mouth.
“I missed you so much, Shouta. I couldn’t stand not seeing you.” Somehow, he holds you tighter.
“I missed you too, kitten.” He reaches a hand up to pet your hair as he leans back, his dark eyes peering deep into your own.
“I’m here now. And you’re not my student anymore. So if you’d let me, I’d like to take you on a date.”
You freeze in place and look up at him, shocked at what you're hearing. You don’t know if he loves you the way you do him, but in this moment you know he has very real feelings for you. Like it's instinct, you lean in and kiss him passionately, letting your tears wash away the pain you felt ever since you left him that morning. When you broke away you were both breathless, and you nod your head frantically.
“I’d love to go on a date with you Shouta.” A genuine smile spreads across his face, a clear show of his happiness.
“Would you like to come back to my place?” You nod again, and grab your book and phone and follow him out to his car.
This time, you had no reason to leave.
This time, he had no reason to let you go.
This time, you’d stay.
#aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa shouta x reader#professor aizawa#bnha college au#aizawa bnha#shouta aizawa#aizawa shouta
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underrated stevetony fics rec list (P1)
i feel like a lot of really good stevetony fics get swept under the rug because this is such a big fandom and sometimes people miss out on quality content?? so this is a rec list of some of the stevetony fics i feel like everybody should have read/ be reading
Edit (31.12.2020): this got very long (i had almost 50 fics on my list, so ive decided to split this list into two parts. part 2 will be out soon!!)
Edit (20.02.2021): part 2 is out now!!
//
picture me in the trees: @ifmywishescametrue
Tony and Steve were childhood friends that almost became more, but Tony moved and they lost their chance. Thirteen years later, a chance meeting brings Tony back into Steve's life.
Free: @iwanttopizzamanyou
"Steve reads, and the words dance in front of his eyes, because while this used to be his dream, what he wanted, all he can think about is how this Hell will soon become his full time life."
Steve discovers fame, with fans waiting for him in the lobby and girls passing him their numbers after the shows. It used to be what he wanted, he supposes. Except his future managers keep asking more and more from him, and he's not sure his old life will survive. Tony is ready to help, and compromise, but Steve maybe isn't anymore.
making it work: @/ironarm
“Just tell him you don’t want to see him anymore,” Clint replies, finishing the end of his burger and starting to crumple up the wrapper, “It’s not like you love him or anything.”
“Clint, if I thought I could get rid of him about a week ago, I would have. But for some fucked up reason, I can’t lie to him. It’s like, I see those baby blue eyes, and bam. Whatever barrier that I built up from childhood trauma is gone.”
Clint chokes on the last piece of his burger, almost resisting the urge to smack Tony on the side of his head.
Tony was a fucking idiot.
Boys Like Us: @naferty
The video had been a mistake. One of the biggest mistakes he had ever done in his life, and considering Tony Stark had done a bunch of shit in his younger years, and even older years, that was saying something.
It was just that none of those things were as embarrassing as that video.
He blamed Clint for everything
Stained Fingertips: @thesoundofnat
“I don’t really believe in magic,” he said, clearing his throat. “But I’m almost certain you’re a goddamn wizard, Steve Rogers.”
Steve would remember those words for the rest of his life.
(Or, Steve is maybe slightly obsessed with drawing Tony. Not that Tony minds.)
Inhale, Ex-Sail: @summerpipedream
"Rich pirates decked out in top-of-the-line black market gear,” grumbled Tony, ”why don’t I have the budget to make those again?’
Rhodey inched back so that he and Tony were back-to-back. “We’re apparently law abiding citizens now, which means having to pay taxes.”
Tony scowled. “Urg, right. Remind me why I wanted to do that again?”
Rhodey rolled his eyes. “What was it you called him last time? Your sweet tart? Your apple pie in the sky? The wind beneath your wings? Hopefully he’ll fly here fast enough so we don’t get killed. Or worse, mugged.”
Tony Stark Bingo K1 - AU: Steampunk
As Constant As A Star: @atsadi
The Swan Princess AU
As young children, Prince Anthony and Princess Natasha of neighboring Midgardian kingdoms are betrothed, and spend their summers together every year until they are wed. Tony adores his headstrong friend Nat: it’s her scowly little companion Steve he’s not thrilled about at first. But soon Steve goes from being a thorn in Tony’s side to being his dearest friend – and much, much more than that. Despite Steve feeling the same way about Tony, the pair still dance around each other for years as Steve struggles to accept his feelings for another man: especially one already betrothed to another. Not to mention that Tony is a prince, and Steve is nothing but a squire.
But before they can make peace, Tony is kidnapped and dragged into the beginnings of another conflict in the nearby magical kingdom of Asgard – he really hates magic. With his potential usefulness diminishing by the day, Tony races to escape even as Steve, Natasha, and their friends race to find him and bring him home.
And—just to make matters worse—Tony has been trapped by a powerful spell and turned into a swan, of all creatures. He really, really hates magic.
Always Yours: @hollyjollyhope
Getting kidnapped is normal for them, at this point. But there's nothing normal about this.
And suddenly, Tony has a choice to make.
Oxeye Daisy (patience): @s-horne
“You make me want things I can’t have.”
Steve startled at the voice from behind him and turned around to see Tony standing in the kitchen doorway. He stared straight at Tony for a long moment. The room was quiet, time stretching out in a thick and uncomfortable silence as neither man dare to move nor opened his mouth to speak first.
White Clover (a promise): @s-horne
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Tony lifted his head as he tried to focus on Steve’s voice. When he managed to open his eyes and blink a bit of the blurriness away, he was rewarded with a gentle smile being shone down at him.
“There you are,” Steve said. “Was worried I was going to have to talk to myself.”
Though his tone was light, Tony knew what he meant. It was no secret that Tony was physically weaker and a hell of a lot more human than Steve was and was therefore struggling more with the lack of regular nourishment that came with being held hostage.
“Course not,” Tony said back, voice hoarse but plastering a smile on his face all the same. His head was pounding and his eyes couldn't stay open. “Would I ever do that to you? You’d never get a sensible answer.”
Acta non verba: @firebrands
unapologetic fluff about two idiots who can barely keep it together with how hard they're crushing on each other
or:
tony has to help steve with math + a halloween party = a good time for everyone, eventually
you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands
tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list
Adjacent, Against, Upon: @firebrands
A political AU!
Steve Rogers is running as the Mayor of somewhere, America. Tony Stark, his campaign manager, deals with a candidate who isn’t interested in lying, and just wants to do good by these citizens, god damn it.
song of unrest: @omg-just-peachy
How was Steve supposed to reconcile all of this? The way he looked so different but still felt so much the same? It made Steve’s head spin. He knows he shouldn’t care so much, that he is what he is, but he just wants to know.
Paint The Town Blue: @omg-just-peachy
Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.
Camelot: @weethreequarter
For one shining moment, there was Camelot.
In 2019, Karen Page meets Captain Steve Rogers to conduct an exclusive interview on his late husband, President Tony Stark.
In 2007, Steve meets Senator Tony Stark and falls in love.
he thinks he’s lancelot (but he’s more of a sir lamorak): @theotherwasdeath
Tony knows firsthand that violence isn’t funny. So why oh why does he think that the scene playing out in front of him, Steve and Victor Von Doom in a knock-out, drag-down fist fight, is absolutely hilarious?
wildflowers: @tinytonysnark
“So,” Steve begins, clapping his hands together, “the city of SHIELD is in debt. The big ups have sent for financial advisors, all the way from DC! They’re gonna take a look at the city’s spending and make some cuts.”
He squints at the camera against the morning sun shining through the courtyard, “I’m not that worried. Everyone here in the parks department is an important member of the team and absolutely needed.”
The camera swings towards the office where from the large glass window, Natasha can be seen picking up the ringing phone before immediately slamming it back down onto the receiver.
[A Parks and Rec AU]
trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve
Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.
By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.
Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.
One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.
For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.
----------
Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.
#adi's rec list#stevetony#superhusbands#steve rogers x tony stark#steve rogers/tony stark#steve x tony#steve/tony#underrated stevetony fics#this is part 1 of this rec list#part two will be out soon!!#im planning on doing this for other ships!!#so let me know if there's any ships you wanna see this for
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INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker
Chapter Fourteen
If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more. don’t forget to read the prologue, it’s important to the story!
INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker
ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, the Crows had made it back to the train that took them through the Fold. They were lying on their stomachs behind their carriage, watching out into the field. Elham could feel that Kaz’s body was tense next to hers, and she scooted closer to Inej, her side touching Inej’s. Inej didn’t seem to notice the movement, although Kaz seemed to relax a bit.
“How many are there?”
Kaz looked closer out into the field, scanning the area around the train for men. “Two. At some point at least one of them will have to go tell a superior what they found. We’ll go in then.”
Jesper turned to the Crows on his right. “Not to be that person, Kaz, but...are you sure you can drive that thing?”
Kaz looked certain, and he sounded exasperated, as if Jesper’s lack of faith in him was unjustified. “Yes.”
Elham rolled her eyes, mumbling. “Because you’ve driven a train before, yeah, I’m sure you’ve got this.”
He ignored her, turning to Jesper. “On the way to Kribirsk, while you were busy hugging bait--”
Jesper interrupted. “Milo. The goat’s name was Milo.”
“I was memorizing Arken’s timings.”
Inej looked uncertain. “Not to gang up on you, but, Jes has a point. Arken’s system was complicated and the ride was chaotic. No one would blame you for missing a count.”
Elham and Kaz both turned their heads, simultaneously speaking. “Jes?”
Jesper smiled. “It’s Suli, for friendship.”
Elham scoffed. “I may not know much Suli, but I can guarantee it’s not. Or is Jes, here, right, Inej?”
Kaz didn’t let her respond. “Trust me. Arken and I think alike.”
Elham chuckled. “Saints, I sure hope not.”
Before Kaz could respond, an explosion went off, and the Crows turned to watch the train go up in flames.
Elham suddenly couldn’t control her laughter, setting her forehead on her arms rested out in front of her.
“Of course.”
Jesper turned to her. “Too soon to appreciate the irony, am I right?”
Kaz ducked his head down, closing his eyes, jaw clenched. Elham noticed the movement next to her and murmured quietly next to him.
“Hey, it’s ok. We’ll figure it out, Kaz. There has to be another way across...and if there’s not, I’m not opposed to Jesper’s idea of opening up a bar and brewing beer. I could be a barmaid, yeah?”
Jesper chuckled. “You? A barmaid?”
“Beats being Heleen’s little fawn, right? Besides, I’d be a good barmaid.”
He was still laughing, but the humor had left. “Yeah, you’d be just about as good of a barmaid as you’d be Queen of the Barrel. And stop joking about Heleen, alright? It’s not funny.”
Elham smiled at him sadly. “If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry, Jesper.”
His face was full of pity, and she turned away, looking back down at her hands resting on her arms. Inej leaned closer, brushing her shoulder against Elham’s.
“I think you’d make a good Queen.”
Kaz finally spoke up, the ghost of a grin on his face. “A dangerous one, at least. I’d hate to be under your reign.”
Elham glanced up at him, smiling. “I’d spare you. Probably. I’d at least consider it.”
He rolled his eyes, standing up, motioning for the Crows to follow.
---
The Crows used the last of their money to get a room, and Kaz had spent the last half hour trying to figure out what to do. Elham took this time to practice with her new sword, Jesper duelling her with a piece of wood he had found.
He was out of breath, flailing around the room. “This isn’t fair, you know? You have a nice sword, I have a stick. You’re literally called the Valkyrie, this is not a Jesper talent, why can’t we use guns?”
“Stop whining, Jesper, you’re fine. Keep going, I need the practice.”
Kaz scoffed in his chair, almost laughing. “No, you don’t.”
Inej came in, clearly amused by Jesper being chased around the room. She turned to Kaz.
“The skiff is still here. Travelers downstairs are complaining. They were due to cross this morning.”
Kaz nodded. “Orders from the Black General. He plans to cross on it tomorrow.”
Jesper stopped running, holding his hands up in surrender. “The General? Is that the same general who tried to, oh yeah, kill us all? And use Elham to build a literal flaming wall of fire and darkness? That one?”
“He has the Sun Summoner.”
Elham turned to look at Kaz, face contorted in confusion. How did he know that? And why hadn’t he told her? Was there anything she could have done to stop it, to protect Alina? Inej stepped closer to her, clearly upset.
“Was this your plan all along? To have the General get her back so you can take her again?
“My plan is to get us across the Fold. We aren’t prepared for another fight.”
Inej raised a brow. “So you’re not going to take another run at Alina? And you’re really willing to let a million kruge go? All you want is to cross the Fold?”
Kaz grumbled, but nodded, standing up.
Jesper stepped forward. “Hang on. Are we talking about boarding a skiff with people who will recognize us? People who don’t like us much?”
Kaz pondered, turning to Inej. “We’ll have to blend in. Who else was on that skiff?”
“Some people from the winter fete. Dignitaries from Kerch and Novyi Zem on their way home.”
He raised a brow. “And now they’re audience to one more light show.”
He was silent for a moment, and Elham swore she could almost hear the gears turning in his head. She leaned closer to Jesper, whispering.
“Scheming face?”
He nodded, whispering back. “Scheming face. We’re not gonna like this, are we?”
Kaz finally spoke. “Jesper, how did you enjoy playing a Zemeni guard?”
