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xellychan040 · 4 months

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Fic: wolf story (it's about me, it's about you)

Title: wolf story (it's about me, it's about you)

Fandom: slayers

Pairing: xelloss/sherra

Rating: T

Summary: The movement harsh and sudden, more like punch to the face than a kiss.

Had they been human, it would have hurt.

Instead, Xelloss laughs. She tastes like candy, like brandy-soaked sweets.

Info: whats this? my Secret Santa fic for the @slayersweek yule exchange is out before the 30th? truly, a sign of the end times. haha, I hope you like this one @sherrasama! i had a lot of fun and a lot of ideas for this fic, but I settled on this strange form of monstrous flirting/play-pretend at human affection. I had a bit of a hard time with Sherra, but I hope I did her justice considering how close she is to you ;w; I tried to work in that daddy issues prompt into the fic, but it's more peripheral than anything.

AO3 ver

It's a bit like playing pretend.

Sherra's fists ball on his chest as she scowls up at him, her young, fresh face scrunched at the nose, her lips pursed mulishly. She grips at the yellow fabric of his shirt, the sensation translating over to his astral form as her magic sparks with the force of her ire.

Xelloss smiles, lifting his hand slowly to card his fingers through her hair. Watching with passive curiosity as her mouth drops, sucking in a small, shuddering gasp. Threading just the barest whisper of his magic through his touch, he coils a strand of hair around his index finger, caressing the edges of her astral body.

Sherra swallows, her eyes darting away from his as he continues to smile placidly. "That feels strange." Her face scrunches, showing a hint of sharp white teeth, like a child told to eat their vegetables. Palms spreading out over his chest, she hesitates for a moment before looping her arms around the back of his neck. "Humans like this?" She asks, head tilting to the side. Her fingertips whisper over the blunt ends of his hair, the pulse of magic is more intentional this time, a wisp of her astral body sliding over his. A shiver thrills down his spine at the motion, catching Xelloss slightly off guard. "Makes no sense to me," she huffs, mulish. Yet she doesn't pull away from their half embrace.

Her interest was obviously caught, still curious about this little game they'd started, for all her dislike of humans. But ah, she is young. He forgets how young she is, sometimes. Mistress Zelas had dismissively called her ' half-baked, in more ways than one,' once. He didn't disagree, but...neither did he fully agree either. Like a sword sharpened from a blank, rather than the arduous process of folding steel-- an effective weapon nonetheless, but it would take work and time to elevate its lethality. The potential was there, someone needed only to hone her blade. Refine her edges, strengthen her steel, rewrap the bindings around her hilt.

With a sharpened edge, perhaps even a half-baked monster could be a true asset. Effective, efficient, and utterly impossible for someone like her creator.

It was truly a pity. Xellos wonders what Sherra could be if only given the opportunity to be refined.

His eyes slide open, gazing at her with wry amusement. "They do," he says, watching as sky-blue strands fall into her eyes girlishly. "They like many things that make no sense," he begins, cupping her face, he strokes the corner of her eye with his gloved thumb. Tracing her mulish, pouting mouth with his other hand, he traces the fetching curve of her cupid's bow. "But some of the things they like are pleasant enough to indulge in."

Her lips are very pink, unexpectedly soft. Xelloss wonders if Sherra had the vanity for it, or if it was her creator once more. Form over function, convenience over quality.

Taken in by a whim, he tightens his grip on her chin, tilting her up as he leans in. He feels her astral body coil beneath her soft skin, her shoulders raising around her ears as she tenses. Her eyes slip shut, the furrow between her brow deepening but she doesn't shrug off his touch. Instead, her breath is caught with anticipation, stuttering to a complete stop as he slides his mouth over hers. He chuckles against her lips, his ever-present smile presses into the shape of her frown.

A bloom of emotions spreads across his pallet, sweet with embarrassment, a hint of spice as confusion morphs into anger because it's easier for Sherra to deal with. Xelloss laughs again into the kiss, his smile growing wider as his mouth slides against hers, finding its way to her flushed cheek. Pecking her with mock sweetness, Xelloss tastes the way her embarrassed temper flares along with her astral body, writhing under her skin as her hands tighten on his shoulders.

Yet instead of violent retaliation, Sherra growls and pulls him back to her mouth. The movement harsh and sudden, more like a punch to the face than a kiss.

Had they been human, it would have hurt.

Instead, Xelloss laughs. She tastes like candy, like brandy-soaked sweets.

Sherra snaps at him, "Are you trying to scare me away? Or--" She flutters another mulish kiss against his mouth, her lips pursed like a child kissing their parent even as she claws over his shoulder, keeping him from running away. "Or-- or," she stumbles, trying to catch her breath though neither of them needs it. She pulls back, Sherra's fierce, young eyes flashing with malcontent. "Are you making fun of me?"

Xelloss' dark eyes slide open as he cups his hand over the nape of her neck, deceptively gentle.

A wolf resting fangs delicately on the throat of another.

"I was just thinking," he says, raking astral claws down her back, feeling her shiver and press against him. A thin reedy growl built in her throat as she kisses the corner of his mouth, astral teeth nipping at his cheek. "You could be strong. You could be useful." He smiles. "I hope your master sees that."

He doubts it, but the young always like to dream there's a chance. It's nearly foreign, for a monster like him, but Xelloss hopes-- truly hopes he can see Sherra honed to perfection. The destruction would be lovely; her temper and naivety and strength held such succulent promise, be she an enemy or an ally. Plots and amusements both dancing in his mind's eye, something he doubted her creator could envision. Pity, once more.

"Of course he will," Sherra huffs, but her eyes glitter greedily as she pulls herself closer. Going on tip-toe as she bites at his throat through his shirt collar, the action more familiar to her than their facade of affection. Missplaced, lovely, pride brightening her astral body, making her sweet face glow. "My master knows me better than anyone."

Xelloss laughs.

#slayers secret santa #xelloss/sherra #slayers #sherra #xelloss #shuddup xelly #fic

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kickthecan-revolution · 2 years

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My sister and I spent about eight hours cleaning out the attic. We pulled some things we wanted to save, we laughed at pictures and teared up at how sweet the kids’ thank you notes to our parents were over the years..

I found a letter that a doctor wrote to an IRS auditor about my sister when she was 8 years old, justifying why moving her to a private school was a “medical expense”. The doctor described her severe nervous tics, that she had stopped speaking and was demonstrating epileptic like seizure behavior, the origins determined to be from an emotional disorder. She was incredulous - she’d always wondered why she’d been moved to a new school but had no recollection of the tics. Her eyes got big and she realized that was right around the time that she started playing “mediator” between my parents - they’d sit her down on the couch, usually my mom was hysterical and my dad was drunk - they’d explain the fight they were having and ask my sister to say who was right or wrong. She had an ability of calming my dad down, and would actually resolve their issue, and that went on for years. My mom would sleep in her bed when things got bad - so yeah, it makes sense she’d have a little breakdown though in the letter, her condition was blamed on the school. We got quiet after that, it was a hard moment. We kept their secrets so well, mostly from themselves.

My brother came over in the middle of the clean out and we told stories about our experiences with our parents that the other didn’t know. We all said how much closer we feel with each other - we asked questions about things we either assumed or were always too shy to ask about, and while the answers were all mostly shocking, it was bonding. How my brother fell off a bike and broke his leg but my mom thought he was faking and didn’t take him to a doctor for weeks. How she was such a terrible cook (she never really tried), my brother would excuse himself to vomit in the bathroom. How our dad had a reputation for smoking pot when it was considered a dangerous drug. How we were expected to keep the house perfectly clean, even raking the soil. So much more, the neglect was so extreme, it’s hard for us to figure out how we turned out the ways we did. We died laughing when we all realized how much we hated riding in the car with him alone, how his footsteps down the hall were so terrifying and when they stopped at your door, it was panic-inducing.

We talked about our lack of grief, and agreed that romanticizing our father would be a mistake. He was a volatile, abusive, destabilizing and often cruel presence in our lives. He frightened us. He enjoyed being mean. We served his ego. He dumped our dog. He was utterly and completely self-absorbed. There’s no changing that and I’m relieved he’s gone. I don’t miss him and why would I? At least I don’t yet. I’m also keenly aware of how much we all acknowledge and appreciated the good things about him, there were a few. He was in so much pain, and hurt people hurt people.

I am believing he’s in a place right now as I write this that is filled with wonder and he’s experiencing love for the first time. And it’s a testimony to the Grace in our lives that we want that for him. And we do.

They LOVE the Easter egg hunt idea, we all realized that is the one fun memory we have. I’m going to fly the kids in who aren’t here - we’re going to do it when the house closes. Our biggest grief will be the house, I think.

I do have a family. It’s never felt that way before now, but I do. It makes me want to move back here.

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Dimitrescu Daughter HCs

I thought this would only take a few minutes. I was so, so very wrong. Anyway, some of these are somewhat exclusive to my fic (Serenade), but they’ll make sense even if you haven’t read that.

Daniela:

Others have already talked about how Daniela reads a ton of romance novels, so I’m not really going to go into that very much, just saying that I agree 100%, I mean c’mon, it’s practically canon.

While she mainly sources books from her family’s library, there are a few she’s “acquired” over the years that she keeps locked away in her room. These tend to be a bit, ahem, steamier than her mother would approve of/let her read under normal circumstances.

How did she get these? Well, there has to be someone who delivers goods to Castle Dimitrescu (Duke, perhaps?), seeing as the Maidens need, like, actual food to survive. Sometimes Daniela manages to convince them to order books for her, usually just asking for books by authors she likes, or ones she’s heard maidens whispering about.

No, the delivery person does not read the book’s summaries or reviews, they have a feeling (based on titles and covers alone) that they don’t want to know.

As for her experiences with actual romance… she’s so very, very excited about it, all the time. Wants to kiss every cute Maiden she sees, and sometimes daydreams about a beautiful woman fleeing from lycans who comes to the castle for shelter, clinging to Dani for warmth and protection, and it’s love at first sight, and they kiss and kiss and right as it gets to the good part-! Someone interrupts her daydream (usually Cassandra).

However, her actual experiences are fairly limited. Sure, she has kissed Maidens, but she tends to get over excited. Like in Serenade, she starts to rush the process, and usually ends up draining her “lover” aka victim before anything more intimate happens.

She’s definitely done sexual things, just, well, not with other people. Private things. Usually during or after reading one of her special books. You get the picture.

Because of this, and her aforementioned love of romance novels, Daniela has become somewhat obsessed with the idea of her first time. She wants everything to be perfect. The setting, the timing, who she’s with… Hence her reaction in chapter 3 of Serenade. It’s not that she didn’t want to continue, just that the circumstances didn’t feel right. She’s very particular!

Favorite Music Genre: Girl goes wild for an emotional, gut-wrenching love/power ballad. The type to lie in bed and cry while listening to Hozier or Lorde (not that she can hear either of them, considering her limited music options). Doesn’t admit it, though, and mostly listens to indie pop when other people can hear. That and whatever the Maiden plays on piano ;)

Okay it feels weird to joke about her loving music I wrote, anywayyyy

Hobbies: Other than reading there’s not too much I can see her doing, really. She’d be sure to get into anything that her s/o enjoys, though, even if it’s something difficult or time-consuming. Writing is something she’d love, but it’s difficult for her to keep her focus on just one project at a time. Ideally she’d write short stories, romantic ones obvs, and have someone else proofread/edit them. For the most part she’d write within fantasy and historical setting (seeing as she’s got experience in both of those departments).