---
By nightfall, a plan was set in motion. Inej was perched atop a balcony, waiting to signal Elham. Elham waited until she got a nod from Inej, and turned to see a group of men walking her way. Kaz and Jesper came out of the alley behind them, walking slowly.
Elham approached the group of men, a smile on her face. “Excuse me, sir?”
One of the men stepped forward, smiling. “Yes, miss?”
Elham smiled, moving closer to the man like she was going to tell him a secret. He leaned in and waited. She set her hands on his shoulders, lightly gripping at his coat. She could hear the man's friends chuckling behind him. Before he could speak, she drove her knee up into his gut, sending him bending over and stumbling to the ground, clutching his stomach. She delivered a quick kick to his face, and he was out cold.
The man’s friends quickly scrambled to their friends' side, checking to see if he was ok. “You bitch, what did you do that for?”
One of them stood to move towards her, and she gripped the hilt of her sword, but Kaz and Jesper beat her to it. Kaz used his cane, Jesper used the base of his pistol, and they both swung at the same time, each taking out one of the remaining men, knocking them unconscious.
Jesper smiled, bending down to grab one of the men under his shoulders. “Nice job, love. “
He turned to Kaz, who hadn’t moved. “Are you gonna help?”
Kaz just swung his cane up into his grip, holding it up for Jesper to see. Elham rolled her eyes.
“Oh. Well isn’t that convenient for you? Elham...please?”
She sighed, grumbling. She hooked her arms under the smallest looking man, lugging him up. “Fine! Only because I nearly cut you earlier and I’m still feeling slightly guilty.”
“That was a very close call, by the way, I think you still owe me.”
“Jesper! I’ll drop him!”
“Fine, fine. Come on.”
---
Ten minutes later, Jesper had successfully stripped one of the men from his outfit, placing it on himself. He was admiring himself in the mirror, smoothing down his coat.
Inej was rolling her eyes. “You look fine.”
“Oh, I look more than fine.”
Without looking up from the papers Kaz was fabricating, he handed Elham the dress she had worn at the fete.
She grabbed it from him. “You’re not serious? Why does Inej get to wear the cool coat and I’m stuck in a dress again?”
“Because. We’re blending in. You’re supposed to look nice, like the rest of the wives who came from the winter fete will.”
Elham peeked out from the corner she had ducked behind to change. “Wives?”
“You’re playing Jesper’s.”
Jesper grinned, turning to Elham. “My love! I must say, I do like you in a dress.”
Elham grumbled, stepping out from the corner, once again in the dress. “First your wife, now Jesper’s, why do your plans always involve me playing a wife?”
Inej chuckled. “He had you play his wife? I would have loved to see that. You already argue like an old married couple, it wouldn’t be that much of a change.”
Elham’s cheeks heated up, and she suddenly found the fabric of her dress very interesting, fiddling with it. Kaz finally looked up from his papers, quickly changing the subject.
“Just be happy I’m letting you keep that sword strapped to your back. If they ask why you have it, just say you bought it in town as a souvenir or gift or something, and that you don't want it damaged in the cargo hold. I’m sure you can think of something dramatic enough that one of those pampered wives would say before causing a scene their husband would have to buy their way out of.
Before Elham could come up with something sarcastic as a rebuttal, he continued. “Alright, I made some edits to the papers. Should be enough to get us through the checkpoint and onto the skiff.”
Jesper leaned forward, looking confused at his paper. “Huh? No one is ever going to believe I’m that old.”
Kaz only looked up at him. “You tell yourself that.”
Jesper scoffed, clearing his throat and stomping off. Kaz smirked, looking back down at his papers. Inej smiled, and Elham called after Jesper dramatically.
“It’s alright, my love! I like older men!”
He called back to her, huffing. “Shut up Elham!”
---
The Crows were now in line to board the skiff, papers in hand.
The guard at the table spoke. “Consider yourselves lucky. You’re traveling with the Black General and the Sun Summoner, which means you’re about to witness the destruction of the Fold.”
Elham mumbled under her breath, stepping up closer in line. “Yes, I’m so lucky to be boarding with people who want to kill me, very excited to be here, honestly.”
Jesper stepped up to the guard, handing him his papers along with Elham’s. She stood at his side with her arm linked through his, smiling. The guard looked over the papers, glancing up questionably.
Jesper smiled. “I know. I look amazing for my age.”
The guard shook his head, handing them back. “Well, I thought you looked older.”
Jesper let out a pained laugh, and Elham hid her smile, grabbing his hand. “Come on, love.”
They headed to the skiff, when the crowd started whispering amongst themselves, glancing behind them. The Crows turned to see Alina emerge from the tent, a black cloak engulfing her. The Darkling followed closely behind, scanning the area.
Elham quickly turned back around, seething. “Please let me kill him.”
Kaz scoffed, using his cane to push her forward. “Not a chance...well, at least not today. I’ll consider it again later.”
---
They boarded the skiff, quickly moving to the back, hiding in the shadows, away from Alina and the Darkling at the front.
Jesper spoke quietly. “ Good news? It’s just as terrifying as I remember.”
Elham turned to him. “How is that good news? We’re completely exposed.”
Growling was heard in the distance as the Fold drew closer, and Elham felt her heart sink.
Jesper sighed. “If I’m meant to die today, and one of you survives, make sure I have an open casket.”
Elham gripped Jesper’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Kaz kept his eyes locked on the Darkling.
“No one’s dying today. No mourners, eh, Creed?”
Elham grimly smiled at him, and the Crows replied in unison. “No funerals.”
The skiff plunged into darkness.
---
A/N - we're in the last episode of content now, only a few more chapters to go! i hope you've enjoyed so far and are happy with the story, i'm excited to get the rest out and put the rest of those little details i was excited about into the story. we still have a lot of cool stuff for this episode to go through, and is could have another chapter out soon. let me know what you thought, and thank you for the support!
#wattpad#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker#six of crows imagine#six of crows#shadow and bone#in my feels probably#inferni#ineffable#grishaverse#x reader#oc
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life on mars | one | b.b
summary: after an accident y/n wakes up in 1940s Brooklyn with no idea what happened they had no option but to accept help from two stranger
word count: 1.3k
warnings: inaccurate knowledge of Brooklyn, mention of violence/fights, questionable medical stuff, swearing, hints to drowning and that's it i think
A/N: this is something i've been working on for a while and i feel like it's finally ready to be put out there. opening from a grey's anatomy episode!
shout out to @rosewrites for letting me borrow Sparkles from her story Cardiac Arrest which is amazing and you should all check out!
!!has been edit but likely missed a few things!!
MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN | SERIES MASTERLIST
The back of the ambulance was tightly packed . This was your least favourite part of being a trauma surgeon, being the one they called when they needed someone fast. A handful of doctors were already at the scene tending to people.
You ran through all the information Joy, the paramedic had mention before you sent off. A boat had capsized near the pier, you weren’t sure what injures you would need to treat but you were ready.
As much as you wanted to keep your mind on your job, your mind kept finding its way to Stephen. After his accident he became more of an ass than he already was. You did everything you could to help him, gave him all the time you had to give. You were there every time he woke up from an operation along with Sparkles his not-girlfriend.
Operation after operation. The only thing that changed was his mood. After his last chance failed, he disappeared looking for something that would help, you only reason you knew he was still alive was thanks to Sparkles, she was the only person he’d talk too.
"Dr Gold we're here" Joy called from the front seat.
You snap out your head, grabbing your kit jumping out the back of the ambulance. when you were out you looked out at the scene before you, people lay on the floor, doctors attending to at least three patients each.
After a deep breath you got straight to work, assessing how serious their injuries where and if they could wait. Thankfully there wasn’t many serious injuries, you started to walk towards the information centre when you spotted something, no someone in the distance.
You started to run towards them, no wonder they hadn’t been seen they were hid behind a shipping container. “Sir can you hear me?” you reached down and tried to find a pulse, you sighed with relief finding one. “Okay sir, can you tell me what hurts?”.
Turning away you reached for your kit, you looked around wishing you hadn’t come alone if something happened now you didn’t have many options.
“Sir. I need to check your injures. Can you to tell me where it hurts” you tried again, checking his pupils, at least you could rule out a brain injury for now.
“my arm”
You looked down to his left arm, “okay, everything will be alright sir” you smile down to him, he just nods weakly back.
From where you were you couldn't get a good look at the arm. With one last look around you walk around and knelt by his other side. The cold sea air hit your back making the hair stand up on the back of your neck.
You breathed. Reached down to pull away his coat. Saw a deep red cut. You reached across to get some gauze from your kit. And then you were falling backwards. Everything moved in slow motion, you didn’t feel anything until you hit the cold water.
Shock. You were going to go into shock . You started to kick against the current as it tossed you around, you saw the water ripping above you. Just a little more and you’ll be fine, then you hit a pillar. You gasped pain distracting you, the water rushed into your lungs.
You felt a burning in your chest. The dizziness from your head was worse, you were sure there was blood mixed with the water.
You movements got slower, you breathed again, forgetting it was all water.
Would anyone find you? would they get to you in time?
Your movement was no existence now. The burning stopped, not a good side but you were too hazy to care. You closed your eyes.
A cloudless blue sky met your eyes. Birds flew above calling out to one another. Blinking you tried to remember where you were and why you were looking up at the sky in damp clothes.
You remember the water, it filling your lungs until you couldn’t take it anymore. You must have washed up on the shore, slowly you stood up looking around for help. Everything was the same. But everything was different. You were forgetting something, you just didn’t know what.
“How did I end up here?” you wonder turning in a full circle. Looking down at yourself, the blue dress and white apron sent an odd feeling through your chest. Lay on the floor next to you was a long brown coat.
You tried to think back before you fell in the water but nothing came up, whatever you were doing before was out of reach now.
You walked from the shore, trying to find your way to the streets. After 5 minutes of wondering around until the site of a building stopped you. You couldn’t point out why but you knew it.
You needed to touch it, something about it was different, you thought it you didn't feel it everything would disappear like a dream. Your hand was shaking as you reached out, the brick was cold and hard under your touch “what am I doing?” you murmured questioning yourself.
All around you people were getting on about their lives, talking, and laughing, among it all only one thing stood out. Someone was yelling. Either no one else heard what was going on or they just didn’t care.
When you looked down the closers alley you saw two men fighting, no, a man fighting a young boy.
“Hey!” you yell before you could think. The two, stop fighting looking your way.
“Nothing to worry about, honey. Move along” he man winked over his shoulder.
You huffed a breath of anger and walk closer, you pulled the man back by his shoulder. “I think it is”. The man was too shocked to move at first, staring at you opened mouthed like a fish. “Word to the wise don’t call anyone, love again”. You pulled him further away from the kid.
His eyes flashed with anger , he lifted his hand to hit you. You dodged it, then threw your own punch to his chin, then a kick to his stomach. He fell to the ground, your breath came heavy as you looked down at him.
A noise to your left took your attention away. That when you remember the young boy. “Are you okay?”, you reach out and to help him up.
“ Thank you miss, but I had it under control” he got up without your help, leaving your hand hanging in the air.
Closer up you could see he wasn’t a boy but a smaller grown man.
“He says that all the time” a voice laughed from behind.
You jumped turning around. There was another man, a rather handsome one.
“I’m guessing he likes to make a habit of it then” you breath smiling. “I’m afraid I can’t just let a bully get his own way” you nodded down to the passed-out man by your feet, “I might have hit him a bit too hard”.
The handsome man shrugged. “Teach him a lesson, no one wants to get taken down by a woman”.
You laughed.
Someone clears their throat, “Bucky”.
You turn away raising an eyebrow. “what?”
He nodded to the handsome man behind you, “His name. And I’m Steve”.
You smile nodding, “Nice to met you”.
“So Goldie, how come you’re soaking?” Bucky spoke.
You looked at him confused. “That’s not my name-“.
“Sorry nurse Gold how come you’re soaking wet” he waved his hand.
“Nurse?” you laughed.
Bucky pointed to your chest, “Your name tag says nurse Gold”.
“Is everything alright?” Steve had moved so that he could stand in front of you, Bucky had come closer too.
You reached up again and touched your head, it was still wet. “I feel into the water and I must have hit my head”.
“Can we help?” Steve asked worried, he put his hand on your shoulder, like you were going to fall any minute.
You laughed, “You don’t have any dry clothes lying around do you?”.
taglist open!
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x yn#bucky fanfiction#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#marvel fanfiction
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The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast Transcript - Episode 4
Our journey comes to an end with the transcript for episode 4 of The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast, where Dave Kajganich, Soo Hugh, Dan Simmons, and Adam Nagaitis discuss the last two episodes of the series. Once again, Adam steals the show with his revelations about Mr. Hickey, but we also hear about everyone’s favorite death scenes, the fight to let Mr. Blanky say fuck, the many changes the writers made to the ending that differed from the novel, and the importance of trusting your audience’s intelligence.
The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast - Episode 4
[The Terror opening theme music]
Dave Kajganich: Welcome to the fourth and final installment of The Minds Behind AMC’s The Terror as we discuss our final two episodes of the show! I’m Dave Kajganich, creator and co-showrunner of the series, here with the honorable Dan Simmons, creator of the novel The Terror on which the series is based. Also with us is Soo Hugh, executive producer and co-showrunner of the show, and Adam Nagaitis, who plays a man who plays a man called Cornelius Hickey. Welcome back!
Adam Nagaitis: Hi!
Dan Simmons: Hi Dave.