ADHD, BABY. Bigtime, seriously. Maybe this is just my adhd ass projecting, but I can’t not see her as having it. For her it mainly manifests with hyper-focusing/difficulty staying on task. It’s like a switch with those on either end, flipping back and forth every once in a while. She can spend six hours reading two different books in one sitting, but if someone just breathes too loudly it disrupts her completely. Because of this she’s somewhat prone to abandoning projects. It’s a sore subject for her, and her sisters are aware, normally only bringing it up if they’re really angry with her.

Opinions on the four lords: Thinks Heisenberg is a tool (pun intended), also thinks that he secretly reads super erotic novels. She doesn’t have any proof, though, and would never say anything about it out loud. Just makes fun of him in her head. Doesn’t actually judge him for what she thinks he reads, just judges his personality and the “need he feels to hide his secret”. Loves Donna, and low-key thinks she’s attractive. Daniela mostly bases that off the portrait she’s seen, but, like many fans, also thinks the hands are nice. The puppets don’t bother her, though she also doesn’t really care about them, other than thinking that Donna interacting with them is cute.

Opinions continued: Moreau is… uh… fish boy. Daniela thinks he’s weird, kinda gross, and hardly considers him a “real” lord. Poor boy :( At least she doesn’t actively make fun of him?... Even if that’s only because she kinda forgets about him most of the time. As for Lady Dimitrescu, well, obviously Daniela loves her mom. The whole family is very close, and as the “youngest”, Daniela gets a lot of attention. Sometimes she thinks her mother is too strict, but at the end of the day there’s no love lost.

Bela:

Cleans up after her sisters a lot, but still nowhere near as much as any of the Maidens do. Often agrees to help with messes in exchange for blackmail material. “Oh, Daniela, what a shame you broke mother’s favorite dish… I could help, but you owe me one.” At the end of the day, though, there’s plenty she would slide.

Being the “oldest”, she’s expected to behave the best, and often feels more restricted than her sisters. Being an example is hard! Occasionally she’ll have the impulse to rebel, but this usually only manifests in scenarios like the one mentioned above, aka she’ll simply be more lenient of her siblings for a bit.

Overall far less sadistic than her sisters. Cares more about the quality of pain then the amount of it. Only ever goes overboard if someone full out threatens or hurts her family. Insults towards them still earn her ire, and will get her to punish someone, but it’s not enough to make her resort to torture. Usually.

Gets the most restless out of the three. As cool (and large) as the castle is, it’s all she’s ever really known. If not for her weakness to cold, she’d go out on hikes a lot. Nature interests her, fascinates her, but she’d be a little less fond of most of it in person. Like, oh, waterfalls sound so cool, followed by a hundred complaints about the noise. Thinks deer are the cutest shit ever (second only to humans, maybe).

Unlike Daniela (though that HC is relevant almost exclusively to Serenade), Bela has actually slept with a Maiden before. She doesn’t really care for them enough to consider it a relationship, instead admiring them for their entertainment value. Definitely could fall for a Maiden, simply hasn’t yet. Of the three I feel like she takes the longest to fall in love, and even longer to actually act on her feelings. Sometimes resents her siblings because they unknowingly “claimed” a Maiden that she was starting to be interested in. However, she fully acknowledges that she should have said something if she didn’t want to lose the girl, considering the situation they live in.

Favorite music genre: Classical, full orchestra style, with a soft spot for swing/jazz. Enjoys having music play softly while she reads, and is very particular about the volume. Absolutely would argue with her sisters if they tried to change the music or turn it up.

Hobbies: Reading, duh. Less interested in romance than Daniela by a considerable amount. For the most part she reads non-fiction books, enjoying learning about history and the sciences. Astronomy is at the top of her favorites list, followed by biology, then obscure (and often bloody) pieces of history. Niche=perfect. Also enjoys music, even if she had to rely mostly on self-teaching books. Knows the basics of piano, but doesn’t actively play, much preferring both the violin and harp. Most of the time she’ll only play if she knows her sisters won’t bother her, or if her mother asks her to.

Opinions on the four lords: Admires Heisenberg’s work/his edgenuity, but thinks the actual man is a temperamental child… who smells like wet dog. He’s only been at Castle Dimitrescu a couple times (per Mother Miranda’s request), and both times Bela moved to the other side of the house so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge his existence. While she would never admit it, she’s low-key creeped out by Donna’s dolls, and really only tolerates Angie. However, she would never act on her nerves, out of consideration for Donna’s feelings. She knows that her mother gets along well with the dollmaker, and keeps this at the forefront of her mind.

Opinions continued: “Moreau who? Oh, the fish guy? He’s still alive?... Good for him.” Wants to make Lady Dimitrescu proud, but not as desperately as Cassandra. Unknowingly mimics a lot of her mother’s little habits and ticks, and would be quietly embarrassed if someone pointed it out to her. As mentioned previously, she feels like she has to be an example for the others, and somewhat resents the pressure this puts on her. On the other hand, she does enjoy being “responsible for” (read: in charge of) her sisters. Additionally, she is the most likely to get away with lying to Alcina, though she does not often do so. This isn’t because she’s the most manipulative (that’s Cass), or the best liar (that’s Dani, if she’s trying), but simply because Alcina doesn’t think her oldest daughter would lie. Even if she doubts something Bela says, she’ll usually give her the benefit of the doubt… as long as it doesn’t happen very often.

Cassandra:

Sleeps the most of the three, if only because she’s the most active of them. Not as fast as the others while in swarm mode, but the fastest on foot, partially because she’s more likely to simply walk places. She knows the sound of feet on the floor scares the Maidens, and she drinks their fear with utter pleasure. Additionally she claims that it just feels nice to “stretch her legs”. But she will not hesitate to enter swarm mode when chasing someone. As fun as it is to smell their fear, she can get impatient, wanting to get close and personal to her target.

Tends to hide most of her feelings, sometimes even opting to “convert” them into anger. In other words, think of her emotional state as an ever-filling bottle of water. As things happen, she feels emotions, and the rate at which water pours into the bottle increases. Ideally if the water level started getting too high, she would address whatever is increasing the flow of water. Instead of that, she often uses anger, which is equivalent to shaking the bottle a bit and letting water messily spill out of it. Doesn’t address the actual problem, but let’s her release some pressure/free up some room.

Goes through Maidens faster than her siblings (yes, even Daniela “draining you of blood is romantic” Dimitrescu). Not all of them even die in the basement, sometimes what was supposed to be a “warning” turns into “oh shit the blood won’t stop coming out, this is how I die, in this accursed castle, no friends or family to mourn me, just the painful knowledge that I will not be the last, I will die for no cause, no glory, just the bitter whims of a blood-soaked mistress” or something along those lines.

While more likely to get attached to someone than Bela, Cassandra isn’t one to do much about it. She might flirt, might even try to kiss (or, uh, kiss while also not wearing clothes wink wink), but she won’t (usually) claim someone as her own, or protest if one of her sisters wants to have some fun with them (even if it’s the bloody kind of fun). Technically gets over breakups and “breakups” (i.e. death) easier than either of her sisters. To be fully accurate, Daniela still goes through lovers faster, but she also remembers them and cares for them for longer post-breakup.

Somewhat of a blood kink. Like, more than vampires automatically have. In intimate settings she cares more about the quantity of blood and what she can do with it (loves bloodstains) than what causes the bloodshed.

Favorite music genre: Rock ‘n roll. Leans towards older stuff, as well as heavier songs. Soft spot for symphonic metal, but doesn’t admit it out of the fear that some might consider it a “weaker form” of the genre. Almost exclusively listens to bands that have female vocalists, and gets crushes on them more than she’d ever admit.

Hobbies: Art! Painting, mostly, but dabbles in sculpture from time to time. It’s been too long since I took an art class for me to suggest a style for her paintings, but I imagine her sculptures would be somewhat abstract. Her art would revolve around emotion, the stronger and rawer the better, with viewers often being left uncomfortable. While Alcina buys plenty of art supplies for her, Cassandra is fond of improvising, especially by creating her own “tools” (of questionable efficiency) out of items she has laying around. She is absolutely the one who took her mother’s lipstick. If you don’t know what that means, don’t worry, it’s just mentioned in one of the RE8 notes that Lady Dimitrescu’s valuable lipstick is missing.

Opinions on the four lords: Tolerates Heisenberg more than the rest of her family by a considerable amount. She’s seen glimpses of his work, his steampunk-adjacent style, and actually kind of digs it. While Bela cares more about the science behind his work, Cassandra just digs the aesthetic. Sometimes for her art she also needs things she can’t get from the castle, and are too obscure to get from a merchant, so she trades tools/ideas with Heisenberg in exchange for him making something for her. “Can you make a battery but whenever it’s in use it makes a horrible screaming sound?” “Yes. PS I hate your mother and Miranda.” “I didn’t fucking ask.”

Opinions continued: Doesn’t really care much about Donna, but acknowledges her as a fellow artist, and would be willing to consult her if she talked more (and talked without Angie). Cassandra hasn’t met Moreau, thankfully (he would cry). Knows about him from her sister/mother, and as a result doesn’t care about him. Internally whenever someone mentions him, she pictures, like, a Goldfish Cracker (the snack that smiles back) with legs except also it’s green and moldy.

Opinions cont.: Loves her mother so much. Determined to please her, to make her proud, but often left feeling less loved than her sisters. This strains her relationship with her family, not that she’d ever voice her feelings and talk through the issue. Let’s be real, Alcina would probably feel guilty for not realizing how Cass felt. Nonetheless, Cassandra probably spends the most time with her mother, often offering to assist her with tasks, or trying to get her to appreciate her art.

#resident evil: village #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #dimitrescu family

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snothing · 3 years

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Request: Drabble in which Jake looks through some old stuff and finds a rather odd yet captivating item: a red tunic with a green scaly leotard, a black-yellow on its right side, a black domino mask, green gloves and finally green pixie boots. he decides to try the suit on

I want to apologize for how long this took! I’ve been so busy with school, and I made this way longer and convoluted than necessary. It’s definitely not a drabble anymore, and I added a lot of sibling banter, lol, I can’t resist. This was so much fun to make, I had so many ideas. Thank you so much for being patient, and I hope you enjoy!

I decided to deviate from my universe, while keeping some old things. Mar’i and Jake are still twins, and Mar’i can turn invisible.

"Go away, Jaki! This is my hiding spot!" Mar'i whispered-hissed at her brother. She glared at him through a jungle of coats and umbrellas in the armoire, her mouth in a tight frown.

"Oh, come on, Mar'i!" Jake cried. With a flair for the dramatic, he threw his hands up in the air. Of course, his annoying sister would take his favorite, top-secret hiding spot!

"Shhh!" she snapped, finger to her lips. Pink eyes flashed brightly at him. "Would you be quiet? Do you want Dad to find us?"

He pursed his lips and looked down the hall. Pretty soon, his dad would be done counting and be searching for them. Still, a great wrong had been committed in the eyes of Jake. "You took my hiding spot! Get out!" he seethed, just a decibel lower.

"Nuh-uh, it's not your hiding spot!" Mar'i shot back. "You don't own it!"

Jake smirked cockily and pointed a finger past her. "Uh, yeah, Mar'i, I do."

A deep, unamused frown settled on Mar'i's face as she noticed— in bright cerulean blue crayon— the word "Jake" hastily scribbled on the panel. "That means nothing! You don't own everything you put your name on."

He silently raged. "How am I not surprised a heathen like you-"

"-Heathen?! I watched you squirt an entire can of Easy Cheese in your mouth!"

"That was a long time ago. I’m a different man now."

"It was last week!"

"As I said, a long time ago," he retorted drolly. "Anyway, as I was saying— only heathens don't respect the sacred rules of hide-and-seek!"