DK: So we launch into our final episodes. Now we are in an episode where the show begins to bend time. We cover a lot of ground in episode nine, a lot of distance, we say goodbye to quite a lot of characters, and we start to really bend the tone and the shape of the narrative towards the kind of horrible collision that’s coming between Crozier and Hickey and our Tuunbaq.
Soo Hugh: So in nine we say goodbye to so many of our characters. I mean Dave and I cried so--
[laughter]
SH: The amount of tears that he and I shed editing this show, especially with nine and ten. For you guys, Adam and Dan, which were the deaths--well, what did you think of the deaths?
DS: What’s your favorite death?
[laughter]
SH: Yeah, what was your favorite death?
AN: My favorite was probably, the one that really moved me was Fitzjames, it’s such a fantastic story, his character’s so interesting, that transition, discovering, you know, admitting who you are, and the firework at the Tuunbaq being his feat of courage, and then to end up, to embrace death, and to do it in such a beautiful way. And then the line of “there will be poems” that Mr. Bridgens says.
[show audio]
[sad, eerie music]
Bridgens (through tears): It was an honor serving you, sir. You’re a good man. There will be poems.
AN: It’s a beautiful death, it’s probably the best you can ask for, in that situation, you’re with a friend. Yeah, it’s quite sad. Of course you gotta love Blanky’s death as well, that’s, I’m cheating, now, yeah, but Blanky’s death is the greatest line to go out on, surely.
[show audio]
[Tuunbaq growling, shales crunching underfoot]
Blanky: What in the name of god took you so fuckin’ long?
[Tuunbaq snorts, Blanky laughs maniacally]
DK: We weren’t entirely sure whether AMC was going to permit us to use that word, a curse word, because on AMC you’re not meant to. Luckily for us, there are a number of AMC shows that have a precedent of using that word and we argued successfully that, you know, could you ask for a better show, a better scene than a Victorian disaster show to use the F-word, and they finally allowed us to use it, and we’re really grateful.
SH: I think just visually Bridgens’ death was so beautiful, and that pull out. And what was interesting was in our research found, we discovered, there was a corpse they discovered who had rolled over and was found sleeping on a set of papers, and in the show Bridgens takes Peglar’s diary when he chooses to die out there in the cold alone comforted with his memories, we see him roll over, and so that’s just our nod to history. Now it turns out we don't know whether or not it was actually Peglar’s diary, it could have been Armitage’s--
DK: No, I think we know it’s Peglar’s journal, but we don’t know whether the man lying on top of it was Armitage or Bridgens.
SH: Then there’s Goodsir’s death. Oh my God, Goodsir! I can’t believe Hickey! Adam! Goodsir!
AN: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. He had it comin’!
[laughter]
AN: I forgot that death, I forgot all of those deaths, actually, what a--so beautifully acted. I mean, unbelievable. It was perfect. The pure clean images of the coral, and the shell, oh I loved it, and the end, I think it’s an orchid, I just loved it, I absolutely--it’s something that I don’t like talking about, that death, it’s really horrible.
[show audio]
[the rising music from the scene of Goodsir’s death]
DS: They were all very moving in their own way, saying goodbye to each of the characters, surprisingly powerful, you know, some of ‘em were not major characters, but everything connected for me watching your version. When--earlier, when Fitzjames is out with Crozier alone, and Fitzjames sort of acknowledges that he’s a fake, that he’s just been faking this heroism, you know, the admiralty thought they sent a hero, they sent Fitzjames, he was the man of the moment, but he hadn’t done that much, so he had the courage to say that, and Crozier immediately had the compassion to point out, “No, you’re here, now, and you’re doing fine,” that’s not the dialect but that’s the essence of his message. So all through these scenes with the different characters, I found compassion again. [It] was the way Crozier touched men who were close to the end, the tone of his voice, you know, it wasn’t mawkish, he wouldn’t like being at all sentimental, but it was so supportive. It was like Goodsir helping the poor boy at the beginning of the show, telling him how death could be good, how you see light, you cross over. The kid died in terror; some of these people did. But most of ‘em, they’re like--Fitzjames, when he’s, you know, when he finally has to be carried in the sledge, and he has a sense of humor at the end, he can laugh at himself, somewhat, ‘cause he tells Crozier that that the bullet that went through his arm into his chest, that area is now so gangrene--er, rotten, you know, the bullet is finally going to kill him. Haha.
[polite awkward laughter]
DK: Well you pointed out a line from the first episode, where Fitzjames is talking to Franklin and he says, “Sometimes I think you love your men more than God loves them,” and Franklin's response is “For all your sakes, let’s hope you’re wrong,” and we brought that line back in a different way in episode nine, which is where the survivors of the Terror Camp attack are about to leave, and they know Hickey’s out there somewhere, and Fitzjames’s impulse is to hide or destroy all of their extra supplies so that Hickey’s group can’t benefit from them, and Crozier has the opposite instinct, which is because he knows some people in Hickey’s group probably made that decision because they were afraid that the alternative was worse to stay with Crozier and so many people, that he wants to offer them the resources in case they can use them and in case they wanna make a different decision in the days ahead.
[show audio]
Fitzjames: And the supplies we cannot carry? If Hickey’s band are waiting us out to loot the camp?
Crozier: Some of the men with them made their choice out of fear, I’ll not take away any chance they have to survive. We may meet them yet again, and if we do, I want them to make a different choice. Leave our supplies in a tidy pile, as an offering. I want the men with Hickey to know that’s how we meant it.
[shales crunching underfoot]
Fitzjames: More than God loves them...
DK: Lines like that are a real test, I mean, you struggle with them in the editing room. Did we earn that line? Is it important that an audience remembers that as an index point that line has now been sort of superficially applied to one man, but more sincerely applied to another man, and, you know, that goes back to sort of a close reading of the book, Dan, just sort of scouring through your dialogue trying to figure out how does a master, if I can refer to you that way, approach this idea of a relationship with an audience? And we learned an enormous amount from your book about restraint and indirection, and credit, giving the audience credit. And I will say this, the series is different enough from your novel that I would encourage everyone who has seen the television show but not read your book to seek it out, because they will have just as rewarding--even more so, possibly!--a time of learning about this history through the lens of horror than they did watching the show. So I think they complement one another. I hope they do, and I hope people will seek out both.
DS: That’s kind of you, Dave. My wife keeps track of the tie-in version of the book, and it’s selling very well, so some people are gonna get that.
SH: There is this fantastic scene that is in your book, that we had neither money nor time to shoot, but it’s where they discover leads, and they take the boats out going around, and they realize they’re just going around in a circle. We didn’t have the time to shoot that and we re-jiggered our narrative so that the leads ended up being a ploy on one of Hickey’s secret mutineers. Nine is a very quiet episode, and in some ways when you, in television shows--did you miss a set piece, in nine? Did anyone miss having a bigger narrative punch?
DS: Well, I'll answer, then let Adam answer, but for me, who had that boat scene and really liked it a lot, I didn’t miss my stuff too much, because what happened was when the young man, a boy actually, who’s secretly under Hickey’s control tells Crozier and the others he sees open water, and they rush to the rocky beach to see it, and of course that was a lie and a ploy to get them there so Hickey can seize them, but my heart just flew, that, “Open water! Ohh boy!” You know? How would men have felt if they’d heard that, in reality, what was their reaction? ‘Cause the open water could conceivably be their savior, they could get other places, not just cross over and start marching through middle Canada, but they could go anywhere on open water, and to see it all locked in with ice was just stunning to me, it was such a disappointment. So no, I don’t miss my part of it very much.
AN: I never thought of it as something that suggests a quiet narrative like you described it, Soo, to me it sort of links--I see nine and ten as one episode, really. It’s this slow build, the creation of that relationship that these two--the antithesis between these two camps, and between the tactics employed... I just think that the way you guys wrote it and put it together is flawless, I just think it’s so beautifully weighted, between, you know, the deaths that to me they don’t seem to just sort of monotonously pile up, they’re all just so beautifully handled and acted. And the whole time you have this tension building, slowly, slowly, that, you know, that it’s gonna come to a head. I didn’t feel when I watched it that it ever lacked punch. It had such clarity and such patience that made it really beautiful.
DS: And I don’t know if we can say the C-word on podcasts… cannibalism?
[laughter]
DK: Yes, that one we can.
SH: Yes.
DS: Oh, ok. You know there was a--if Hickey hadn’t already divided the troop into his people, the anointed, and then Crozier’s group, it would have happened anyway because of the cannibalism. And when you think about it, think of that rugby team or soccer team or whatever that crashed in the Andes. They went back into society. They were cannibals, they admitted it, they got a book deal. And so, presumably, even in England, these people would have been forgiven, or they would have kept it secret like some do. So cannibalism, what it did in this show, I think, divides the people. I didn’t see, until he was forced to imbibe in cannibalism, I didn't see Crozier even considering it. And so that fascinates me, just how far people will go to survive.
[show audio]
[tense music, tent canvas flapping in the wind]
EC: I’ll give you some advice. Don’t indulge your morals over your practicals. Not now. Don’t you also wanna live?
SH: Dave, we talked a lot about this, is when you’re in that moment, you’re not Dave Kajganich and I’m not Soo Hugh, in that moment, choosing whether or not we decide to eat someone. Something else will take over, whether it is the Goodsir in us or whether it is the Hickey in us, in that moment. I think that’s why when we shot that scene, you know, after Gibson is cut up, Adam, remember when we shot the reaction shots from each one of you eating your first bite of human flesh meat, and we took so much footage, we shot so much. We shot, you know, closes, mediums, just because Dave and I, you know, at that point, we were very confident of how to shoot everything, that was probably the moment when we were like ugh.
DK: Well we wanted to know how little we could get away with, and what we found, of course, which is typical for the show, the performances were so terrific, that we didn’t need very much. And I remember on the mix stage, the first mix that they did of the show, of that episode, I mean, there was quite a lot of chewing.
[laughter]
And so when I said, no no no, let’s pull all of that out, and use the most minute changes in expression, because all of you at that table were so well in character, that even the slightest muscle movement on your face communicated everything we needed you to. And we were obviously very interested in not overplaying that scene, knowing that audiences had been waiting for it, wondering how, in what kind of taste we would show it, you know, how we would modulate it, and you know a rule throughout the show was to try to present everything with its most practical face, including this. And so, you know, hopefully when that lands for people it will be both satisfying in the sense that they will understand how these characters made that decision but it won’t feel that we have over-articulated it, somehow.
DS: I’m not religious, but I’m obsessed with religion, and in your story, the way you structured it, you have, in a sense, we’ve already talked, or at least I have, about how Hickey seems to be evolving towards Messiahdom, I think he near the end he thinks he is the Messiah, but it’s Goodsir who provides The Last Supper. How much more powerful a story of Christ is there, than, you know, “Take, eat,” and it’s yourself? And it’s fascinating to me that the man who dedicated his life to helping people and curing people and being empathic at their ending, his last act is to kill as many of Hickey’s people as possible. And, you know, so there’s--that’s where the trial was, it wasn’t when Hickey was gonna be hanged, it was inside Dr. Goodsir when he decided that “These people need to end and I will do it.”
SH: So should we talk about the big scene at the end--well, it’s not the end, it’s the Tuunbaq sequence in 1.10?
DK: To set it up, Adam, you know, Hickey--we’ll keep calling him Hickey even though we’ve established he isn’t--you get an important piece of information in episode nine where Tozer, Sergeant Tozer, relays to you a piece of information that he hasn’t shared with anyone, that he watched Collins be killed and he watched Collins’s soul be pulled out of his body. And, you know, for Hickey, suddenly a lot of things make sense. What happened to Private Heather, who was alive for many episodes but no longer sort of present in his body, I mean you even have a scene where you poke his brain hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him, and you take that piece of information and you suddenly realize you’re not longer in a kind of survival story, you’re in kind of a spiritual story, you’re in kind of a mythological story, suddenly. Can you talk about how you decided to play that so it was sort of clear to an audience what that opportunity was? Because we did not devote a lot of dialogue to it, it was going to have to be something an audience felt as much as was described to them.
AN: I can only describe the way that it--the process--the mind of it, that, you know, you see Hickey has a plan, up until that point, he’s started--the way that I thought about it was that, you know, once he starts to hear things, he starts to have this space of this area, creates this space in his mind and he understands the things that have come before him and his curiosity leads him to, you know--one element in him is still practically engaged in survival, and outmaneuvering the captain, and heading south, and coming up with a plan and, you know, a story as to what happened, but then there are other elements of, you know, consuming human flesh, that there might be an answer there, it might be an enlightening experience. And if it’s not in that, is it something else? And he finds the hill, and he understands when he sees that hill, that he hears something, and then he’s not quite clear on what it is, what’s drawing him, and what’s talking to him, and what he’s feeling, but he’s becoming one with this realm, and, you know, he starts to, once he discovers the supernatural element--not that he hasn’t already established that there is one, but the fact that it’s such a specific--he’s been developing his knowledge of the summoning song that Lady Silence sings to become a Shaman, you know, the rules of this particular realm, this empire. And he’s been gathering this information as we go along, all the way through the series he’s been taking pieces of information, and he pockets it and learns and keeps it for later.
[show audio]
[mysterious music]
Hickey: Tuunbaq… a spirit that dresses as an animal, and yet we shot it with a cannon and drew blood. How do you reconcile that?
Crozier: I can’t. There’s much about this voyage I can’t reconcile.
Hickey: What mythology is this creature at the center of?
Crozier: About the creature I have no answers, Mr. Hickey. We were not meant to know of it.
AN: And when he gets this key piece of the puzzle, that the Tuunbaq is taking souls, and that... there’s a hierarchy of what the Tuunbaq wants to eat. You know, a captain, and important people, he realizes that he really is the center of this universe. I suppose the way that I adjusted it was that everybody else became irrelevant. Completely irrelevant. I no longer needed to worry about manipulation, control, fear. Everything was gonna sing for me, everything was gonna work as if I had magic hands, and my voice just dictated what the universe would do.
[show audio]
[mysterious music continued]
Hickey: I didn’t have anywhere near an equal on this expedition. But you. I wanted to thank you for that. On the eve of what is quite an important day.
AN: Every single conversation was an annoyance because it was getting in the way of me listening to the universe, this world, this empire, this realm that was now speaking to me. And I was talking to the Tuunbaq, you know, from this distance, and we had this dance going, and everything that happened was just getting in my way. It was all gonna work itself out because I’ve been chosen to ascend, to reach this ascension, to, you know, ride the Tuunbaq into my new empire, to take my new throne, and I was finally gonna be given the answers to these questions that I’d been asking.
[show audio]
[rushing wind, men singing weakly in the background, creaking]
Hickey (shouting): Bugger Nelson! Bugger Jesus! Bugger Joseph and Mary! Bugger the Archbishop of Canterbury! None ever wanted nothing from me!
SH: When you offer the Tuunbaq the tongue, and there’s that pause, what’s gonna happen, and he bites your arm off instead, and that look on your face of just, you know, “You too have failed me.”
DS: Et tu?
[laughter]
“Et tu, Tuunbaq?”
[laughter]
AN: “Et tu, Tuunbaq,” that’s a great T-shirt. But that scene, I drifted, but that scene in particular, is a slight difference to what his plan was, which was to climb the hill, sacrifice the men, sacrifice the tongue, and to become one with the Tuunbaq and to take my place on the throne in this new realm. And to find the answers and maybe, you know, climb through to a different realm, or who knows what. This empire was now my empire, which was the culmination of all of Hickey through his entire life has been leading to this point, and he’s quietened himself enough to hear it, and then suddenly he gets sick, because somebody poisons him. And so it’s a slightly different feeling, as he’s climbing the hill, and it’s a different--something else is happening inside him. He’s still perfectly capable of executing his plan, he gets carried away in that scene, and then by the time the Tuunbaq appears, he kind of focuses again, and becomes very excited. It’s a relationship with the Tuunbaq, it’s a dance, that everything is for him and the Tuunbaq. Everyone else is irrelevant.
[show audio]
[Tuunbaq snuffling, boat chain clanking]
[the Tuunbaq roars, sound of chomping flesh, then the screeching sound of the soul being eaten]
SH: And what he gets so wrong about the Tuunbaq, and I think what a lot of the Western characters in our show get wrong about the Tuunbaq, is that the Tuunbaq is not a deity, the Tuunbaq doesn’t ask to be a god, right? All it is is just this arbiter of what is good or what is not good for the land, you know, there’s no sense of the Tuunbaq wanting to be the ultimate creative force here, and I think that’s where Hickey was wrong, right?
AN: I think he sees it as a supernatural creature, and again, because everything comes through him, and the universe revolves around him, that it’s a challenge for him, it’s a question for him, and he deals a lot in questions as opposed to answers, and what his position is in the universe, and by the time he meets this creature that eats souls--and the creature’s sick, and it’s because he hasn’t united with it yet! It’s because of me that it’s sick, it hasn’t, I haven’t been in contact with it, and we haven’t united ourselves and taken over this empire, and he doesn’t see it for what it is.
SH: And when you guys see the Tuunbaq’s death in the very end of that sequence, how did you guys feel?
DS: Speaking for the novelist here, I was surprised; and then I got through the surprise and thought yeah. And then I immediately wondered how Lady Silence would have to pay for this death, ‘cause you’d already shown me that she’s in charge of protecting the Tuunbaq, so it was controlling it in some way, and she wasn’t really up to the task, so I liked that in going, when Crozier’s with the Inuit band, learning that she’s been punished and sent out by herself. But the Tuunbaq’s death itself just seemed right at that time.
[show audio]
[Tuunbaq’s death scene--growling noises, boat chain clinking, Crozier struggling]
AN: It was a horrible thing to watch, as a viewer, it was so sad, and it spoke to me of this sort of contemporary sort of--to me it was sort of a global warming issue, not to bring it ‘round, but it was sort of like, that’s it, they’ve killed it.
SH: No, absolutely, yeah!
AN: They’ve killed it, they’ve killed the Tuunbaq and we’re actually rejoicing at Crozier’s survival. But really, the man deserves death, with the creature that creates balance to this culture should be alive. And we have this upside down world that we are celebrating, which is so, you know, intelligent of you guys to create, and it’s difficult to take, but that creature is gone, and so balance is gone, and here we are.
DK: The very specific and subtle thing that we put in the show that probably no will decode it ‘til they hear this podcast, but was important to us as a structural element, was Sir John dies, when he’s killed down the fire hole in episode three, he has some flashes of subjective kinds of hallucinations, I suppose, or visions, I don’t know what you would call them. But one of them is of open water, it’s just a vista of the future of the Arctic, that there are going to be these, you know, that there’s going to be a huge melt, and there’s going to be all this open water. And for the final shot we tried to match, as much as we could, the angle, so that all of that frozen water that Crozier is sitting on at that seal hole would maybe possibly evoke that memory, to speak to what you’re saying, Adam, which is that this whole thing is a kind of, from the Netsilik’s point of view, it’s a huge tragedy in which these Europeans are the terrors, in a way. And not to be too reductive about it, but, you know, we wanted the season to have that kind of change of polarity, which is one reason why we couldn’t quite use the sort of the ending of the book, as much as we loved it, Dan, it felt like a lot of things that would feel--that would pull the point of view of the season across that line too much and too late. We wanted to try to modulate it a little bit so that every episode felt like you were giving some room in your point of view for Lady Silence’s perspective, or the Inuit’s perspective, and that that change would sort of happen so slowly you might not even notice that it was happening at all, which is one reason why we made that decision.
DS: You gave every character I saw room to have his or her own apotheosis, which is a big theme with you guys, I meant, the arcs end and people becoming someone else. Crozier grows into his leadership, I think, beautifully. Maybe he deserved punishment, but I found Crozier and his empathy, as Fitzjames is dying in the boat, it’s Crozier that touches him and lets him know, you know, through physical contact, that he’s not alone. And giving them room is unusual. I just find there’s so many unusual elements to what you three have created, that, I have to warn you, I think it deserves a lot of intelligent attention.
DK: Well I hope we can volley a lot of those right back to the book, Dan. Well we should take some time at the end to--given that after the sequence, this really becomes almost a kind of silent film to deliver the ending to Crozier’s arc--to really sing the praises of Jared Harris in this show, I mean, what he did with this role is remarkable. So, Dan, I would love to know what you thought of Jared Harris’s Francis Crozier?
DS: After watching the ten episodes of him and all those, and watching what he did with it, I just wanted him to adopt me.
[laughter]
SH: He would love that!
DS: But it certainly--leading is the operative word, isn’t it? He just, he didn’t give 100 or 1000 percent, he gave more than that to the character. He became Crozier for me. I’m the one who had to dream up the man, and see what he looked like, and write about him for about 1100 pages, 700 finally in type, and so I had my Crozier, he was pretty solid. But now Jared Harris is Crozier. There’s no doubt in my mind.
DK: The ending of the season is quite different from the ending of the book, Dan, how did you feel watching the ending of the show, and, in all candor, do you feel that it was satisfying? Do you feel that it was at least a good companion piece for the ending of the book?
DS: Well I’m glad I didn't video record my reaction the first time I saw the different ending, because speaking for two million readers I stood up and shouted, “What's wrong with my ending!”
[laughter]
“Is it chopped liver?” And I realized it would be. I realized that I don’t think you could have taken my ending and made it a sensible finale visually in the way it went. So I tracked--the whole episodes, the last two episodes, were enlightenment to me, because I’m just a viewer now, I’m watching something I didn’t create, these are not my ideas, so I sat back and enjoyed it, as horrible as they were. So when I watch your ending, the only thing I was bothered by was I’m sentimental. And the real Crozier, I believe, and certainly the fictional Crozier that we’ve all created, was so lonely, he was so alone in life, I think he was less alone than Crozier was, and, you know, rejected by Franklin’s niece several times from marriage, a life where he really felt rejection, probably more than Hickey did, and at the end I wanted him to be with someone. So as much as I liked your ending and I really thought it was proper and appropriate for the series, I woulda put a person next to him as he’s fishing out there in, you know, in his Inuit outfit at night waiting by a seal--he’s not fishing, he’s waiting by a seal breathing hole to kill it. So if I’d seen a glimpse of two of them, you wouldn’t even need to see their faces, you know, the sentimental side of me woulda been happy.
SH: But we leave that ambiguous in the ending, in terms of he’s not with Lady Silence, she, you know, had to pay the bill in some ways for the loss of the Tuunbaq and her destiny is to venture forth alone, and in some ways her storyline is the most tragic of all the characters in our show because, I mean, the price she paid is so harsh. But in terms of the last shot, which Dave and I just knew from pretty early on that was gonna be our last shot, and it felt right. We don’t know much about Crozier’s biography, you know? For all we know that child could be his, it may not. We actually didn’t want to fill in too much of the coloring book at that point. It’s up to the audience to describe whether or not that last shot is--it’s interesting ‘cause we had this big argument, lovely argument in the color suite, the grading suite, of how we grade that last shot. Whether we grade it bright and sunny to be optimistic, or we grade it with a lot of contrast and stamp down a lot of the light to make it seem that, you know, there’s a sense--a harshness, to this reality. And in some ways we split the middle, so the audience can decide whether or not the life Crozier has at the end is one of punishment, reckoning, or whether or not he will move on and have something different.
DK: And I think something in that final shot that certainly we couldn’t have planned, that tipped things in a warmer direction was the child that plays that boy in the shot, who’s meant to be sleeping against Crozier as he’s waiting at the seal hole, really fell asleep because he was wrapped up in fur, and Jared’s a very welcoming person, and he fell asleep. And in the middle of that shot he twitches in his sleep, like children do. And I think that if you catch that it’s quite undeniably a warm moment. You don’t know whether that’s Crozier’s son, whether that’s just a friend’s son, someone he’s taking care of, but you do get a sense that there is a community and that it’s a warm one, even though that life will be difficult and he will occupy no position of leadership in that world, he will be--you know, he’s missing a hand at that point, it’s going to be a rough rough road ahead of him, but we decided to sort of be as ambiguous as we could but for that child who twitches in his sleep, which we just loved that, that that’s a part of that final shot of the show.
DS: Now you’ve made me wanna go back watch that scene about ten times. I think you did at the ending essentially what you chose to do throughout the series, which is to trust in the intelligence and the sensibilities of the audience. So in that sense I like it a lot, but I admire it too. It just, I’m just sentimental, I just want Crozier finally to find somebody.
[show audio]
[”The Gates of Paradise” by Robert Fripp, which is the music from that aforementioned final scene of Crozier and the little boy asleep at the seal hole, plays]
SH: And with episode ten, the story of the Franklin Expedition on AMC is completed. And Dave, you’ve been working on this project now for ten or twelve years, I’ve been on it for two and a half years, Adam you’ve been on this journey for a long time, Dan you’ve probably been--how long has it been for you?
DS: Oh, since about 1994!
SH: Yeah, wow. I mean, what is it about this story that means it’s hard to let go? Even now I feel like there’s a grieving process that I feel like I have.
DS: I know why it’s hard to let go. You created real people, you did something that is incredibly rare I think, for any media, movies, series, anything. They’re real people, and when they suffer the viewer suffers with them. When they try to fight back and survive, that’s the viewer’s impression, and we’re sorry to see each one of them go, including Hickey. So, I think there’s a success in what you set out to do.
SH: We’re just so thrilled that, you know, you gave us the trust to do your book but also that you love it! We were so nervous that you would hate this adaptation!
[laughter]
DK: Well and now what’s amazing is we all get to sort of take a seat in the theater of real history playing out again, now that they’ve discovered the ships. You know, we’ve been told by Parks Canada and by people we’ve met who are actively on the archeological expeditions now, dives to the ships, that there is a chance that they will find a ship’s log, and that all of the questions that have come up and perplexed us and preoccupied us and fascinated us in the researching of both the writing of the novel and the creating of the television show, that those questions may have answers soon. And so now we are all now back in that position of being riveted by this actual history. And what a treat it will be to have a conversation in a year when we have learned hopefully much more about what actually happened on this expedition.
[“The Gates of Paradise” begins playing again softly in the background]
DS: If I were on the expedition ship and found the log, the diaries, everything, I would hide them.
[laughter]
DK: Agreed.
AN: Yep, absolutely.
DS: I mean we’ve all done a lot of work here, who cares about reality?
[laughter]
DK: Well thank you, Adam, thank you Dan, for joining us, Soo and I have had a fantastic time having this extended conversation that hopefully is interesting to people who have watched and appreciated the show. So thank you for the opportunity to do it, it’s been fantastic to talk to you both, and onwards we go, into the future!
SH: Onwards ho!
DS: Onward.
AN: Onward. Thank you so much guys, it’s been a pleasure.
DK: Thank you, and thank you for everyone who’ve watched the show and thank you for everyone who’ve read the novel, and we can’t wait to hear your feedback!