"You're so ridiculous," she sighed, exhausted. "You act like I broke the law."

"Well, you might as well have. I'm hurt, Mar'i, really I am. I never thought you'd betray me like this. My own flesh and blood— my wombmate--"

"Ew, don't call me that!"

He clasped his hands together. "I think the only way to solve this and mend our broken relationship is for you to leave and find a new hiding spot."

Mar'i stared blankly at him. Jake was her favorite person in the entire universe, but there were times where she wanted to slap him. "I'm not leaving, Jaki."

"By the love of X'hal, you can turn invisible!" he argued.

"So? Dad's using heat-sensing goggles this time."

"Mar'i!"

"Hey, babe," their father's voice filtered in from downstairs. They stilled, eyes wide and locked on each other.

"Hello, my love. Are you looking for something?" they heard their mother ask him.

"Oh you know, just for two half-human, half-alien eight-year-olds? Have you seen them? They're like yay-high, black hair with orange skin? Got glowing green eyes?"

"Oh," Kory chuckled. "I think I know the two. Say, are they dangerous?"

"Very. The little rascals will eat all your cereal and blame it on an innocent larva."

"My, they sound like quite the dastardly duo," she mused. "I believe I saw them go upstairs. Please, proceed with caution."

Dick let out a laugh. "Don't worry, babe. I think I'm well-equipped to handle them; Batman raised me after all."

Mar'i snapped back her attention to Jake, panicked. "Go away, Jaki!" she nearly growled.

"But-" he tried to argue, but her hand shot out and closed the armoire door, effectively ending their discussion.

Frantic, Jake looked around for a new hiding spot. Under his bed? No, there was a monster. Behind the house plants? Nope, too obvious. In the air vent? Nah, he'd get stuck again. Finally, his eyes found the inconspicuous attic door.

He was like 90% sure it was haunted. Uncle Jay showed him and Mar'i a horror movie once, and he learned that attics were prime real estate for ghosts and couldn't be trusted.

But...

It would probably be a great hiding spot. His dad wouldn't expect it.

The creaking of the stairs interrupted his thoughts and effectively ended his inner turmoil. He dashed to the attic door and braved the darkroom.

"Oh wow," he said, looking around. The room was cramped, littered with boxes and other knickknacks. Moonlight filtered in through the port window. "Okay, ghosts, listen. I don't mean to trespass or anything. I just need a place to hide from my dad, alright? So no possessing me, okay? I'll only be here for a couple of minutes."

Slowly, he made his way through the clutter, hoping to find a nice nook to squeeze in. A thick layer of dust coated everything in the room, and it was not long before he started hacking. It was then that his left foot hit a meddlesome snag in the carpet, causing him to plummet down on a pile of boxes.

He let out a rather undignified squeak when his knee slammed into the ground. A flurry of Tamaranean curse words left his mouth; thank heavens, his mom was not around to hear him. "Stupid ghosts!" Jake spat. The crash was loud. His dad knew where he was now. "And stupid Mar'i for making me hide in this stupid, haunted attic!"

He went to glare at the confounding boxes, but he halted when he saw something interesting. His ire vanished, his head cocked slightly. He pulled himself up from the ground and went to analyze the contents of the fallen box closer, his hand alit with a low-energy starbolt.

Inside the unsuspecting box was a brightly colored uniform. Jake's eyes widened the size of saucers. Could this be? There was no way. But sure enough, he found the iconic scaly leotard and black domino mask. Yep, this was his father's old Robin uniform.

He stared at the red tunic with the utmost reverence; his thumb traced the R. Jake was so absorbed in the costume he failed to notice his sister hovering over him.

"Whatcha got there, Jaki?" she asked curiously, face inches from his.

He let out a squeal and jumped several feet in the air. He snarled, eyes ablaze in a blue fury. "Mar'i! Don't do that!"

She snickered, an eyebrow raised. "It's not my fault you're not observant."

"I was in stealth mode," he said defensively. He crossed his arms. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be hiding in my hiding spot?"

She shrugged. "Dad found me pretty quick, so I decided to come to bother you."

Jake was surprised. "Wait, do you mean he didn't hear me fall?"

"Nah, I told him you were being a cheater and hiding outside. Thankfully, you decided to be a klutz after he left," she informed him. She frowned when she noticed the betrayed look on his face. "What? I thought you'd be happy I saved you!"

"I think it's funny you pick and choose when to be a loyal sister."

She smiled. "Gotta keep you on your toes, Jaki. Now, what's that?"

Jake followed her pointed look at the costume. He showed her excitedly. "I think it's Dad's old Robin costume!"

Green eyes rounded. "What? No way!"

"Yes, way!" he dazzled. "Look at the insignia!"

"Whoa," she breathed. She fingered the black-yellow cape gingerly. Her head snapped up. "Come on, put it on!"

"W-what?" He gave her a bemused look.

"I know you want to," she said wryly. She held up the tunic and pushed it towards her brother. "I bet you'd look just like dad."

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off. Honestly, he did not need much convincing. Jake had seen pictures of his dad in his early crimefighting days, but a thought stopped him. "I don't know, Mar'i..."

"Why not?"

"Well, Damian's Robin."

"And?"

"And I don't want to-- I don't know. I guess I don't want to send the wrong message," Jake answered. He sighed somberly. "Besides, it's not like I could ever be Robin anyway. I'm weird."

"What the heck?" Mar'i spluttered. "You think you can't be Robin because you have powers?"

"Robins don't have powers, Mar'i," he said, dejected. "They don't fly or shoot starbolts."

She snorted. She scooted closer to her twin, looking at him intently. "And? Anyone with a brave heart can be Robin, and as I can see, you have one."

"But-"

"No buts, Jaki," she cut him off. Mar'i was not going to allow her brother to put himself down. "I like you just the way you are. I think shooting starbolts and flying is super neat!"

"You're biased," he chuckled. Mar'i's words instantly made him feel better, though.

Her mouth blossomed into a silly grin. "Well, yeah, duh. I know if I'm awesome, you have to be. Now, put it on!"

"Okay, but turn around. I need privacy!"

"Yay!" she piped before spinning around. Her arms and legs tingled with excitement.

"Okay, I think I'm ready now," he told her, a bit apprehensive.

Mar'i whipped around, nearly knocking Jake down in the process. She almost burst out in awe when she saw him there, proudly donning their father's uniform. "Wow, Jaki! It looks so good on you!"

He flushed. His eyes, now concealed by a domino mask, peeked down at his body. It had been a bit awkward in some places; Jake did not care for his legs being so exposed, but otherwise, it fit like a glove. "Really?" he asked, swooshing his cape back and forth.

Her head bobbed up and down. "You look just like Dad when he was young!"

"What do you mean by that, Mar'i? I'm still young!"

Jake and Mar'i were startled by the voice. They spun around in the direction of the attic door and spotted their dad: the first-ever Boy Wonder and best pancake-maker-this-side-of-the-galaxy-- Dick Grayson.

"Dad!" the siblings exclaimed in perfect unison.

Dick chuckled. "And what are you two glowsticks doing in the attic? I thought we were playing hide and-"

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Jake. His eyes widened as they absorbed, his mouth agape.

Jake panicked, and shame surged through him. "I'm sorry, Dad!" he said hastily. "I-I was just hiding upstairs a-and I fell a-and I found your old costume!"

"Jake-"

"A-and I knew I shouldn't have, b-but Mar'i said I should-"

Jake paused when he felt his father's hand on his shoulders. He looked up and met his father's loving gaze. "Jake, calm down," Dick comforted. "It's okay."

Jake swallowed. "You're not mad?"

"No, of course not, son," he responded, genuine.

"Doesn't he look cool, Dad?" Mar'i piped up, a goofy grin on her face.

Dick smiled tenderly and moved his hand to caress Jake's face. He could not have predicted what seeing his son wear his old Robin uniform would do to him. His heart soared with love and pride.

"Yes, Mar'i, he looks pretty cool," he agreed.

Jake beamed and matched his sister's goofy grin. He thought his dad would be mad at him, but thankfully, he was the furthest from mad.

"But don't think this means you can go out crimefighting," Dick added quickly.

"Aww, Dad!" Jake whined.

Dick wagged his finger at him. "Don't 'aww, Dad' me! You may have the look, but you're not old enough."

Jake pouted. "I'm not a baby anymore, Dad!"

"Aww, but you're still my baby.” He gave Jake a quick kiss to the temple. “Now, come on, you two. Mom made dinner, and I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees you."

"Did she burn the food again?" Mar'i grimaced. She loved her mother dearly, but she was not the most adept in the kitchen.

"Yeah, I don't know if I can eat burnt lasagna again, Dad."

"Now, now, glowsticks. Mom spent all day working on this meal!" Dick assured them. He escorted them out of the attic. "It's a dish from Tamaran. I'm sure it'll be wonderful."

Mar'i whispered to her brother, "I like when Mom cooks. We always get McDonald's afterward."

"Or food poisoning."

#dick grayson #DickKory #mar’i grayson #fanfic #drabble #Headcanon #Teen Titans #starfire #koriand'r #fanfiction #jake grayson #jake and mar'i are twins

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the-hopeless-haze · 3 years

Text

I hope he’ll be a beautiful fool that takes my spot next to you

Pairing: Sonny Carisi/reader, past!Rafael Barba/reader

Warnings: lots of angst (I bring up Undiscovered Country.... soooo...) smut (it’s NSFW people lol)

Word Count: like 5k words? Idk it’s a long one folks but I deliver

Summary: Based on “exile” by Taylor Swift for @thatesqcrush ‘s Valentine’s Day Bingo! Basically the reader used to date Barba until she didn’t and ended up with Sonny. Rafael is less than pleased. This is a cliche pairing (for good reason! It’s so fun to write!) but I like to think I added a fun twist... Sonny is an absolute mess, Rafael is very jealous, reader is a tad bit vindictive. This can be read in conjunction with “Being Alive” but it’s really a detour and a very loose association... there are just references because it’s so hard for me to write for these characters outside of that lens since I’ve been writing it for so long. That being said this can absolutely be read by itself and this only works if Rafael and the reader didn’t progress as characters in BA anyway lol

Murderous rage doesn’t even begin to describe what Rafael feels right now.

Behind the anger, there’s a sadness, cold and hard as stone, but he won’t touch that. It’s so much easier to be angry at Sonny than deal with anything that has to do with you. And that’s fair, isn’t it, anyway? Sonny swooped in the second things turned sour between you and Rafael and didn’t even give the two of you a chance to patch things up.

Or you went to Sonny of your own accord.

Maybe that’s more likely, but that hovers too close to the ache in his chest and he doesn’t allow himself to dwell there. Instead, he lets his ire build up until it consumes him, shooting daggers at the two of you across the bullpen office.

The two of you had always been touchy-feely - you were partners after all, very close, but you’d trained Rafael to swallow his jealousy. Told him you didn’t see Sonny like that. And for the most part, he learned to believe you. So now, he has to wonder how much of that was a lie, how much he didn’t see between the two of you, because there’s no way in hell you’d allow Sonny to touch you like this if it weren’t precedented.

Yes, at work, no less, you and Sonny are sitting at your adjoined desks, but you moved your chair to squeeze as close to him as possible. His arm is slung across your shoulder, a relaxed grip, because he knows there’s nothing Rafael can say or do that would make you leave him. Your head is resting on Sonny’s vested shoulder, and you’re laughing at something he said, no doubt a stupid joke that only you would find the humor in.

Death would be more welcome, Rafael thinks, then curses himself for being overdramatic. Still, when was the last time Rafael had been able to make you laugh?