[“The Gates of Paradise” fades out]
#the terror#the terror amc#dave kajganich#soo hugh#dan simmons#adam nagaitis#the minds behind the terror#personal#aaah the last one! we're finished!#as always lmk if you catch any mistakes and google docs link will be in the reblogs#this has been a great project and i hope this was helpful for you guys!#<3
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The Fool on the Hill - Chapter 4
The secret behind the Two Gentlemen of Verona and the beginning of Lokius...
Their story on the Archive
Between the shelves
*
Tom’s fingers slid over the spines of the books along the shelves.
MayaAngelou...
William Blake...
Robert Frost...
Ah there we are Shakespeare's poems...
He took an edition of Shakespeare’s poems before 1640 out of the shelf and sat cross legged on the floor.
Camera and lights had to be relocated for the shoot in the library and Tom thought he might spend the break doing something useful.
“Sir?” he heard Owen’s voice imitating a stern security guard, “I’m afraid reading on the floor is prohibited. I have to ask you to get up immediately.”
Tom looked up to a smiling Owen and smiled back. “Why don’t you come down?”
And he did. Owen sat down, leaning at the book shelf opposite, his legs drawn up, smiling at Tom.
“So Shakespeare again?” his head pointed to the book Tom held in his hand.
Tom laughed softly. “Yes, the conversation yesterday got me thinking again.”
Owen nodded and smiled in amusement. “Maybe I get myself a copy of Hamlet to read before bed. What do you think?”
“Good choice, good choice,” Tom reassured him.
And he couldn’t help smiling either. They had been doing this a lot lately. Talking and constantly smiling at each other.
Owen leaned forward to search for the right book, his fingers now also sliding over the spines.
“Ah look at that!” He pulled out a copy of Two gentlemen of Verona and waved it in his hand.
“I read this in college. I always thought: this is about two bisexual guys, right? And the teacher was like,” he mimicked an older Brit, “oh no, this is Shakespearian English, it’s a bit different than you are used to, I guess. He was from England and wanted to show me that I as a stupid kid from Texas could not understand Shakespeare...”
“And oh how wrong they were about you...” Tom remarked and hoped, it didn’t sound like he was blushing.
He imagined Owen in high school and how he got underestimated just because of the way he was. Tom certainly would have loved being Owen’s friend back then.
Owen opened the book. “Aaah, I remember it now. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus:
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.” He looked at Tom. “That already sounded somewhat gay to me. All these sweet words they have for each other…”
Tom’s heart began to pound. He had been looking for the right moment to tell Owen.
He had talked with Owen about Loki before they began shooting and of course he had mentioned that Loki was bisexual. Owen had been surprised but not in a bad way. He had said something like “Okay, good for him.”
So Tom could assume that Owen wasn’t homophobic. But still, what would he say when he knew Tom was bisexual himself? And Tom even wondered about Owen himself?
Tom had the feeling that Owen was flirting with him. But Tom had flirted with his straight friends, too, so that could mean absolutely nothing. And he would hate it for the flirting to stop just because Owen was suddenly insecure about knowing Tom was bi.
So Tom just said, “Look, this is interesting as well,” and showed Owen the book with the poems. “These are the poems by Shakespeare. And this is an edition with the original text, where a lot of poems are directed to… men. And later they were published again by a publicist called John Benson. But he changed most of the pronouns from he and him to she and her.”
“Wow…that’s… outrageous! I didn’t even know that... You really know a lot of that stuff. Not just Hamlet.” Owen smiled at him. “Maybe we should start a new lecture, the Shakespeare lecture.”
Tom laughed in embarrassment. He knew he was a nerd and got on people’s nerves with this whole stuff.
“You know, I always could kinda relate to Shakespeare somehow.” Owen said, looking at him, intently. “I always felt we shared some similar… feelings. It felt somehow familiar.”
Tom felt a little dizzy hearing this.
He still could be misinterpreting this.
But he had heard Owen say that and he thought he just had to act on it.
So he looked a bit left and right to see if there was anyone near them and said, “I know what you mean, I always felt the same. Because he wrote for both, you know. For women and for men.”
He cried out inside. Why was this still so hard to just say it? He was 39 for Christ’s sake.
But he probably got it right after all, because Owen nodded slowly, his face all soft, his smile reassuring, knowing.
“It was nice, by the way, there at the table. I loved that," Owen said after a little pause. "That Loki would sleep in front of Mobius.”
Tom became a little embarrassed. “I just felt that it would fit. Because he trusts Mobius. That’s new for him. And there’s a scene later on with Sylvie where he says that he can’t sleep around people he can’t trust. So… I wanted this to match. I’m glad Kate went along with it.”
The look that Owen gave him was kind of mischievous…
“I think we should talk about the relationship between Loki and Mobius a bit more… dig a bit deeper. Because I think there is a lot to show that’s not necessarily in the script. You know I was lying in my bed yesterday, imagining Mobius lying in his bed, thinking about Loki. Yes, he’s obsessed with him but I think there’s so much more. He really cares for him, you know.”
And the way Owen said “he cares for him”, God, Tom’s heart immediately began racing again. And he thought he would burst. He felt so much joy and so much love and so much excitement that he was probably grinning like a clown.
Yes, they already talked about the relationship between Loki and Mobius a lot, how much these character could give to each other… but they hadn’t taken it to another level… yet. Honestly, when he first read the script, he didn’t see it either. But with Owen now here on set… it was getting better every day.
“I’d love that,” he said softly.
And Owen just smiled at him. And then something happened that Tom hadn’t expected. Owen leaned his head back on the shelf and began to talk quietly.
“You know, there was this boy. Charly. We were best friends, from a young age, you know sandbox friends. And we were doing everything together. And one day when we were like 9 or 10 or something he asked me ‘Should we kiss?´ like he would ask me `Wanna go for a ride?´, as if this was just something you just do with a best friend. So we kissed.” Owen smiled in memory of this. “And it was nice… It felt good… So now and then we would make out… And… a few years later he would ask me `Should be jerk off?´ and I again was like ´Why not´… so we jerked off together” He shook his head as if he himself couldn’t believe that really had happened. “So until we were 18 we pretty much did everything one could do in this… area. We had girlfriends from time to time. We were crazy about them. But with Charly… it felt always different, more like coming home, something you could always go back to. It was comforting. And all the time it felt like it was the most natural thing in the world.” He sighed and looked at the floor, lost in thoughts. “If there hadn’t been the people to tell you otherwise…”
Tom didn’t know how to breathe, didn’t know what to say. He was so overwhelmed about Owen’s endearing story, and the sadness behind it. And that he had shared it with him….
“TOOOM? OWEN??” Lea, the production assistant, was searching for them and calling their names until she finally found them between the shelves. “How should I find you here?” she reprimanded them. “It’s all set up!”
“Sorry…” Tom and Owen answered simultaneously and helped each other get up.
Owen straightened himself and turned to Tom.
“Meet me at section F for Fitzgerald at the next break?”
Tom laughed softly. “Sure!”
And while he said this, his heart fluttered in his chest excited about what would happen in section F.
*
#hiddlewow#widdlewow#rpf#loki fanfiction#widdlewow fanfiction#the fool on the hill#chapter 4#loki series#tom hiddleston/owen wilson#tom hiddleston#owen wilson
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@flyingpurplepeopleeater42 this one’s for you <3 Also thanks to both you and @fluffypotatey for hyping up my previous posts so that I got the confidence to continue my endless ramble.
I’m your problem now :)
In the Merlin discord I’m a part of, it was brought to my attention that Gwaine and the Green Knight would make for a great episode because if done right it could confirm Gwaine as Queer, and that is 100% correct my friend and here’s my take on that:
I don’t want to follow the real story too closely because it gives me ‘Morgana is horrible at being a villain’ and ‘moral of the story is don’t be a fucking coward’ kind of fairy tail vibes so let’s ✨spice it up a bit✨(and make it gay)
I imagine the episode starting with a hooded figure walking through the citadel of Camelot, towards the castle, while ominous music plays, because if there was one good thing about BBCM, it was the soundtrack. Maybe a servant passes the figure and kind of looks back at them like “what the fresh hell was that” then continues on her merry way because strange people are above her pay grade and honestly she’s having a hard time keeping herself from going full-on alcoholic as it is. She doesn’t need anymore weird shit in her life. Anyway cut to the banquet hall that we’ve seen a few times, Arthur at the head of the table, Merlin and Gwen gossiping behind him, The knights in their respective seats talking amongst themselves, haughty nobles entertaining each other, (if you get my meaning) basically everyone’s having a pretty good time. This will parallel the banquet scene that the original myth starts with, when a green man rides in and tells them all to cut his head off
The banquet ends pretty late in the night, everyone’s full with the cooks horrible delicious food, and Gwaine and Elyan are walking back to their chambers together. From the way the camera is moving we can tell we’re seeing everything from some hidden person’s POV, as they kind of stalk Gwaine and Elyan. Because I refuse to let a single second of this spinoff not be dedicated to the knights characterization, we can just barely hear Gwaine and Elyan’s conversation and it goes a little something like this:
Gwaine: (about Percival) Has he given you any stupid nicknames yet? He calls me ‘little man’.
(reference to that one (1) time Percy called him that)
Elyan: He calls me Sir Short Legs :(
And then Creepy Hooded Figure of the Week rushes up and grabs Gwaine’s wrist and Gwaine spins around kinda panicky like ‘wtf who just touched me’ and surprise!! he knows the person!! We see in the corner of the screen that the figure is taking off his hood. Maybe Gwaine’s eyes widen in surprise and he tries to back away. Next to him, Elyan looks like he’s just shit himself. But then Gwaine squints, looking closer at the person we have yet to see, like they’re familiar, somehow. “Bertilak? Is that you?”
Cut to Bertilak’s face, which is super ugly, mind you. His skin is green and his eyes are bright red and in all honesty he looks like an orc from Lord of the Rings. He tells Gwaine he needs his help. And cut to the new opening titles (which I may or may not be thinking of editing into existence) for ~dramatic effect~
When the opening titles are over we see Elyan closing the door to Gwaine’s chamber behind him as Gwaine leads Bertilak over to the bed. Elyan stops Gwaine for a moment.
Elyan: Remind me again what the hell that is and how you know it?
Gwaine: That’s Bertilak. He doesn’t usually look like that. We had a thing a while back.
Bertilak: *nods solemnly*
Elyan, definitely not jealous in any way shape or form: Define ‘thing’
Anyway as it turns out, Bertilak was a childhood friend of Gwaines. Noble, like he was, but he didn’t act it, so it was easy to forget. Bertilak’s family was close with Gwaine’s dad, and kept visiting his mom after his dad died out of awkward pity, and thats how they met. Gwaine, Bertilak, and Yvain would get into countless messes together as kids. I’m obsessed with Gwaine and Yvain now can you tell? Eventually Bertilak settled down while Gwaine and Yvain wanted to travel Albion, so they split up. But not before that ‘thing’ Gwaine mentions. (Gwaine falls in love will all of his friends at some point and I love him for it)
Surprise surprise, Bertilak’s cursed. They have to help him lift the curse or whatever, but for some reason they need Lancelot’s help, maybe they need a map idk I just really wanna include Lance in one of these, shut up. Anyway our boy Lance saves the day, they go on this journey or whatever, and its super fun for about 2 seconds. (Either Elyan tags along or he stays behind to let Arthur know what Gwaine’s up too. “I believe he is currently fucking an old friend, sire. Did I say fucking? I meant... um... helping. He’s helping an old friend.”)
Somewhere along the way Gwaine meets Bertilak’s wife and just goes full gwaine mode:
Gwaine, bending down to kiss her hand: And who might you be? ;)
Bertilak: That’s my wife.
Gwaine:
Somehow, someway, Gwaine finds a little green belt and some old crone or whatever tells him ‘this belt will make you invincible :)’ (she's lying its just a placebo but he doesn't know that. This parallels the ‘magic’ green belt Gwaine gets in the legend) Gwaine thinks he should wear the belt for good luck, but Bertilak, ever the responsible one since his childhood with himbo 1 and 2, glares at him and Gwaine gently puts it down like, “Then again maybe not.”
They save the day at the end, undo the curse, Bertilak doesn’t look like a fucking gremlin anymore, and Queer Gwaine is confirmed. Everyone wins :)
#how'd I do#BBC Knights#merlin#bbcm#bbc merlin#i feel a little guilty that I didn’t quite stick to the script with this one#but you know what#the fisher king was supposed to be evil and be bested by Percival Galahad and Lance#so if anyone has an issue with my inaccuracy you can take it up with BBC#they did it first#Himbos of the Round Table#Daffodils and Chrysanthemums
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Hey everyone! Sorry for another long hiatus, I’m still alive- even if I look like a zombie every morning 🙈😂. I have really bad baby brain at the moment so if there’s some grammatical errors, please ignore them. They will be rectified before posting.
⚠️Please do not read if you are under 18⚠️
A/N1: Whilst I’ve been on hiatus I have been editing a few things of mine, so have decided to do a Sneak Peek/ WIP. There will be warnings for each specific series.
A/N2: @callmeellabella / @plumeriavibes sent me a few requests to do over a year ago- they are completed and I hope to post this week. Technically here in the UK we are still in lockdown - so they will still be apt, Ella 😂
Tags- As always I tag my combined tag list for these things⬇️
@drakexwillow @annekebbphotography @kingliam2019 @burnsoslow @kimmiedoo5 @lodberg @walker7519 @drakewalkerisreal @axwalker @bascmve01 @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater @queenjilian @drakewalker04 @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @rainbowsinthestorm @desiree-pow @jared2612 @twinkle-320 @princessleac1 @custaroonie @princess-geek @bebepac @nikkis1983 @rafasgirl23415 @seriouslybadchoices @furiousherringoperatortoad @shanzay44 @choices97 @gardeningourmet @lovablegranny @mom2000aggie @gkittylove99 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @rubiwalker
Cordonian Wags
⚠️ Warnings - Possible adultery? 🤷♀️
“Miss Brooks, please.” Standing up slowly, her legs felt like jelly. Following the sonographer into the room, she laid on the bed before slowly raising her top which revealed a small neat bump. The image that all the paparazzi had been so desperate to capture.
“Before we begin, are there any questions that you’d like to ask?” The woman calmly asked as she prepared to begin the scan.
“Every baby is a miracle, right?”
“Yes, of course they are. There’s no need to be worried. Everything will be fine.” Obviously the health of the baby was a priority- but in her situation there were other queries that were lingering throughout her mind.
“Your baby is going to be either a footballer or a gymnast. Look at its legs, it’s such a wriggle bum.” For the first time since entering the room, she slowly turned her head and viewed her baby for the first time. “The baby’s heartbeat is fine... you have a very active and healthy baby. I have no concerns. How many copies of the photo would you like?” Answering one, she ran her finger over the black and white shot. Just you and I, little one.
“Can I ask one question?”
“Of course!”
“With these scans... I may sound stupid, which I have been recently in the last few months. My question... it’s ridiculous. I already deep down know the answer but can you tell certain things such as the baby’s race? Grandparents DNA?” The medical professional sat down close to her, holding her hand that was shaking as she spoke those words.
“Unfortunately not.... is there....”
“Let me rephrase my question... is there anyway that you can tell who the father is?”
****
A Proposal
There are two WIP for this series. A one shot based on Bertrand as well as a sneak peek for the upcoming chapter. If you don’t read the series, the one shot can be read as a stand alone.
⚠️Warnings: Swearing, nudity, possible ‘affair’.
One shot
Regretting his idiotic split second decision, Bertrand was now locked out of his room. Wearing a skimpy towel that barely just covered up his manhood. Due to the alcohol consumption- his brain was barely functioning as he began to ‘walk’ along the corridor. Rounding the corner, he spotted two familiar faces- then stumbled knocking down a painting off of the wall.
“Your highness! Ri Ri... good evening.” Both sets of eyes widened, mainly for two reasons. The first one being, witnessing Bertrand in this state. The second reason- would the Duke remember seeing them together. Alone. Did he see Liam lock his lips onto Riley’s? They would sure find out in the morning, once the group reformed.
“I wonder where everybody else is? Where’s the staff in this place?” Bertrand muttered to himself as he entered the elevator. Reaching the ground floor, the drunk duke strolled out not having a care in the world.
“Sir? You cannot walk around like that. Please return to your room immediately!”
“I’m locked out!” Wafting his arms in the air- the towel soon disappeared. Creating jaws in the reception to drop to the floor in sync. “What? Have you never seen a naked man before?”
“Sir... please....” The young receptionist pleaded.
“If I hear you say ‘Sir’ one more time, I will get the prince to lock you up in his dungeon.... I AM A FUCKING DUKE YOU IMBECILE!” To avoid more of a commotion, the receptionist handed Bertrand a sign to hold against his private parts. Out of order. To cover his buttocks up- she handed him another sign; No exit.
Chapter 2
Riley headed down to the hotel lobby, mainly needing to grab some breakfast to sober up. Still feeling slightly drunk, she had debated whether or not to eat or do the hair of the dog.
“Blossom! There you are!” Jumping out of her skin to begin with- she was relieved when Maxwell was on his own.
“Here I am...” Where should I have been? Did I miss a memo?
“I was so worried about you.”
“You were?”
“Yes. We’ve lost Liam. Then I came to find you and couldn’t see you anywhere. Bertrand- well I found him naked on the bathroom floor. With two... forget about Bertrand. Where have you been? You smell manly. Have you ran out of that black opium already?”
“Well I was in my room all night. The jet lag must have knocked me unconscious...” Lying, she didn’t want to admit that she had a blissful night with the prince. “What do you mean I smell manly?” Having a discreet sniff of herself, she couldn’t smell anything.
“You smell of aftershave. It’s similar to what Drake and Liam wear. Are you sure that you was alone?” Shit.
“Erm, I fell over on the way down here. A man who works here helped me. He must have been wearing the same aftershave. There’s not only people in Cordonia who wear it Max! Although I did bump into Daniel at some point. It could have been him? I was on my own, all night. Believe me.” Please believe me.
****
The American Adventure
Warnings: Swearing
“Riley?” The line cut off.
It wasn’t her, that’s why she hung up. How useless is Glen? We are looking for Leo. Unless Leo has a secret that he’s keeping from us all.
“Hey, Li. Wrong number. Fuck it, forget about Leo. If we can’t track him down we will just go to New York without him. As Bastien said, you need to have a bachelor party before the shit show of a social season begins.” Liam didn’t require Drake to remind him of what his future held for him. The lack of freedom and choices he could have made him wish at times that he wasn’t now the next in line.
“Glen was sure that was the correct number.” Liam glared at his head guard, who just shrugged his shoulders.
“Unless Leo’s turned into some obnoxious Yankee bitch- then no it’s the wrong number. I’ll just go and pack a bag and come back with you. Give me five minutes.” Waiting for Drake to be out of view, Glen gulped before defending himself to his monarch.
“That was the number that you provided me with your highness- and I confirmed it. Somebody else must have that number now. Not, Riley.”
“Glen, once we get back to the palace- do another thorougher search on Lindsey and Riley Brooks.” Liam whispered.
“But, your highness... you’ve been trying to do this for over a decade now. Myself and Bastien - we tried....”
“Glen, don’t question my actions. Please. I am pleading with you to do this one more time. Bastien always avoided doing this for myself. For Drake. I don’t know why? But it seemed like he knew something but kept it from the both of us. If we can’t find them, then I’ll accept defeat.”
“Yes Sir, what about Prince Leo?”
“Leave Leo to me, I already know where he is. He’s closer to us than you all think.”
***
The Unexpected Roommate
Just a short sneak peek for this one. Don’t want to give too much away.
Pairings: Drake x Riley, Leo x Olivia, Liam x ?
⚠️Warnings: Swearing, pranks, alcohol mention, end of a relationship.
Once she had packed all of her belongings, she looked around the apartment- feeling slightly sentimental. Leaving the keys on the table, she didn’t want to keep them. Instead, she wanted to close this chapter of her life- being Drake Walker’s roommate.
“Shit! The cupcakes!” Racing over to the oven- she had completely forgotten about her goodbye gesture that was now impersonating a charcoaled sausage. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Emptying the cupboards, food items were now scattered everywhere until she stumbled across a basic Victoria sponge cake. That’ll do.
~ ~ ~
Drake and Leo returned to the apartment- slightly later than the two of them had anticipated. Whilst they sat in the bar, Drake thought back to Riley’s words. Regretting denying that she could be correct, he had hoped that she would have reconsidered about staying with Olivia. He needed to apologise, talk openly to her- before he lost her for good.
“It’s ‘oh so quiet’... awww she’s made us a cake with a message on it, Drake.”
Au reviour, Dickheads...Ri xo
“She’s a fucking scruff! Have you seen all of the burnt cupcakes? The washing up pile? Food everywhere! She’s fucked off and not cleaned up after herself!”
“Drake, calm down. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack. How the two of you lived together and not killed each other is beyond me. Let’s tuck in.” Drake shook his head as he watched Leo dive in like a starved caveman. Staring vacantly at the scene surrounding them, he had no idea where to begin to clean up after Riley.
“This is disgusting! It tastes weird... just try a bit, buddy. I think my taste buds are playing tricks with me.” Taking one glance at the cake, Drake rolled his eyes back after inhaling the aroma of the sponge cake.
“It tastes weird because it’s not what you’d usually top a cake or dessert with. How stupid could you be eating something before smelling it?”
“It looked soooo scrumptious. When you’ve been drinking, you’re starving. What is it then Mr Clever clogs?” Leo sarcastically said.
“You use it with a razor!”
****
Unnamed one shot
I decided to do a one shot based on my labour of my little girl. It was short in comparison to most labours- but so much happened. Looking back now, I find it slightly hilarious.
⚠️Warnings: Alcohol mention, labour.
Ten minutes later- Savannah knocked on the door. Wearing her pajamas, Ugg boots and a parka coat- Riley knew it was cold outside, it was December after all. But she believed that Savannah would have come fully dressed as she had taken a long time to arrive when she lives on the next road. As she entered the house- she witnessed her brother pouring whiskey into his cup of tea. Shaking. Panicking. Wondering how the labour was going to go. Would he be a good birth partner again? Would it all go to plan?
“Great minds, bro.” As she said this, a can of Strongbow magically appeared from her coat pocket. Bitches I’m the one in labour, why are you both drinking alcohol?
“Can you one of you just get me some pain relief please? It’s in the top drawer...” Savannah looked at Drake with a perplexed expression, wondering what Riley meant with her words. Lucky Drake knew what his girlfriend was referring to. He didn’t agree with her choice. But also wouldn’t want her to turn into ‘she hulk’ if he refused to give her it.
#choices trr#trr fanfic#WIP#sneak peek#the royal romance#the royal romance a/u#drake x Riley#drake x mc#Liam x Riley#Liam x mc#drake walker#Riley Brooks#Liam Rys#maxwell beaumont#maxwell x riley#tw: adult language#tw: adultery#tw:alcohol mention
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Dress part 2
so this is dress from Audrey rose’s perspective. i loved writing this. i finished it a few weeks back and its been slowly edited. i am working on other things, but i can feel my brain slolwy stop working, and i’m failing miserably.
This party is dreadful. Beautiful, but dreadful. The only things that are interesting to me is looking at the gowns being worn and the intricate details I discovered when observing them. And Thomas. But I refuse to acknowledge the latter and fix my gaze on a pale pink dress, little gems of dark pink lining the neckline flowed down the bottom of the dress. My own was of a pale green and blue, the top being blue and slowly turning green, with gems in little pockets so that if I were to dance, to spin, there would just be a flash of colour. It is a shame I will not be dancing tonight. Originally my dress was going to be a deep purple with white pearls around the neckline but I may have overheard Thomas talking to his carriage driver about his own outfit for tonight and may have decided against the purple.
My eyes move away from the gown and find Thomas who is conversing with an old man that I assume is his father. From the scowl on Thomas's face one can assume his father must be a pleasant conversationalist. Then Thomas's gaze slides away from his father and meets mine almost immediately, as if he was waiting for my eyes to find his, or that he could feel my gaze. A smirk replaces his scowl and I try to ignore the blush creeping onto my cheeks as I look away quickly; to find my cousin’s face fixed on mine, and eyebrows raised as she took in my expresion. She took her own gaze at Thomas, then winks at me and I scowl slightly. All night I had been stealing looks at Thomas, to try and notice all the details in his suit. He looked incredibly handsome in his midnight blue and black clothing, his hair brushed back and a permanent look of boredom and contemptment on his face. Apart from when he caught me looking. Then his lips quirked up in a smirk that I wanted to smack off.
It takes all my common sense to stay rooted in my seat and not walk over and ask Thomas to dance. Yet all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipating our next encounter was starting to weigh on my chest, hoarding control over my senses. It was infuriating. My mind was still convinced I did not ever need a husband, yet my mind also wondered about a life where Thomas was by my side. Every time I did the weight would increase slightly and I had no idea how to fix this. We were not even meant to be friends, uncle had warned me a few times when I had gone to investigate something on his behalf, that Thomas was trouble. Yet it always seemed he disliked Mr.Douglas more, and was miserable about the fact we did not have Thomas's particular skill sets on our side.
“It is most important for you young girls to attend not just tea parties, but parties.” Aunt Amilia was saying to us. Liza looked exceptional tonight, her dress was golden yellow with lilac accents. She had been very excited about tonight, about the prospects of romance and the fact she did not attend such things when trapped in the countryside; even though I hadn't been looking forward to tonight, her excitement was invigorating.
I let my aunt and cousin talk as I mess with the bottom of my glass. Attending tonight meant that there was another chance for our murderer to strike, another victim to add to his growing list. I shuddered at the thought of seeing another horrific scene; a woman cut open and dispatched as though she was worth nothing. Uncle and I had conducted post mortems on all the unfortunate women, they all seemed to have similar inflicting wounds yet they were worse each time. Uncle claims our murder is getting more confident as he is taunting the Scotland Yard. As much as I enjoy the magical atmosphere the ball produced; I couldn't help but think it a waste of time. There must be more we could do to find who our perpetrator was. Thomas and I had been discussing theories over the course of the last month whenever we found ourselves together, and even with our skills combined we were no closer than when we started. It certainly didn't help that we kept getting distracted. Thomas is an excellent flirt and seems to want to do just that all the time. It did not help that my mind kept drifting back to our kiss either. I had to keep convincing myself it was the adrenaline that caused me to kiss him, not the fact I had grown to like him very much.
I kept thinking about how his hands burnt my skin, electrifying me and it made me drunk on his touch. I kept wondering what would happen to me if we were to kiss again and if I would be able to control myself. To not drown in his touch.