Olivia had warned him of this new arrangement, but nothing could prepare him for this. Didn’t Rafael matter at all to you?

You lean up to kiss Sonny and Rafael thinks he might puke. —- Maybe Sonny should feel more guilty for kissing your mouth like you’ve been his this whole time, but he doesn’t. Because now he knows without a doubt in his mind this is where you belonged. He can feel the weight of Rafael’s gaze across the room, but he doesn’t mind carrying it, shielding you from it.

He did feel awful the day you came to him, your touch freezing and clammy from the inclement weather that you traveled through to get to his apartment, and then you practically pounced on him, told him you wanted him - and what was Sonny to do? Say no? No, after asking you a million times if you were sure, he gave into a temptation he’d be lying if he said he never thought about before. Of course, Sonny always imagined being between you and Rafael - he loved both of you in different ways, and the two of you seemed like a package deal at the time his original fantasies started to occur - but if you alone were going to come onto him, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to oblige.

Don’t sleep with your partner was probably the first unwritten rule in becoming a detective, but it’s not like Sonny was going to stay at the precinct, anyway. He’d take Rafael’s place in the courtroom, too.

Still, when you first came onto him, he did feel a twinge of guilt, like he was hurting Rafael and you at the same time, in different ways, but then you explained it all to Sonny. How you always felt insecure around Rafael, that you weren’t sure if he really loved you, that you weren’t sure if you really loved him, that both of you had so much pressure to make this work that it started to fall apart under the weight of all your expectations.

You didn’t have to wait for Sonny to say he loved you, and you didn’t have to doubt it, either. He said it for the first time that same night, and he said it so fervently that you pulled his body back into yours, moaning your own declaration of love back to him. Maybe it was too soon, but he’d spent over a year pining for you (and Barba) in secret, and... well... he wasn’t going to waste what would be his only shot with one of you. He wanted you to know you would be well-cared for in his arms.

If looks could kill, Sonny would be dead on the spot and he knows this. But he also knows that jealousy is a cross Rafael has no right to bear. He had his shot, and he blew it. He should’ve let you know what you meant to him instead of clouding everything in his anxieties, his anger, his burdens from his past he never could let go of. Whatever he did now was too little too late, and even if Sonny had feelings for the lawyer, you always came first, and those said feelings would now never be stated out loud unless he got enough liquor in him and he was feeling sentimental that day.

Sonny used to root for you and Rafael, but he was always an embittered cheerleader, standing on the sidelines wishing someone could love him the way he thought you two loved each other. Appearances meant nothing, though. Now that you’ve let him in, he knows what you had with Rafael was far from the heaven you deserved.

And Sonny is all too keen to give you what you deserved.

As you lean up to kiss him again, he stops you for a moment, smiles down at you in adoration, and you giggle, “What?”

“Nothing,” he grins. “You’re just so beautiful, doll. I love you.”

Rafael’s gaze strengthens in intensity, and you almost turn to look in his direction before Sonny kisses you firmly, a smirk playing against your lips. This has to be killing Rafael, and Sonny isn’t usually that vindictive, but it gave him some sort of sick satisfaction that he was hurting Rafael just like Rafael had hurt you. And, you know, show Rafael what he was missing.

——

Sonny’s kiss is so warm, so comforting, but it doesn’t stop the ice running through your veins - you know Rafael is here despite Sonny’s best efforts to distract you from him. And you meet his eyes across the room for the first time since the night the two of you fought with each other for what would be the last time, the night you found yourself in Sonny’s arms instead. Those eyes add insult to injury, because you still know Rafael, and even if he’s standing across the room you know what he’s feeling. There’s anger there, but deep down you know he’s crushed at having seen you move on so quickly, and with someone he suspected you might leave him for in the first place. And he’s trying to drag you down to his level, get you to sit here in his misery with him.

This could break you if you don’t steel yourself, so you squeeze Sonny’s hand for support.

Sonny’s in tune with your body language, having been your partner for so long, and he stands to full attention, asking you if you’re alright.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, staring down Rafael until he makes his way over to your desk. You swallow thickly. Rafael when he was angry was never pleasant.

“This is cute, hmm?” he says bitterly, nodding sharply at the two of you.

“I like to think so,” you reply coolly, smiling at him.

“Barba, I know you’re waiting for Sarge, but can you please go wait somewhere else? She’ll be out any minute and you’re bothering (y/n),” Sonny asks, forever trying to be the peacemaker.

“She can handle herself,” Rafael says, chuckling sardonically, rolling up his sleeves nonchalantly. “Clearly. She doesn’t need you to fight her battles. But if you’d like to...”

“Mm, please, Rafael, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me?” you snap. “Grow up. Everybody moved on. It’s time you do too.”

Rafael’s visibly taken aback by your verbal assault but he only lets it faze him momentarily. “Right. Moved on. Only took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it and you’re out here spreading your legs for someone else,” Rafael hisses, and you can see the moment when he realizes he went too far, the moment the wrath in his green eyes fades into regret.

“Get out,” Sonny says firmly, raising his voice enough to turn Amanda’s and Nick’s heads. “Get the fuck out. I don’t care how hurt you are, get out. You don’t talk to women like that. I’m honestly... I’m disgusted.”

“I... I am sorry—“ Rafael fumbles.

“A bit too late for that. I’m not your problem anymore, Rafael, so who am I offending now?” You ask. You weren’t upset by his statement - you did move fast with Sonny, faster than even you were immediately comfortable with, and you know how it must look to Rafael, how it must feed the flame of his absolute deepest and darkest insecurities.

Rafael glances around the room and realizes he’s caused a scene. Without a word, he leaves out the side door, forgetting his meeting with Olivia. He’s seen this film before, and the ending? It’s not worth sticking around for.

—-

Sonny could spend hours with his face between your legs, and he did. It was almost like the man never stopped talking because he wasn’t nose-deep in pussy - but you kind of chuckled at that thought because he wasn’t quiet even then. He’s always moaning, making obscene sucking sounds on your clit, talking to you, sending delicious vibrations straight to your core.

You come again, moaning and tugging at his hair, and Sonny adds to his total, grinning up at you, his face sinfully wet with your juices running down his chin. “That’s two down. Think you can give me one more before I fuck you?”

“Sonny, fuck,” you whine breathlessly as he runs his tongue over your now swollen and overstimulated clit. “I need a break.”

You love it. You’ve never had anyone this enthusiastic about pleasing you like this before, and you’ve never exactly been a pillow princess either, but Sonny protested if you even moved a muscle when he was going down on you, instead he’d chuckle and tell you to save your energy for when you ride him later. Not that he needed to be in you at all - you swear he could get off just eating you out. You never would’ve pegged giving oral as Sonny’s biggest kink, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

Sonny laughs heartily, crawling up the length of your body to kiss you deeply, the taste of you branded onto his lips and tongue. You moan as he rolls his hips against yours, the cloth from his boxers creating a tantalizing friction and you buck up against him on instinct.

“Ah-ah,” he tsks, moving off you to lay beside you. “I thought you needed a break, doll.”

You sigh, nodding, trying to catch your breath, but how could you, when he was still on the side of you, whispering dirty things in your ear? God, he really did never shut up.

“He ever fuck you like this?” Sonny asks, a devilish glint in his eye. For a second you think he’d take it back, apologize for asking such an intrusive question, but he doesn’t, and you know it’s because he’s just gone down on you for half an hour already and he’s got enough testosterone running through his veins he could kill anyone who glanced at you. Of course he was in competition with Barba, especially when he was this riled up.

“No,” you murmur, and you’re not lying. Sex with Barba was great, obviously, he’s very attractive and he knows what he’s doing. Rafael was a damn tease, but Sonny? Sonny was so much of a sap he couldn’t bear to hold anything back, couldn’t bear to see your lip tremble in want for even a second. And no one had time to fuck the way Sonny wanted to, drawing everything out and making you come so many times with his lips and tongue before he’d finally enter you. It’d always take a few hours, so this was usually saved for Monday mornings when the two of you didn’t go in until 3, or Friday nights when both of you were too wired to sleep anyway. Sure, there were days you were pressed for time and he needed to have you so more often than not he’d settle for making you come quickly on his face before pounding into you, but...

Rafael was a good, thorough lover, and god, you’d probably miss his hands for a long time to come, but Sonny’s tongue was such a good replacement.

“You just saying that, doll?” Sonny asks gruffly.

“No, honey, of course not,” you giggle. “No one’s as generous as you.”

“Generous? Huh. That’s a good one,” he laughs, and it seems like that comment brought out the underlying sap in him. His clear blue eyes soften and he smiles at you. “Nah, doll, I just love you so much, and making you feel good? What better way to show it, you know?”

This was a complete mess, you realized that, but you were blissfully happy in spite of it. How could you not be? It’d been an amazing three months. On nights the two of you didn’t work, you were treated to home-cooked dinners, bottles of wine, heated makeout sessions that always led to something more. If you worked, you’d take long showers together, massaging the knots out of each other’s muscles until you were both too dreary-eyed to stand.

Sonny was clingy, sure. You knew he would be, of course, and you weren’t used to that - sometimes you questioned if Rafael even wanted you in the same room - and it’s with a sudden realization that you come to terms with the fact that none of your relationships worked out because you needed that constant reassurance that Rafael and so many of your exes were reluctant to give.

It’s so easy to paint Rafael as a villain now that it was all over, but he wasn’t. You truly, truly loved him, even if he never took the time to learn your love language or make you dinner or marathon-fuck you. He showed his affection for you in other ways, but they weren’t as overt and it always left you questioning what he really wanted from you.

And anyway, it wasn’t enough to counteract the wrongs he’d done to you. Always making snide comments about how close you were to Sonny, to Amanda, to Nick, even... and it was in those moments you wish he didn’t love you so much, that he’d let you breathe instead of keeping such a constricting hold on you. You knew what he was scared of, he’d been cheated on before... but you hadn’t done anything.

He tried so hard to snare you down without taking into consideration that you already were his. Or, at least you had been.

When he got down on one knee you knew it was over. For him to be that insensitive, after you’d just gone through an accident and were barely coming back to life through damn near mandatory therapy and rehab... you couldn’t take it anymore. Didn’t he see the signs? You gave him so many, but he just never learned to read your mind after all that time.

And you didn’t want to be his, at least not in that regard. He wasn’t asking you for the right reasons. He was making up for lost time.

You never told Sonny that Rafael asked you to marry him, because that would wreck him and make you seem vindictive, but you have a feeling that Sonny knew anyway. Maybe Rafael mentioned it in passing. It doesn’t matter. You’d never be his wife now.

You didn’t intend this to be a long term thing with Sonny, but now you were used to him being in every facet of your life, and you supposed you did love him underneath everything. It was always Sonny who was there on those cold nights equipped with hot chocolate and cannolis, always him making you laugh when you were miserable about a spat you’d gotten in with Rafael, always him damn near reading your mind to give you what you needed.

Maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe the two of you would go down in flames, too. Maybe he’s only being this amazing because he’s wanted you this long and he wants to show you what you’ve missed the time you wasted with Rafael, and it’ll fade once you’ve stuck around.

But you don’t think so, because you know he’s always loved you like this. The only things that have changed since you let him in is that he fucks you now and he’s practically moved into your apartment. He’s never quite kept his crush for you under wraps. On the off chance this is just a honeymoon phase... you’d still take it. It was bliss for now, and that’s what mattered.

“You ready for round three, doll?” Sonny asks. “Or you wanna sit there and daydream about Barba?”

“W-what?” you stutter, looking at him dumbfounded. “I wasn’t—“

“Don’t play dumb. I know you, (y/n).”

“Are you mad?” You ask, making your voice small.

“No. It’s only natural, right? I probably shouldn’t have brought him up in the first place,” he says, shrugging. “Still...”

“Don’t, Sonny,” you protest. “You’re not his understudy. I love you—“

“I know. That’s not why I’m saying that,” he says, kissing you gently. ——

Sonny would never tell you why he was saying that; why he brought up Barba in the first place. This was a fucked up mess, Sonny knows that, but he can’t help imagining you fucking him like Rafael used to fuck you. You and Rafael both have such dominant personalities, and it makes sense why you’d always be at each other’s throats in hindsight.

One of you had to be more dominant, though, and Sonny gets the sense that more often than not Rafael won your battles. But Sonny won’t even put up a fight against you, and for a woman who was so used to losing... maybe Sonny was doing you more of a favor than he realized. You’re an absolute tease, brutal, really... Sonny doesn’t know where you get the sadism because you’re so kind-hearted outside of the bedroom... but he’s never quite had orgasms like the ones you draw out of him either, so he’s not exactly complaining.

Okay, maybe he whines a little when you don’t let him come.

Or a lot. Whatever.

It’s so worth it, for both of you, even if Sonny can barely take the heat sometimes.

Sonny imagines Rafael doing that to you, too, getting you riled up and soaking wet just to say you can’t come until he said. Or teasing you while you were working (he’d seen that happen a couple of times) just to leave the precinct and leave you rubbing your thighs together in a vain attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Sonny could just never do that to you, lord knows. For one, he can’t stand to see you ache for him while he’s right there, while he can just give you what you need from him. For him he takes pride in the number of orgasms he can draw from you, not how explosive or mind-numbing they can be (although he likes to think he gives both in quantity and quality). Sex is all about giving to Sonny. It always has been. Besides, seeing you fall apart on his tongue? It drives him insane. Maybe most men don’t get as enthusiastic about going down on their girlfriends, but Sonny truly doesn’t think he could ever live without it.

Still... didn’t you take a little bit of your partner with you, even if it was over? In a way, Sonny realizes, he does have both you and Rafael now. Just like he always wanted. Because when you maneuver him where you want him, get bossy in bed, that’s Barba talking. When you drag his bottom lip between your teeth, fiery lust in your eyes, he can just imagine Rafael doing the same to you, you looking up at him with hooded eyes.

His favorite’s got to be when you speak to him in Spanish, whisper “te amo” to him under your breath, because that’s purely Rafael’s influence and nothing else.

Still, you’re mostly you- and that’s fine. Sonny always loved you more, anyway, he’s always been closer to you, always been head over heels for you the second he stepped foot in the precinct and Liv told him you were his new partner.

Sonny didn’t see a point in hiding your relationship from the squad. You were wary at first - everyone knew you just broke up with Barba, and making this public so soon would be a source of gossip. But he convinced you... through questionable means (make a girl come enough times and she’ll do anything you ask). At the end of the day, he doesn’t think anyone truly cared, even if Amanda made a comment; “Guess she’s a hot commodity around here. When’s my turn to date her?”

“I’m never letting her go now that I’ve got her,” Sonny had replied with a grin. “You missed your shot.”

“I was kidding,” she chuckled. “Good for you, though. You’ve been in love with her for a long time, puppy dog eyes and everything.”

Sonny just beamed back at her, but he wonders how obvious he truly was in his affection for you before the two of you started going out. Was it enough to make Barba jealous? Possibly. Maybe that’s why Barba was being so absolutely vile and hostile toward Sonny now, refusing to let him sit in on his closing argument rehearsals and making sure to send more snide remarks his way whenever possible. Sure, Sonny expected that, but if only Rafael knew Sonny loved him too.... Maybe the wound wouldn’t sting as badly as it did. There wasn’t a chance in hell Sonny would say anything now, especially with the way he talked to you the other day (you’d think a lawyer who handles mostly sex crimes would refrain from slut-shaming his ex-girlfriend, but, apparently his anger truly did get the best of him). Still, he’d always love Rafael just like you always would.

Sonny knew there was always a chance that he was just a rebound, that you’d leave him to go back to Rafael, but time goes on and you stay with him and Rafael stays bitter, barely looking at the two of you. Years pass and Sonny tries to extend an olive branch every couple of months, but Rafael would rather eat poison, it seems.

Fair enough. You couldn't say Sonny never tried. ----

Rafael spent a few years feeling like an exile every time he stepped foot into the precinct - and it wasn’t fair in the least. He was A.D.A. before you even got your badge. If anything, you should be feeling like the odd one out now that the two of you were over. This was his city.

But you’re not his homeland anymore. You haven’t been, not for a long time.

It was a new kind of torture every day, watching you and Sonny get closer, closer, closer… Rafael kept searching for reasons to leave New York City that wouldn’t have to do with you.

And then he found one.

Rafael’s standing outside the courthouse, where he just got acquitted for infanticide. It’s bitterly cold, he’s wearing his tan coat that you’d rarely see him out of this time of year. And you come up to talk to him.

It was rare that you did that, anyway, you did your best job to ignore him unless you absolutely needed to speak with him. But now he gets the feeling it’s time for confessions, words you always wanted to say to him all these years now that he was leaving out the side door of your life for good.

It’s a strange kind of sickness, watching you move on more and more, seeing your stomach swollen with Sonny’s child, your finger gleaming with Sonny’s ring, your last name changing to Carisi.

“You’re really leaving?” you ask, pulling your coat across your belly - it wouldn’t stay closed with the buttons anymore. You shiver, sip at your coffee.

“I can’t exactly stay now, can I?” he asks brusquely. “You really shouldn’t be drinking coffee while you’re pregnant.”

You snicker. “It’s not your baby, is it, Barba? Good thing, too. Wouldn’t want her to come out wrong. You might kill her.”

“Oh, fuck off. I don’t need this to be rehashed,” he snaps harshly, bitter tears leaving his eyes. “Did you have anything else to say?”

“It’s decaf coffee, anyway,” you mutter. “I really thought you’d have left a long time ago.”

“Why, because of you?” he asks, laughing bitterly. “Are you really that arrogant?”

“You still look at me like you want to kill me half the time.”

“Just… I still don’t understand what went wrong.”

“If you don’t know by now… I really don’t know what to tell you, Rafael. I gave so many signs. And Sonny… he treats me well. He gives me things you were never ready for, and I… The way things happened… they truly were for the best.”

“For who?” Rafael asks, fighting against his body’s overwhelming desire to break down and sob. Hadn’t he learned by now, though, that there was no amount of crying he could do for you? Still, when you left him, everything went to hell. He tried to pour himself into his work, and this… watching you get and stay happy was salt in the wound.

“I think leaving will be good for you,” you say, ignoring him. “You can move on. Meet someone new. Get a new job. New start. You know?”

“I think I’m too old for new starts,” he scoffs, shaking his head.

“Won’t know unless you try, hm?” you ask, nudging him in the side. “You’ll make it. You always have.”

“Not with you,” he murmurs.

“No. But you didn’t need me. You don’t need anyone.”

“Is that what you tell yourself, to make yourself feel better for what you did to me?” Rafael asks, his voice breaking a little. He was always so desperate not to show vulnerability, especially not around you… but what did it matter now?

“Rafael… we always walked a very thin line. You have to know that we weren’t going to stay together even if we tried to. And why should I have to be miserable just because you are?”

He stays silent because you have a point and he’ll be damned if he lets you know that.

“Sonny loves you, you know,” you say abruptly, and Rafael quirks up an eyebrow. You laugh. “Yeah. He’s very testy about it, but I’ve been with him long enough. I know he does. You should’ve jumped on him before I had the chance. He would’ve taken you. He would’ve taken both of us, but… you and I couldn’t share.”

“You can have him,” Rafael says, rolling his eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It’s just… you didn’t have to spend all these years hating us, feeling like a foreigner in your own city. We would’ve taken you back. You just didn’t want us.”

“I didn’t want the Carisi package deal. I wanted you. I dated you, not him. I loved you, not him.”

“First of all… I meant as friends. But also… Like you’ve never thought about it,” you tease, grinning at him.

Rafael rolls his eyes. “See, this is why we had problems. That’s not funny. Wandering eyes… that’s a problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you say, shrugging. “Sonny’s surprisingly liberal. But that’s great that you were finally able to admit that your jealousy made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.”

“I’d argue my jealousy was warranted. I find it hard to believe that you didn’t fuck Sonny before you broke up with me,” Rafael scoffs.

“I didn’t!” you protest. “I’m not having this argument with you, because at this point, it doesn’t matter if I did or not, but I was nothing but faithful to you, Rafael.”

“Then how could you just move so fast?"

“It’s not like I just picked him up off the street. We’d been friends before.”

“Right. Friends.”

“Yeah. Friends,” you repeat sarcastically. “You see why we didn’t work out now?”

“Guess so.”

“You know, I do wish the best for you. Honestly. You deserve better than the cards you got dealt here.”

“You can say that again,” Rafael sighs. “I did really love you, you know.”

“Yeah. Sometimes that’s not enough. I loved you too.”

He takes a deep breath. “I wish you the best too. You’ll be a good mother.”

“Thank you, Rafi,” you whisper back, leaning over to hug him softly. There it is again; that cold bitter ache - when’s the last time you referred to him by that nickname? And now it would be the last. “Goodbye and good luck.”

"Yeah, you too," he says, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly, remembering a time when touching you was second nature. He watches you, your eyes make contact with Sonny's, and you turn back one last time to give Rafael a sympathetic smile... and that's the last time he ever sees you.

Taglist (lmk if you wanna be added!): @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105 @blackeyedangel9805 @moon-river-drifter @dianilaws @xecq @lv7867 @teddybluesclues @averyhotchner @houseofthirst @stardust-fray @lapaquerette @wanniiieeee @altsvu

#thatesqcrushvdaybingo #sonny carisi x reader #rafael barba x reader

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delicioussshame · 3 years

Text

Socialite AU, last part! I finished a thing! Also posted on AO3 now that it’s done.

Shen Yuan had expected that the beginning of the school year would have kept Luo Binghe too busy for them to see each other more than, oh, about once a month, but it doesn’t seem to be the case. Luo Binghe is obviously very smart, so maybe that’s why he can keep up so easily. His studies sure don’t seem to stop him from having Shen Yuan over at least once a week.

Luo Binghe says it’s because he cannot trust Shen Yuan to feed himself properly, something Shen Yuan himself has profusely denied. First, he’s a fully grown adult, he can cook! Second, if he doesn’t feel like it, he can order in, or pay someone to cook for him. There are no issues there! He doesn’t need to be minded.

Not that he minds being minded. Shen Yuan has eaten more than his share of delicious food, and Luo Binghe’s stands above the rest. There are worst things than travelling to Luo Binghe’s apartment and eating a freshly cooked meal.

They don’t talk about novels as much though. This is an area where Luo Binghe had to step back in favor of reading assigned manuals. Shen Yuan has spent more than one evening reading trash by himself while Luo Binghe sat nearby, throwing the occasional question his way as he studied. Not that it seemed like he needed the help.

When does he see his college friends, Shen Yuan has no idea. Luo Binghe always waves away any concern of his on this matter. Seriously, Shen Yuan is a bit worried. Does he not fit in? It seems impossible that someone as charming, not to mention as affluent, as him would be ostracised. Even Shen Yuan had managed to gather a small group of friends during his college years. Luo Binghe must have done the same, no?

If he hasn’t, his fellow students are missing out.