I caught another glance of him, but his eyes were already upon mine. I looked away just as Mr.Douglas appeared at his side. I slid my eyes back to him as he begrudgingly spoke to his boss. Thomas scowled at something he said.
“Audrey Rose, would you like another glass of champagne brought to you?” Liza asks, capturing my attention away from Thomas. I had only had one and it couldn't hurt to nurse another tonight. So I nodded and watched Aunt Amila gesture to the waiters to bring a glass for me as well as some food for Liza. My glass is replaced and I try to ignore the growing boredom I have.
“May I borrow your daughter for a dance, sir?” The smooth voice of Mr. Thomas Cresswell appears to my left. Slowly I look at him, trying to hide my confusion. And longing. I would very much like to dance with Thomas. I would like to know how it feels to dance with him, whether he can dance. Yet we were not meant to be friends, surely Uncle will notice the fact we are, and perhaps scold me for it. My father looks over at him, surly registering who he is, who his father is and the title he holds. He gives a tight smile. Father is still slowly recovering from his opium addiction. Aunt Amilia arrived so she can keep an eye on him and it makes me happier to see him be less tired. Yet it does cause problems if I need to visit my Uncle. Nathaniel narrows his eyes at Thomas, surly bemused at why his apparent robotic friend would want to dance with me. However he gives a more genuine smile than my father does. Then Uncle scowls. I would much rather face the killer's knife than be in Thomas's position right now. I look towards where Liza is trying stilfe her giggles and can't help but smile too.
“Cert-” My father begins, but does not get far before my Uncle cuts in. Of course he would. Normally he would not care. I am still shocked my Aunt managed to convince him to leave his laboratory for this.
“No.”
“What do you mean no? She's my daughter I suggest you-”
“No. Mr. Cresswell, what are you doing? You do not wish to seek out my niece for the case do you? If so, leave now.” I see Thomas wince slightly, but smile before quickly looking at me and answering:
“No sir, I can see why you'd think that but I truly wish to dance. Your daughter is captivating.” His smooth words wash over me, the honesty in his tone fills my bones, making me more light headed than the champagne ever could.
“I shall dance with you Mr. Cresswell.” I interject before anyone else can speak on my behalf. Thomas is the only one I had wanted to dance with. I make my way to the dance floor, giddy with excitement. My hands shake slightly from the need to hold him.
“I'm glad you saved me. I've been dreadfully bored.” I tell him as he places his hands on my waist, my own finding his shoulder. I forget how tall he is sometimes. I would have to go on my tiptoes if I were to kiss him and he would need to bend to find my lips. He laughs at my words and everything about him relaxes slightly as we begin to dance. Each step is filled with confidence. Of course he'd be perfect at dancing.
“I'll always be the one to save you Wadsworth. I am your Dark Prince. Be sure to think about me and my heroic nature whenever you're alone.” Once again I ignore the blush making my cheeks it’s home and focus on his smirk. His ridiculously arrogant smirk.
“Please; I have more important things to consider than you.”
“You look beautiful, Audrey Rose.The dress is magnificent, compliments you perfectly,” he must be making the connection to his own outfit and contemplating the implications behind it; “although completely unnecessary, I'm sure you are perfectly capable of rendering me speechless without a dress on at all.” Or not. The fiend just wanted to shamelessly flirt with me. To make my skin turn hot and cold all at once while I consider his implications. His eyes hold promise and he no longer wears his impenetrable mask with force. It makes him look younger, more like the man I have grown to know and not the cruel beast society believes him to be.
“You claim I render you speechless yet you still speak? Are you lying or just horribly bad at compliments? Or, you hate the dress but need to charm me nonetheless?” Despite his vaulnrability I must not allow him to have the upper hand in this conversation or I shall never live it down.
“Wadsworth, darling, please; do you really think that little of me? I'm merely stating the obvious, it's what I do best. And I don't need to charm you when you are already infatuated with me. If I were you I would be. And as much as you truly render me speechless with your brilliant mind, I adore your body too, an added bonus, but I will always be able to tell you how astonishing you look.” He looks ready to kiss me, and I know if he did I would let him. It would be quite the scandal but I do not care at this point. We flirt, tease and taunt each other endlessly but it pains me that we do not get to do it as often as we wish. That I do not get to learn each side of Thomas, like this charming man who holds me tightly, as though if he let go of me I'd disappear. I feel as though I might if he did. I search for any lie, anything but the same pain I must be showing on my face. Instead of a kiss, unfortunately, he pinches my sides lightly, as if conveying his words to me. I pinch him back and we smile, content in our own little world.
“It is a good job you are not me then isn't it?” My voice is barely above a whisper and we both know my words hold little bite. People were fools to think Thomas was anything other than lovable. He may be in pain most of the time but that was a part of his charm.
He clears his throat, attempting to control himself, “I've enjoyed the game tonight, our secret moments in this crowded room no one knows about. Each little glance at me gives my heart a rush. Makes it worth being at this blastidly boring event. I've missed you.”
‘I’ve missed you.’
The three words repeat over and over in mind. We spoke this week yet in my bones I understand what he means. We haven't truly discussed our kiss; or our feelings. We are both too wrapped up in our individual fears. Yet even with the confession we dance in comfortable silence.
“When does this get easier?” My voice is quiet for a completely different reason than before. Our eyes meet and I find myself captivated by him, the fact my best friend is not perceived as my friend. A secret that neither of us ever wanted to keep. “I want to stay with you all night, but after this we must return to our lives, I go back to being judged for my curiosity and you will go back to the animatronic villain the world thinks you are. When does it get easier Thomas?”
He contemplates for a moment, his eyes flashing all sorts of emotion before turning to that calculated gaze that feels somehow more intimate than before. If he has an idea on how to make this all better then I have no intention of stopping him.
“Wadsworth, how much does your Uncle hate me?”
“He doesn't hate you, at least I don’t think he does. He- he isn't a person who gives positive opinions on anyone. Even me. But no, I do not think he hates you, just Mr. Douglas. Oh but he doesn't like that you are working against us. For him no less.'' I have believed for some time my Uncle would like Thomas to work with us and attend his school. He never technically speaks ill of him, but of who he works for. I’m half convinced Uncle is upset Thomas did not go to him first.
“It's not ideal, I despise him, he doesn't care about the cases, but of the fame; it makes me near vomit whenever he speaks about the women- or any woman for that matter.” Uncle had said the same thing a few times to me.
“Audrey Rose, if I were to quit would your uncle offer me an apprenticeship?”
“I think so but why?”
“There are more benefits in working with your Uncle than that egotistical man. The main one being right in front of me.'' I gasp slightly and stop for a second. Once again Thomas has left me speechless at how vulnerable he is for me, at how his words caress me and hold such promises that make us both slightly afraid. There was so much wrongness in the world, so much that confused me and left me stranded. Perhaps that is why I relish science so much, in finding out facts from the deceased because they could never lie to me, never hold my brain in such misery that I feel ill. Maybe the familiar feeling of carving open a body meant that it was the only sure thing I knew. That was before Thomas.
Now I know two things for sure. For the most part. Thomas would always baffle me but in the most delightful ways.
Finally I mustered the courage to speak. “You could talk to my uncle tonight, I'm sure he'd much rather discuss the case or anything remotely close to work rather than listening to my Aunt.”
“Would you want me to work alongside you Wadsworth because if not I can-” he would always allow me a choice, but he would always doubt himself too. So I snapped my head up from where I was staring at his chest. His eyes flash as he misunderstands my movements.
“Do not finish that sentence Thomas. Of course I want you to work with me and my Uncle.”
“My brilliance is desperately needed isn't it? I mean you cannot resist my charm.” He adds a wink, lightning the tone and making me roll my eyes in the process.
“No, I'm merely the one saving you from that- that man before he rots the only decent part of your brain.” Half truth, half a lie. I relish in our easy banter.
“If you are the one saving me, will you be like the heroes in the books, because I do recall that they always give their saved maidans a kiss once they are saved?” I blush again at his words, but more so the memory of his lips on mine.
We had been investigating when two ruffians attacked, so we fled to safety in an alleyway. With one look we were both upon each other, clinging desperately as our lips met, the feeling of being lost in him, the feeling of his hair beneath my gloves. Of the sweetest kiss he added after we broke apart. Even after then Thomas had doubted his actions slightly and apologized but in that moment I didn't care about anything but him. I'd seen a new side to him that night, one I wished to witness again.
We were coming to the end of our second dance, any more would be considered improper. Thomas seemed to stumble onto that fact too as his grip tightened ever so slightly. Just enough for me to notice. I doubt even his impressive deduction skills noticed his own movement as he was too fixated on my face. It made me smile slightly. Even as I knew I'd have to break apart and return to my table. To Liza's knowing smile and teases, to the males scowling and whatever my Aunt thought.
Slowly I let go of him, the music coming back into my head, as though I had stopped paying attention to it. We walk back to my table and I take my seat, hand going onto my glass as I calm my heart. Thomas stands there awkwardly by the empty chair, so I kick it slightly with a smile playing at my lips. He scowled but sat down. I tried desperately to ignore my cousin, I knew she watched me dance and would inform me of her opinions on it and on Thomas.
Everyone at the table is silent, watching and waiting. My father orders a glass of champagne for Thomas, which indicates either he likes Thomas or the title he holds. I watch as Thomas messes with the rim of the glass. My friend has never been exactly good at social interactions and becomes restless faster than a toddler. Uncle is glaring at Thomas so my father elbows him and it seems so unlike them I smile. They are no longer close due to my mother’s death, but perhaps my Aunt can change that for the better, at least a little bit whilst she is here.
“So Mr. Cresswell, my son has been telling me a bit about you, what is it you do again?”
I've not spoken to Nathaniel about Thomas. In fact I haven't spoken to him in quite a number of days. I make a mental note to fix that.
“I'm a scientist sir.” My fathers face drops, either having that information made true or knowing Nathaniel had missed it out deliberately.
“Surely a man of your title would pursue something other than that?”
“Science isn't about titles sir, it's just the pursuit of knowledge. You must want to know how things work, how things are made. I enjoy learning about the body, the world and how it works.” My father narrows his eyes at him. He used to enjoy that sentiment before my mother died. He loved making things. It was his form of science. Perhaps if mother had not died he would be more open to my love of science. I'm filled with silence that floods my head until Thomas taps the table slightly. My attention turns to his warm smile, one that tells me everything I need.
I am not morally corrupt for liking science. I return the smile, a silent thank you.
Silence falls on our table and I find Liza watching me and Thomas with something like wonder on her face. When she notices me she smiles, then raises her eyebrows up and down and we both nearly snort with laughter. But we control ourselves as Uncle takes a seat next to Thomas. His gaze makes Thomas bounce his knee in the annoying way he does when he is nervous.
“Would it be okay for me to attend your school sir?” Thomas askes suddenly
“Yes, on one condition; you must stop working for Mr. Douglas.”
Neither of us were surprised by the condition, although I am miserable that Thomas was accepted so quickly. I had to beg my Uncle to let me join and I've only ever been once. His stipulation for me was to remain quiet. Quite a task when the ‘men’ partaking in his lesson squirmed more than I did.
“Of course.”
After a few minutes Thomas returns to his table and my Uncle stays in the seat he's in, instead of going back to the seat beside my father. My father returns to his conversation with Nathaniel, Liza and Aunt Amelia being talking again. I look to uncle in hopes he will talk to me, but he is looking at his plate of food miserably. So I sit alone silently.
“Mr. Wadsworth? May I join you this fine evening?” The voice of Mr. Blackburn pierces my thoughts. He takes the seat that was my Uncles and smiles brightly at me. “It is lovely to see you, Miss. Wadsworth. You look beautiful.”
I force a smile as my mind wanders to the words Thomas uttered to me earlier. They felt real. It leaped at me and held me tightly. Blackburns’ felt much like my smile. Forced. Polite. I had no idea what he was doing here. If he wanted to talk about the case I'm sure he'd drag Uncle somewhere.
“Thank you.” I say, turning to look at Liza and begging her to help me out. But Aunt Amelia cuts in instead.
“She looks delightful doesn't she? You must dance together.”
I try to hide my wince but it clearly doesnt work as Liza smirks at me.
“Before you do that there is something we must discuss Audrey Rose,” Blackburn states, his tone makes me squirm in my seat like a child, Uncle looks up from his food finally and they look at each other carefully, “We need you both tomorrow at the station, the Ripper has sent another letter.”
So Uncle was right when he spoke about the killer's confidence another letter surely meant he was ready to strike again. I must speak to Thomas, get him to be at the station with us, he will likely notice things we would normally miss.
“Certainly.” Was all Uncle responded with. Especially since we both noticed my father’s glare at us all.
“Both? Both? When I told you to court my daughter I didn't expect you to let her see such horrors. You were to stop her madness not help it prevail.” He snaps at Blackburn. Anger rose as I understood what my father was saying. He had graciously allowed Blackburn to court me, to marry me, without even mentioning it once to me. I was clearly too much to handle and must be doused before I dare have a life of my own choosing.
“You have been secretly courting me?” I snapped at him, rising from my seat. “Father, why on earth would you allow this? I have a right to know, to choose for myself.”
“Audrey Rose, sit down and be quiet, you're making a scene.” My Aunt snaps back. Of course, our reputation is in such jeopardy if I stand up for myself.
How had I missed Blackburns’ advances, my fathers scheme? What else were they hiding from me? My father was enraged with me, Blackburn had the guts to look sorry for me. It was utterly ridiculous. I hated him, hated my father, hated society. Myself. I'd missed it because I had convinced myself he was a friend. I was so desperate I had ignored my intuition. I was pathetic.
Instead of sitting down I pushed my chair far back and began walking out of the ballroom. I needed air. Needed control. Needed Thomas. A thought I refused to linger.
The cold air bit at my skin, seeped inside me as I walked to the edge of the garden. The darkness comforted me as tears freely slipped down my face. I was a fool. I didn't want to marry Blackburn. I wasn't sure I wanted to ever marry. I just wanted to be a scientist. I wanted-
“Miss. Wadsworth, is everything okay?” Thomas appears behind me and I find it so utterly cruel that he gets to see me so vulnerable. Not an hour ago had we danced, had we been happy and now I was apparently being courted so I spun around and let out a joyless laugh.
“Perfect, Mr. Cresswell. I am a woman in this absurd society so I must not dare think about anything remotely masculine. I must not be able to pick who I love but have my father arrange it without informing me.” I spit at the words at him, knowing he was not to blame but knowing he was the only one willing to listen to me.
“Audrey Ro-”
“Blackburn. He chose Blackburn. He was never nice to me to be my friend, but because of him and my fathers scheming. If he hadn't been he would not have been this nice to me. I know I am not exactly the nicest person and that my interests disgust society but it was nice to have a friend.” I whisper the last part as though I voice how pathetic I am.
“Am I not your friend Audrey Rose?” His voice is an attempt at a joke, I think, but it is also tinged with pain. I consider Thomas my best friend, and it hurts me he thinks otherwise.
“You are but you're different, you; I don't need to try with you Thomas. I have to try with everyone but you.” He dares a step towards our eyes finally meeting. We needn't say a thing for us to understand each other.
“Wadsworth, I find it easy with you too. More than I even understand. This world is cruel and I wish more than anything to make it better for you, for it to be better in general. I- my father long ago gave up trying to marry me off, deeming me worthless and unable to love, and I still cannot figure out which is worse.” This was another side of Thomas he was showing me, to tell me that we may not fit into society but it doesn't matter too much. The fact will always hurt us slightly but we learn to live with it. Eventually.
He takes my gloved hands and rubs small circles over my palm sending shivers over my body. “You are worth more to society than they realise, so please keep fighting for your freedom. I will forever remain your friend if that is what you wish to happen, to help you figure this world out.” His confession replaces the darkness clinging to me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be a wife, but Thomas always made me doubt that. He would always give me my freedom because he understood how important it was to me. I tighten my grip and he catches his breath as I take another step closer.
“Thomas,” My voice is somewhat breathless, my own breathing failing me, “you are not unlovable, your father is a fool. An utter fool. I want you by my side always, I fear I couldn't do this without you.” I go closer, impossibly so, “What if, what if it was more than friends though?” I may have overstepped with my question, we were in such uncertain territory to what we felt and I wished I could take back the words. What if Thomas wanted nothing more than friendship? The kiss we had could have just been adrenaline for him. His flirts may be out of boredom or something else I couldn't understand.
“I- I’m sorry.” I stutter when he doesn't respond to me. I take a step back, ready to return to the line placed between us. Where I would forever remain it seems.
That is until his hand tightened on mine and brought me back forward. My face widens in shock.
“Wadsworth I'd like that too.”
There is a second of silence as it sinks in. “You would?”
“More than anything. I care deeply about you. I shall court you like a proper gentleman if that is what you wish.” We return to standing apart and I can't help but snort at his insane statement.
“You are anything but a gentleman Cresswell.” I smile brightly as we both laugh. “It may be my favourite thing about you.” He flashes me a devilish smile.
“I am fully aware, love, that you love the scandalousness of my words. Would you like to go back inside or return home, I am sure I can get us a carriage to share.”
“Us? Thomas you do not live with me.”
“Yet,” he adds. I roll my eyes at his dramatic nature despite picturing how lovely it would be to live with him. “It would be ungentlemanly to let you return home alone; and purly scandalous to be in close quarters with you.'' Once again I ignore his words and begin to walk to where the carriages await. I couldn't care less if father got mad at me for going home. I knew I had to be lectured anyway.
“Very well, you may escort me home. From a distance.” I emphasise this to make sure he understands. He merely laughs at me.
When I make nearly a quarter of the distance and do not find Thomas with me I spin around and find him watching me with a weird expression on his face. He is captivating as he stares at me, his eyes full of wonder. His perfect hair has fallen in his face slightly, disheveling him slightly. My brows burrow in confusion at what could make him look like this, but I relish the look he gives me anyway. He really is a dark prince; standing tall in his dashing suit. He blinks when he releases I've stopped then begins to follow me.
“Are you alright?” I ask as he falls into step with me.
“Yes of course, I get to leave with the most dazzling woman at the party.”
We link arms, pay for a carriage and start to head towards my home. We sit across from each other, but the carriage is small and Thomas obnoxiously spreads his legs out so they brush against me and it takes all my willpower not to just place my hand on his knee, slowly stand then lean over him and kiss him. He nudges me and I raise my gaze, he tells me something but I've no clue what.
I blink and feel the heat of my blush form on my face. Which Thomas notices and smirks wickedly at me whilst raising his eyebrows in amusement.
“Wadsworth?” He asks and I hum a response and try to snap out of my indecent thoughts.
“Cresswell?” I attempt words, not sure that I can manage more than his name.
“My kiss? I am still waiting for it.”
When did I promise him a kiss? Not that I do not want to kiss him. He leans closer, knee hitting mine. I feel the heat of him envelop my senses even as I remember our dance and the words he teased me with. For a moment I see him doubt and so I lean in to make sure he doesn't regret being in here with me, regret asking to kiss me.
His lips are soft as they meet mine. I feel his hand rest on my knee as I deepen the kiss. My night has been abysmal and I do not think I would have made it if Thomas was here. I adore the feeling of his lips on me and find my hands wandering on his knees. This is so vastly different from the first kiss and it makes me wonder if our kisses will always be different. Thomas pulls back, resting his head on my forehead and searches my face. I am a complete mess as he looks me over and he smiles at the result of our kiss. He presses a lingering kiss then sits back. I return to being pressed against the back of the carriage as we regain our composure. But I feel his legs still against mine so I brush my own against him and his warm smile against his flushed face made my heart nearly burst.
“I should save you from boring events more often if it means kissing you like that.” The words hold the same promise as the kiss and I smile brightly at him. I didn't think I wanted a husband but perhaps being with Thomas my feelings would change. Even in my worst time Thomas would stand by me, and I'd stand by him. We would make mistakes, argue; but I felt the truth sink in that we would always see the truth in each other. He was my one and only lifeline and I do not think I could ever truly explain the feelings as they raced around in my body faster than I could comprehend.
@fangirling-again @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @purplecreatorhorsewagon @kittycat2187 @padfoot-sirius-black @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing @lovecakeandmore @loveyatopluto @yikesitsmaddie
#sjtr#hpd#efh#ctd#cressworth#cresswell#thomas cresswell#audrey rose wadsworth#stalking jack the ripper#hunting prince dracula#escaping from houdini#capturing the devil#thomas and audrey rose
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Well, I didn’t write anything for Valentine’s Day, which is fine because there’s a pretty good chance that’s not a thing in a galaxy far, far away. ;) But I am working on a one-shot with Finn and Poe. It’s something that came to me as a very vivid scene pretty much all at once, so I scribbled down some notes, and surprisingly enough, they stuck! Hopefully I’ll finish it this week and then get to the epilogue of my other story that I keep putting off (even though I can’t wait to be done. Hmm. Strange.) So here is a minimally-edited snippet of the one shot, which sees Poe calling his dad after the Battle of Exegol to tell him what happened. . .
There is a knock on the cockpit door. “General?” C3-PO enters, stops immediately when he sees Poe talking to his father. “Oh, I’m sorry. I did not mean to interrupt, General.”
“General?” asks Poe’s father. Poe holds up a hand and turns to the droid.
“I’m a bit busy now, Threepio. Can it wait?”
The droid pauses, nods his head once. “Yes, sir. I believe it can.”
“Thank you,” Poe tells him dryly. “I’ll be sure to find you when I’m done.”
“I will be in the main cabin with the others, General.” He turns to leave, and Poe calls after him.
“Don’t forget the door, Threepio. And no more interruptions.”
“Of course, sir. And of course not, sir.” He leaves, the door whooshing shut behind him. Once again Poe contemplates locking it, turns to his father with a sheepish look on his face. Kes Dameron is waiting patiently, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised in question.
“So you’re a general now?” Kes asks, voice serious but a smile pulling at his lips.
“Well, yeah…I guess.” Poe shrugs, rubs at his tired eyes. “Leia made me acting general before she died. No idea why…could’ve been anyone…”
“She wanted it to be you,” Kes tells him sharply. “Because she trusted you. Because she’s been preparing you for a while now. You know that. So trust in her. She knew what she was doing.”
“I hope I do,” Poe grumbles, then sits up straighter. “But at least I’m not doing this on my own. I made Finn my co-general.”
This time Kes actually smirks. “Oh, really?”
“Not like that, dad.”
“Not like what?” Kes holds out his hands in innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to, I can see it in your face.” Poe gazes out past the hologram, into the forest where somewhere, Finn and Rey are sitting, enjoying their new closeness. And he’s sad for himself, but so glad for two people who desperately deserve happiness. “Kriff, dad, you should have seen him. He led a ground assault on a Star Destroyer! With a cavalry! And when it all backfired, he came up with a new plan and got it done—destroyed the beacon that was controlling every Star Destroyer there. Once Finn took it out, they never had a chance. It was amazing.” Poe tries not to think of those harrowing moments when he saw Finn and Jannah hanging from the side of the Destroyer, before the Falcon scooped them up. He’s just so relieved it worked and they survived.
“I see,” says his father, nodding sagely. “It does sound amazing. So when are you going to tell him?” his dad asks quietly, seriously. Poe shakes his head, knows he can’t lie to his dad but he’s going to try anyway.
“Tell him what?” The false cheer in his voice gives it all away, and Poe holds back a cringe as he dad crosses his arms over his chest again, cocks his head in that way he’s had since Poe was ten and tried lying about the Force tree in their yard. “Dad…”
“Poe, the war is over. You don’t have to wait anymore. Besides, your mom and I didn’t wait.”
They hadn’t waited until the war was over, which had left Poe alone as a baby, raised by his grandfather. Not that Poe wanted children any time soon, but the thought of leaving behind someone he loved, or losing them, was not something he’d wanted to think about, before. Not when the next day, the next battle, could mean capture, death, or defeat. But now…
“I know dad, I’ve heard the stories.” Poe sighs. “And you’re right, the war is over, but you know just as well as I do that there is still a lot of hard work to be done. There’s still going to be pockets of the First Order holding out, putting up a fight, and I can’t leave the New Republic to—”
“To what, son?” his father demands. “Think of yourself and your own happiness for once? Of your future? You and Finn can work with the New Republic together, you know. Side by side.”
“It’s not that simple,” Poe grinds out. “It’s complicated.” There’s someone else, he doesn’t say, because it’s yet another thing that becomes all too real once the words are spoken and shared.
“Stop making excuses.” Kes Dameron’s voice is flat, almost stern. “Before that ring around your neck chokes you. Tell him, Poe. Talk to Finn.”
The door slides open behind him, and Poe whirls in the pilot’s seat, his eyes big as his heart drops because of course it’s Finn. Did her hear any of that? What’s he even doing there? Where is—
“Tell me what?” Finn asks, sounding both curious and concerned. “Everything okay?”
“Kriffing hell,” Poe mutters, turning back to his father. “Thanks a lot, dad.”
And his father, the old bastard, is grinning. “Perfect timing! I’ll leave you two to talk.”
“No, no,” Poe says, leaning forward in alarm. “It’s fine, don’t go, I need to–”
“I know you have a lot to do,” his father continues, Poe’s protests falling on deaf ears. “But come home soon. You need a break. Trust me. I remember the feeling.”
Poe blows out a long, slow breath. “I know you do,” he says quietly. “And you’re probably right. I’ll see what I can manage.”
“Soon, Poe,” his father says. “Before you collapse. And bring some company. I’d love to visit with someone besides you and BB-8.”
“Um,” Poe tries not to glance back at Finn since the implication is clear. “We’ll see about that.”
“Well, I can always issue my own invitations,” Kes offers, too cheerfully, and when did his father turn into such a scheming matchmaker? Poe rolls his eyes, leans forward to disconnect the call.
“Don’t even think about it, dad. I’m fully capable of issuing my own.”
“Then make sure you do.” It’s a strange standoff, and Poe can practically feel Finn’s eyes boring into the back of his head.
“It was good to talk to you, dad,” Poe manages, suddenly choked up again. “I’ll call again soon.”
“I’m proud of you, Poe. General Dameron.” He smiles, reaching out as if to touch his son. “Never forget that.”
“I love you too, dad. Dameron out.” His dad offers a small mock salute, and as the connection shuts down, Poe flops back in his chair, even more exhausted than he was when he walked in—physically and emotionally. He hears Finn shuffle behind him but is too worn out to turn around and say anything. Maybe if he’s lucky Finn will walk away.
Apparently he’s only lucky in the sky.
#Finnpoe#Stormpilot#Poe Dameron#Kes Dameron#Finn (Star Wars)#Fanfiction#Hope to finish soon!#Slowing down but still love them ❤️
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