In that case, Shen Yuan will take him out it their place. It wouldn’t do for Binghe to be lonely.

Not that that’s likely, considering how popular he is in their circle. As far as his female compatriots are concerned, Luo Binghe is now Beijing’s most eligible bachelor.

It’s a role that suits Luo Binghe’s public persona to a tee. He flutters between ladies as if he were born into in, flirting with one and laughing with another one with an ease Shen Yuan cannot help but envy, considering his own limited contacts with the other sex.

If those interactions often ended with a pretend fight between them, neither of them would complain about it. It was fun. Much better than insulting real people and wondering later if he’d gone too far, if he’d seriously hurt someone whose crime had only been to be born in a shitty family and raised in a similarly shitty fashion. He and Binghe sometimes rehearsed lines late into the night before a party, sentences that were meant to be biting insults turning into uncontrollable laughter.

Everything was going well. Shen Yuan’s reputation was becoming so toxic it had been weeks since the last time one of his fellow socialites had dared to speak to him, which is how Shen Yuan liked it. As for Luo Binghe, he was both admired for standing up to mean Shen Yuan, and pitied for always being the receptor of his ire. Binghe was more than talented enough to use all of it to his advantage.

All in all, everything was going perfectly.

Until now. “Excuse me?” says Shen Yuan with the coldest, most disparaging tone he has managed yet.

Sha Hualing, sadly, doesn’t seem impressed. “You can deny it all you want. It’s obvious. It must drive you crazy, seeing him with us and knowing you’ll never have a chance. He’s so good, too. Made me scream so loud I’m sure the neighbors heard. Not that you’ll ever find out yourself. Keep pulling his pigtails. He knows, he’s just too nice to tell how pathetic you are.”

Shen Yuan cannot convey to Sha Hualing how utterly from left field her theory is, and how completely baffled he is, without breaking his carefully maintained aura of disgusted condescension, but he really wishes he could. “You’re insane. How could I be attracted to… that.” He winces in his head. Too much? There are probably zero people that don’t feel at least a little attracted to Luo Binghe in this room.

But if there was one, it would be him. Luo Binghe is his cute disciple and friend, not his meal ticket. Leave that to Sha Hualing and her posse.

Her answering laugh is haughty. “Not even you believe that. Anyway, I just wanted to rub it in, but now that that’s done, I got better things to do than talking to you, like him. Fuck off.”

He flips her off as she leaves. Not his most elegant moment, but not the most elegant situation.

How the fuck did she get into her sick mind that he was into Luo Binghe. She should have thought they hated each other! That they wanted to tear each other’s throats open, not tear each other’s clothes off!

… Holy fuck their characters have ust, haven’t they? Danmei isn’t his playing field, but some things are universal across gender. There is an undeniable pull to seeing two hot people seeming like they’re two seconds away from punching each other when it also seems like they might be two seconds away from… something else.

It’s the only possible interpretation. They haven’t been careful enough, and now their roles are tainted by bad tropes!

Shen Yuan is going to have to adapt his persona a bit. Let himself run even colder. Less hate, more indifference, maybe? Or maybe he could just leave Luo Binghe alone for a few parties.

It wouldn’t work! It would seem like he chickened out after Sha Hualing confronted him! It would make it appear weak!

Could he make up a girlfriend?

Nah, no one would believe it.

Fuck, he’s going to need Luo Binghe’s help on this one.

_________________

“She what!?”

“Thinks I keep picking fights with you because I’m trying to get your attention and that I’d really like for you to bend me over something, probably.”

Luo Binghe blushes bright red.

Shen Yuan restrains his mirth. Nice to see he’s not the only one terribly embarrassed by the situation!

Yes, pinching those red cheeks would only make things worse, but he’s still very tempted.

Shen Yuan soldiers on. “Binghe shouldn’t worry about things too much. His reputation is safe. Considering how well he gets on with the fairer sex,” and yes, now Shen Yuan knows way more than he ever wanted to know about Sha Hualing’s sex life, but that’s life,” no one will doubt him. If he has no idea, I’ll think of something. It’s not his problem.”

“Shizun’s problems are my problems! He wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me!”

Aww, Binghe, why is your indignation so cute!” Don’t blame yourself. We both agreed to the plan. It’s no one’s fault.”

Luo Binghe looks down, obviously still embarrassed. “I really have no idea where she got that. Shizun never appears to be attracted to me.”

“Who knows how Sha Hualing thinks. She probably watches too much porn.” He wouldn’t be surprised, considering how low-class she acted.

A second later, he catches his mistake. If Luo Binghe is… seeing her, he shouldn’t be that mean to her in his presence. “Sorry for insulting your… friend.” He doesn’t think they’re officially dating? Sha Hualing would never shut up about it, and anyway Luo Binghe wouldn’t have as much time for Shen Yuan if he was serious about someone. It’s probably just hormones raging.

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “Shizun shouldn’t apologise! She’s the one who was this rude! Implying Shizun doesn’t know how to court someone, or that he’d need such a ridiculous approach when a few words would be enough for him to have anyone! What a stupid woman.”

It’s Shen Yuan’s turn to be embarrassed. Luo Binghe is pushing the hero worship a little too far here. He’s got way more experience in that department than Shen Yuan will ever get, probably. “Well, if you don’t like her, maybe choose someone better as a partner? You could have anyone. I know it’s none of my business, and I guess she’s attractive, but really, so are many others who don’t share her… fiery temperament.”

If he were honest, he’d just tell Binghe he deserves better.

Much, much better. Didn’t he see her chatting with Liu Mingyan the other day? Now that’s a woman worthy of his Binghe, almost his equal in all fields.

Not that he needs to find someone just yet. He should take his time, and find someone he likes.

Luo Binghe snorts. “I would never choose her.”

Shen Yuan blinks. “Didn’t you?”

Luo Binghe looks wounded. “Why would you think that? I would never be with someone this cruel to Shizun!”

“But she said… oh.” Shen Yuan is an idiot. Why, why did he, even for a second, believe what that snake said? “Binghe must let me apologise. I’ve been stupid and have believed her when she said you and her were… involved.”

��Shizun mustn’t believe her! She lies!”

Shen Yuan pats Luo Binghe’s back gently. “I don’t! I don’t. She lied. I don’t believe her anymore. Of course Binghe has better tastes than this. I should have known.”

Luo Binghe raises his chin. “I do. I have the best tastes.”

Shen Yuan lets a smile appears on his face. “You do. After all, you have chosen me to guide you.”

Luo Binghe nods with almost comical vigour. “Yes!”

So! Cute! Shen Yuan wants to give him a hug!

He won’t, because he’s the dignified older friend.

Who reads bad online novels, but let’s not linger on that. “So, what do we do about her imagination? Because she cannot keep a secret to save her life, so I expect people will talk about it the next time we attend the same event.”

“…Does Shizun want… a girlfriend?”

What does that have to do with anything. “If I meet the right person, sure. Why?”

“Does it matter what they think? They never cared about Shizun to begin with. Who cares if they think he’s attracted to me. It doesn’t change a thing.”

Well, yes, but. “It makes me look pretty pathetic. It’s not exactly a fun reputation to have.”

“What does?”

“That I want someone and the best thing I can do about it is insulting them? It does make me look like a kindergartener.”

An unholy light appears in Luo Binghe’s eyes. “So what if that wasn’t the best thing you had done?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Shizun feels pathetic because he doesn’t like the idea that people think he wants someone and he doesn’t know how to get them, right? But what if he did?”

Shen Yuan is very confused right now. “Binghe?”

“We knew each other before that first party, right? So I let them know that. We could be bitter exes!”

Shen Yuan looks at him, completely frozen. “Binghe, no.” That is 100% a terrible idea.

“Why not? It would explain everything! Why we’re so mean to each other while I’m nice to everyone else, why you’re worst to me, and why there’s tension between us!”

There is no tension between them! They’re playing characters! “People would think you’re gay!”

“I’ve been flirting with women all the time. People would think I’m bi.”

“You’ve just told me you haven’t been dating! What if they think you’re hung up on me, who, by the way, is a man!”

“Is it that bad? I wouldn’t mind. Shizun is someone I would certainly be hung on if he had left me.”

“So I’m the one who left you now? That makes even less sense! Why would someone like me leave someone like you! Of course Binghe is the one who left!”

“If I were dating Shizun, I would never leave him! He has to be the one who left me!”

Shen Yuan rubs his temples. He knew the conversation wouldn’t be simple, but it has reached unprecedented levels of nonsense. “Let’s forget who left who. We’re not doing that. Binghe would ruin his reputation to only slightly better mine. That makes no sense.”

Luo Binghe pouts. “It would have worked. I would have made a very good ex-boyfriend.”

Shen Yuan pats his back again. “I’m sure you would have. I, on the other hand, would probably have been terrible at it.”

“Why?”

“How could I have pretended to not only have dated Binghe, but to have separated from him? No one would believe it. My talents aren’t up to the task. I can’t make myself look like a plausible boyfriend to Binghe.”

Luo Binghe sighs. “That’s stupid. Shizun might as well have been my boyfriend lately.”

Shen Yuan feels a headache coming. He can barely follow the logic of this conversation. “Binghe, I don’t understand.”

“Shen Yuan spends most of his evenings with me. I cook for him. He takes me out. We’ve been writing to each other for months. He’s been carefully curating my reading lists for most of those months. He has plenty of reasons why I would be dating him.”

Okay, let’s just ignore most of that. “Nothing you listed has anything to do with the character we play for those society functions? High society Shen Yuan probably only reads classic literature, when he’s not working his high-power job and, I don’t know, checking stocks or playing the guqin. Nothing appealing there. How would we have even met?”

“Via work? Maybe you had a meeting with some executive of my father. Considering my reputation, we probably just had sex and ended up dating later on.”

Shen Yuan tries to imagine being the kind of person who would see Luo Binghe and think he could just hit that.

Impossible. Does not compute. “Look, I’m just going to ignore it. It’s always worked before. We probably shouldn’t change it.”

“But things always staying the same is bad! They must evolve!”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “Not necessarily. My life has mostly remained the same since I’ve graduated, and it’s perfectly fine.”

Luo Binghe flinches like a kicked puppy. “Is my arrival so unimportant to Shizun?”

Fuck. “No! That’s not what I meant! I mostly meant my romantic life!” Not really, he meant his life his general, but it is quite insulting to Binghe to imply he had no impact on his life, not to mention just an outright lie.

“That, too, should change.”

“It sure won’t if everyone thinks I’m gay.”

Under Luo Binghe’s breath, barely audible to Shen Yuan, “It’s not exactly an impediment.” Then, louder. “Let’s tell them the truth, then.”

Shen Yuan instantly panics. “Binghe, they can’t know the truth, it’ll fuck everythin-“

And that’s when Luo Binghe’s tongue finds its way into Shen Yuan’s mouth.

Shen Yuan’s mind freezes completely.

Luo Binghe keeps on kissing him.

Shen Yuan’s mind keeps trying to reboot.

Luo Binghe pushes back and sighs. “Does Shizun understand now?”

Nope. “…We can’t be exes if we’re kissing?”

“Forget the exes. Let’s just tell them we’re having sex. That’ll be the true part. We’ll just tell them it’s hate sex. I’ll tell them you’re just that good and I can’t resist you. That way, you won’t be pathetic, right?”

Shen Yuan’s slowly rebooting mind cannot decide if the “reputation for being gay” part would outweigh the “reputation for having seduced Luo Binghe” part.

Wait. “We’re having sex?”

Luo Binghe falters. “If you want to? Because I want to. A lot. But we’re pretty much dating and Shen Yuan didn’t seem to realise, so I thought maybe he’s not attracted to me, but you keep acting like I’m the best thing that ever happened to you when really, the reverse is true, and can we date already? Please?”

Shen Yuan opens his mouth.

Shen Yuan closes his mouth.

Shen Yuan tries to understand that, apparently, Luo Binghe has been trying to date him? Him? Luo Binghe? And him? As a couple? That is a thing that is apparently on the table?

Wait, Shen Yuan actually is a person who could have looked and Luo Binghe and have hit that!?

Woah.

“I…”

Luo Binghe’s eyes grow even wider as he waits for Shen Yuan’s response.

As if Shen Yuan ever had the capacity to tell Binghe no.

As if he ever wanted to. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

A second later, he gets an armful of overenthusiastic Binghe trying to choke him with too much tongue.

“But we’re not playing bitter exes.” Shen Yuan really has no belief in his ability to pretend he left Luo Binghe.

That he had him and is devastated he doesn’t anymore, sure. But that he’d manage to be cruel to Luo Binghe about it? There’s no way.

“That’s fine. I like the one with the hate sex much better anyway.”

To be honest, so does Shen Yuan.

_________________

Shen Yuan positions himself in such a way that he can track Luo Binghe’s movements across the room without looking like he’s doing more than reading on his phone.

He can tell from Sha Hualing’s particularly vicious grin that she’s about to deliver what she considers to be a crippling blow to his reputation.

He thrills when the expression melts, replaced by horror as Luo Binghe’s face turn sheepish. He can almost hear his embarrassed tone as he admits to the moral failing that is sleeping with Shen Yuan, universal pariah.

He can distinctly hear the cries of dismay and what he knows are roars of utter jealousy.

None of it shows on his face, but Shen Yuan grins.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #the AU where SY and LBH are both online friends and fellow socialites

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darth-bagel · 4 years

Text

OC Interview -- Sylvas Sha’ael (1/4)

I was tagged by @swtorizz @inventedbyawriter @shanfamilydrama and @theniveanlegacy (that's why there will be 4 parts, get ready xd)-- thank you all for tagging me 💙✨

Hello there! My name is Bagel, and I have some interesting people coming in today to answer questions, our first guest is an already infamous chiss smuggler!

(Artwork by @sentinelapologist 💙✨)

► Name? ➔ They smile charmingly as they plop down in their proper seat “At this moment in time? Sylvas Sha’ael.”

► Are you single? ➔ They chuckle “Hah, it’s complicated, but I’d say yes”

► Are you happy? ➔ “I’m good, there are refreshments, and no one’s shooting at me yet”

► Are you angry? ➔ “Nah, you’re good”

► Are your parents still married? ➔ They cock their head to the side, calculating for a few seconds “Pret-ty personal there, huh. I don’t know, you tell me”

NINE FACTS

► Birth place ➔ They shift a bit to sit cross-legged “Corellia, or so I’m told”

► Hair color ➔ “Black. Mostly. ”

► Eye color ➔ Their eyes narrow a bit “...Red”

► Birthday ➔ “29th day of 6th month, and yes I stopped paying attention to years a while back”

► Mood ➔ They flip their legs up on the armrest and sit sideways, more lounging at this point “I’m peachy, thank you~”

► Gender ➔ “Nah”

► Summer or winter? ➔ “I hate when it’s too hot so, winter. Easier to counter-act too much chill than the other way around”

► Morning or afternoon? ➔ “Morning. Surprisingly, considering I love sleeping in. But on the rare occasion, I vastly prefer it”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE -- “Dear gods, okay” They laugh and stretch a bit more.

► Are you in love? ➔ They raise one eyebrow and smile knowingly “Maybe”

► Do you believe in love at first sight? ➔ “Not really, no. Attraction or infatuation at first sight? Yes.”

► Who ended your last relationship? ➔ They wince and smile bitterly “A sniper. No, I won’t elaborate”

► Have you ever broken someone's heart? ➔ “I wouldn’t put it past me, I always try to be upfront about my feelings in those situations but-- probably”

► Are you afraid of commitments? ➔ “Not really. It is complicated tho, considering I like having multiple partners-- takes negotiations”

► Have you hugged someone within last week? ➔ They straighten up and sit normally for a second to think “I didn’t actually. That’s unacceptable!” They jump out of their seat and run backstage. There is some commotion, a muffled yelp, and laughter following it. Sylvas returns to their seat after a few moments with a huge grin and after cleaning their throat they continue “Yes”

► Have you ever had a secret admirer? ➔ “Oh yeah, multiple. And usually not that secret honestly. I still get messages and gifts from time to time. It’s very flattering, my ego loves it”

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ Their wide smile recedes slowly into a thin line “It’s hard to say. Let’s skip this one”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust? ➔ “Both is best. I let my lust be tinted with love, even for passing partners, or maybe not love. Adoration, infatuation. I really like making people feel good in my company. Am I romantic at heart? Maybe” They wink at the camera and lean back more comfortably.

► Lemonade or ice-tea? ➔ “Mix them!”

► Cats or dogs? ➔ “Droids” They keep a straight face for about 10 seconds before starting to chuckle “Joking! Both are great, but I’d skew towards cats”

► A few best friends or many regular friends? ➔ “A few best friends, I like having a limited, trusted circle. Safety reasons” They smirk but it has a sharp edge to it.

► Wild night out or romantic night in? ➔ “ A wild night out followed by a stay in, possibly even a sleep-in” They shrug “I like both, it’s a theme”

► Day or night? ➔ “I like day. Nights are great but, I tend to stay up late with occasional insomnia and it gets lonely… too much space to overthink things. Days are full of movement, I prefer that.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out? ➔ “Yes, I did. Multiple times. That’s why I now have a stealth generator”

► Fallen down/up the stairs? ➔ “... Yes. Once, and then out the window. It’s a long story. No, I won’t tell it” They have a shit-eating grin on their face.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “I’m not used to denying myself what I want but, there were a few times…” They trail off for a few seconds, eyes unfocused, before smiling apologetically.

► Wanted to dissappear? ➔ “Few times. Curiously I actually did manage to disappear for real”

FOUR PREFERENCES -- “Wait, wait, wait! Where’s the fifth ‘Have you ever’? I’m not that bad at counting you know…” They lean in and smile wider “Are you blushing, Bagel?”

--TECHNICAL TROUBLES -- WE’LL BE RIGHT BACK--

It pans back to Sylvas very happy with themselves, back to lounging across their seat. “Let’s continue~”

► Smile or eyes? ➔ “Ugh, decisions, decisions-- I like both, kay?”

► Shorter or taller? ➔ “Either is fine. I do appreciate taller tho, can be lots of fun~”

► Intelligence or attraction? ➔ “Attraction at first, but damn it-- both again. I’m predictable I know”

► Hook-up or relationship? ➔ “I do both, at the same time too. With everyone involved in the know, alright? Both is a different kind of fun and let’s leave it at that” They scoot around a bit, ending upside down with legs over the back of their seat. “What? Continue~”

FAMILY -- There’s a prolonged whine “Do I have tooooo?”

► Do you and your family get along? ➔ It’s hard not to smile at them sitting like that “I guess we don’t really talk. Becuz, ya know-- I don’t know them. But I do consider Liz and Rilfaen my family so we are pretty good. Didn’t see them for a while but we write and holo-call, they are busy ladies after all”

► Would you say you have a 'messed up life'? ➔ “My life is… interesting. But nah, some had worse”

► Have you ever ran away from home? ➔ “I did quit my apprenticeship to jump ship with some smugglers out of Corellia-- but I already was an adult, well. Kinda. And just sneaking out doesn’t count”

► Have you ever got kicked out? ➔ “Not from home!” They laugh and nearly fall over, but catch themselves on the armrests.

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends?➔ “Nah, I have a handy name for people I hate. Enemies, ya know. I usually have trouble with hiding my ire towards someone, so yeah”

► Do you consider all your friends good friends? ➔ “Yes, I do”

► Who is your best friend? ➔ “Again split between Liz and Rilfaen, they are very important to me”

► Who knows everything about you? ➔ “I’d like to say no one, I try to keep some secrets to myself-- keeps things interesting”

“Are we done? Lovely” They stand up and stretch, sure to make their shirt ruck up a bit as they wink at the camera. Music starts playing over the footage but Sylvas and Bagel talk and smile, laughing at something or other. In the end, they scoop Bagel into a tight hug, picking them up.

NEXT IN LINE -- GRAZ’ZT TENAR’RI, LORD OF THE SITH-- STAY TUNED

(I’ll tag @whoever-would-like-to-do-it @chaoticspacelesbians @kyber-heart @dragonheart-swtor -- if you want obviously, no pressure from this Bagel~)

#swtor #my swtor #darth bagel writes #oc: sylvas sha'ael #swtor smuggler #smuggler #chiss #i am writing those tags third time because tumblr is stupid #but!#this was hella fun to write #get ready i have three more #but i'll space them out a bit #at least now i have a nice template #anyway #again thank you all for tagging me on this one #enjoy the chaotic blueberry~#Graz'zt is gonna be nexxxt

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tsuki-chibi · 4 years

Text

Blueberry Peach (Adrien AUGreste) Part 31: My Prince

Start from day one on AO3: Blueberry Peach

Or read the whole series on AO3: Fruitful verse

--------

"What do you think, son?" Tom asked, straightening the covers on the bed. He stood back and surveyed the room, then added, "I know it's probably a bit smaller than what you're used to, but -"

"It's perfect," Adrien said, a warm glow filling his chest. Tom had called him 'son'. Him.

He looked around at the room, which admittedly was about a third of the size of what he was used to. It was laid out similarly to Marinette's, with a loft bed. A desk had been set underneath the bed for his computer and schoolwork. On the opposite wall was a large bookcase which held all of his books, his games, and his DVDs. Next to that was his television and gaming consoles. Then there was a large window which caught the sun in the early morning. Adrien had already checked - if he stuck his head out the window and twisted to the right, Marinette's balcony was just a hop away.

The closet was only about half full, mostly because Adrien had left a lot of his clothes behind. Amélie had looked like she wanted to spit nails when she realized that almost all of Adrien’s clothing was made by Gabriel. On the one hand, it made sense. On the other hand, it meant Adrien was constantly a walking, talking advertise for his father’s company. Amélie had promised that he could get some new clothing this coming weekend, and Adrien was looking forward to it.

It had only been two weeks since Amélie had given her official permission for Adrien to move in with the Dupain-Chengs. Things had moved very quickly since then. Émilie's second funeral had been held on a quiet Sunday morning. Gabriel, of course, had not been in attendance. Adrien hadn't spoken to his father since the day Hawkmoth had been arrested, and he was perfectly fine with that.

This past weekend had been spent moving all of his things into the Dupain-Cheng’s spare bedroom. For now, the mansion was going to remain empty. Amélie and Félix had returned to London because Félix couldn't stay out of school any longer. But Amélie had promised that they would both come up on the train next weekend, and the weekend after that Adrien and Marinette were going to go to London to stay with them. Adrien was looking forward to that, but of course he had to deal with this week first. He hadn't been back to school since his father's arrest.

In short, the room might have been smaller, and it was a tiny bit crowded because Adrien had way more stuff than he had ever realized he did, but it was the manifestation of Adrien's dreams because it had been prepared for him by people who cared. Not just by an interior designer who was only interested in collecting a considerable paycheck.

"Well, I don't know about that," Tom said, drawing Adien’s attention back to him, but he gave a pleased smile.

'Adrien, we're going to be late for school,' Marinette thought.

"I have to go; we're going to be late," Adrien said out loud.

Tom chuckled. "Marinette remind you? That's a new one. Usually she's running downstairs at the last minute."

The flush of indignation through the bond made Adrien smile. "She heard that."

"The truth hurts," Tom said, a twinkle in his eye as he picked up Adrien's backpack. He passed it to Adrien. "Are you kids coming right home after school?"

"I think we might go get ice cream with our friends," Adrien said, slightly uncertain.

"That's fine," Tom said. "Your curfew is the same as Marinette's."

"Uh... okay?" Adrien said. "I can just... go?"

Tom's smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "Adrien, we told you that you didn't have to keep doing all those lessons and being a model unless you wanted to. You said you didn't want to. Did you change your mind?"

Adrien shook his head. "No."

"Then yes, you can just go when you want. Within reason, of course. But Sabine and I didn't invite you to live here so that we could control your every move," Tom said, gently patting Adrien's shoulder. "Now I have to get back downstairs to the bakery, and you need to get going. We're both going to have annoyed soulmates on our hands otherwise."

"Thanks," Adrien said quietly, and Tom smiled again at him.

'I told you,' Marinette thought, but it was kindly.

'I know you did. It's just hard to wrap my head around,' Adrien thought, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Not having every minute of the day scheduled was going to be an adjustment – but a nice one.

He followed Tom downstairs and found Marinette waiting for him. She greeted him with a smile, a kiss to his cheek, and a warm scone. As Adrien took a bite of the scone, she slipped a couple wedges of cheese into his pocket for Plagg.

'I love you,' Adrien thought, and she laughed.

'I love you too,' she thought. 'Now come on!'

They made it to class a few minutes before the bell rang. Madame Bustier wasn't there yet, and neither was Lila. Adrien found himself to be a little glad about that as he took a seat beside Chloé. She looked really good today, wearing a white sundress, black knee-high boots, and a cropped yellow cardigan. The Bee miraculous was a perfect accessory for her color-coordinated outfit.

"So how's the new place?" Chloé asked, propping her chin on her hand.

"It's really, really good," Adrien said, smiling. Chloé had also offered him a room at the hotel, which he appreciated. It was nice to know he had options. He also liked that she had accepted that he was going to stay at Marinette’s without argument. He thought that Chloé might have finally understood how important she was to him, but more than that she had finally accepted it.

"Whenever you need a break, you can come play video games with me," Nino said from across the aisle.

"A break from what, exactly?" Marinette said, leaning over her desk and narrowing her eyes.

"Uh," Nino said. He cleared his throat. "I mean, whenever you need some guy time."

"I'll keep that in mind," Adrien said, trying not to laugh.

The door slid open and Lila came in. Adrien sighed to himself as he watched Marinette catch Chloé's eye. Both girls had an identical expression of mischief on their faces.

'I never should have made the two of you friends,' he thought.

'You shush,' Marinette thought at him. 'Let us have our fun.'

"Don't be ridiculous," Chloé said loudly, her voice perfectly pitched to carry. "Adrien won't need a break from his soulmate."

Instant silence.

"Wait, what?" Rose said in surprise. "Soulmate? Adrien found his soulmate?"

Chloé swung around to face her. "Yeah. He moved in with his soulmate over the weekend."

"Who is it?" Mylène asked, pointedly not looking at Lila.

"It's me," Marinette said, and she deliberately looked at Lila.

Lila's jaw dropped.

The class exploded.

"What the hell?!"

"Are you serious?!"

"Oh my god!"

Marinette's delight in the shocked, embarrassed look on Lila's face was enough to make Adrien smile too, though he tried to hide it. Chloé’s smirk stretched from ear to ear. They really were terrible, but there was no downplaying it now.

"Yes, we're serious," Adrien said, turning to face their classmates.

"So you've been soulmates this whole time?" Alix said, eyes wide. She looked like she was rethinking a lot, like two plus two was suddenly adding up to four when all along they’d thought it was three.

"Yup. They kept it secret because Adrien's dad is a jerk," Chloé said, idly examining her nails. Then she looked up with an innocent expression. "I knew because I was there when it happened at Daddy's party. Marinette tripped and dumped macarons all over Adrien."

Marinette flushed as everyone laughed.

"Did you have to tell them that?" she complained. “It was just a couple macarons! Not a whole tray!”

“I’m not sure that helps, Marinette,” Alya said, still giggling.

Chloé grinned. "But either way it's still true. Right, Adrikins?"

Adrien nodded. "The 100% truth, but I thought it was adorable," he said, giving Marinette a soft look. Marinette’s ire faded and she smiled back.

Lila's face was getting steadily redder. She had clearly worked out that Marinette and Adrien had been soulmates all along, but all she said was, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why should I?" Adrien said coolly. "The people who needed to know already did."

Chloé snickered. "Yeah, so you basically spent like three weeks pretending you were a soulmate to a guy who already one," she told Lila. "And the rest of you thought Marinette and Adrien should break up!"

There were various guilty and uncomfortable looks, Alya included. Lila just looked even more embarrassed.

"Like Chloé said, we can tell people now because Adrien's dad isn't an issue," Marinette said, bringing the attention back to her. "He can't keep us apart. No one can." Her tone was challenging, and she looked Lila right in the eyes.

Lila looked away - and then, without a word, she slunk up the steps and sat down in the back row in what would normally be Nathaniel's place, but he was out sick today. Marinette looked satisfied as she lifted up her bag and set it on the empty seat beside her.

The rest of the class peppered Marinette and Adrien with questions until Madame Bustier arrived. She had already been told about this - Tom and Sabine had contacted the school to let them know last week - so she wasn't surprised to see it was the topic of conversation. She just smiled and gently urged the class to take out their books. No one heard a peep out of Lila for the rest of the day, and when classes let out, Lila grabbed her stuff, ran down the stairs, and out the door.

Adrien watched her go and didn’t feel bad. Lila had brought everything on herself. If she hadn’t made such a big deal of it, no one would have said a word to her about this. He didn’t think anyone would tease her too badly, but as word about him and Marinette spread, Lila was going to have to deal with the consequences of her lies. This might even lead to more and more people realizing she had been lying all along. It seemed like a fitting punishment.

‘Damn straight,’ Marinette thought, getting up. ‘Now, you and Chloé hurry up! I want ice cream.’

"Wanna come get ice cream?" Adrien said to Chloé, who seemed surprised by the invitation but nodded.

So it was that Adrien, Marinette, Chloé, Nino, and Alya made their way to André's little cart. André whipped up a concoction for Nino and Alya first, loudly proclaiming them to be an adorable couple who deserved a blend of coconut, pistachio and mango ice cream. Then he turned to Chloé. He looked at her for a moment, eyes narrowed in thought, then smiled and gave her two scoops: one of banana ice cream and one of chocolate. Chloé took her ice cream cone, looking pretty content, and stepped aside. Then it was Adrien's and Marinette's turn. They stepped up together.

"Ah, young love," André said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I will get you something special. Yellow passionfruit to match his hair, blackberry for her hair..." He quickly scooped two balls of ice cream onto a cone, then added a third. "And lastly, blueberry peach to match her sky-blue stare and his pink lips! A perfect combination indeed!" He offered Adrien the ice cream cone.

"Thank you," Adrien said, taking the cone carefully. The combination of flavors was unusual but sounded delicious.

André tipped his hat to them. "A good day to you, my friends!" And then he headed off, whistling.

'Would you like the first taste, My Lady?' Adrien thought, scooping up a bit with the spoon and offering it to Marinette.

'Thank you, My Prince,' she thought back, her eyes twinkling, and opened her mouth. A flow of contentment came through the bond, so Adrien quickly scooped up some for himself to try. It really was as good as it had sounded. The fresh fruit taste danced across his tongue: a perfect medley of tart and sweet.

"Marinette, Adrien! Come on! Let's go walk along the Seine!" Alya called.

Adrien looked over at them, realizing that their three friends had walked ahead without them. Alya and Nino were chowing down on their ice cream, while Chloé was furtively sneaking tiny spoonful’s into her pocket for Pollen when Alya and Nino weren't looking.

It was nice. Nice to enjoy the warm afternoon sunshine with his soulmate, his partner, and their friends. Nice to not have to worry about familial or work pressure or akumas. Nice to see Chloé smiling and laughing with Alya and Nino.

He didn’t know what would happen with his father. But frankly, right now he didn’t care. He’d deal with it, like he had dealt with everything else, with Marinette at his side. The knowledge that his partner would be there was more than enough. They could deal with anything that came their way, especially with the help of their friends and family. His father couldn’t control him or anyone else anymore, and that was strangely freeing.

"I didn't know it could be like this," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, but of course Marinette heard. She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Aren't you glad I dropped those macarons on you now?" she asked playfully, and Adrien chuckled.

"I was glad for that from day one, but yeah. I really am," he said, pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. She tasted like fruity sugar.

But of course, the kiss only lasted for a moment before Alya called to them again. Adrien and Marinette ran to catch them. The five of them ended up finding a small spot on the banks of the Seine to sit and enjoy the sun. Adrien distracted Alya and Nino so that Marinette could sneak some ice cream to Tikki too. Even Plagg ate a little bit of it, though not before informing Marinette in a hissed whisper that cheese ice cream would've been a much better choice. Adrien would treasure Marinette's disgusted expression and feelings for the rest of his day.

For once, there was something right with the world, Adrien decided, when a fourteen-year-old boy could have this much fun with his friends on a lazy Monday afternoon. He smiled around at them all and wrapped his arm around Marinette's shoulders, contentedly breathing in the smell of her shampoo and basking in the contentment flowing through their bond. Chloé leaned against him on the other side, and Adrien wrapped an arm around her shoulders too. Nino, laughing, stole Alya's phone and leaned over to show them something on the screen, while Alya pouted and poked at him. Eventually Nino gave her phone back, and then gave her a kiss for good measure.

"Eww, no public displays of affection please!" Chloé said.

"Alya, stop kissing your boyfriend and show me that write-up you did of the new Fox and Turtle," Marinette said.

Nino sighed as Alya jerked away. "Rude, Mari."

"You'll survive," Marinette said with a grin.

"They were so cool!" Alya said gleefully, and Chloé gave a quiet, amused little snort. Marinette giggled too.

Adrien closed his eyes as their playful banter swirled around him, lifting his face to the sun like the cat that he was, and relaxed.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #adrienaugreste #alya cesaire #chat noir nino lahiffe #lila salt #blueberry peach #fruitful verse #IT'S FINALLY DONE

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hobbledhobbit · 3 years

Text

Paint and Patience

Another part of the tales of the Institute Green. This one following the Illustrator, Ms. Steam. .

A puff of smoke dissipated after swirling and distorting the stars it hovered in front of.

"Fear is strange. Was there any reason not to have it that you can be certain of?"

"For myself?"

"No, of course not." The pale man made a vague gesture into the building from their spot on the balcony. "Their fear."

He took another deep drag, awaiting her answer.

"All mortals have fear, Mr. Pale. The end always looms like the back cover."

He contemplated, letting his gaze take in the curvy and soft form of his coworker. She liked her candy striper outfit most of all and it let the inviting roundness of her form offer refuge in the form of a vast change in scenery from the black iron and gold speckled dark wood of their world.

"That's what I had figured too. But the fear is on all aspects. They love, there's fear; they succeed, there's fear; they give up...you get the idea."

Ms. Steam gave an amused hum before turning to him fully. "They are yellow. Maybe it's not the fear that gives you pause when dealing with them?"

Ms. Steam took the spent cigarette out of his hand and flicked it over the railing. He had a nasty habit of burning the filter when he was lost in thought. The smell was never pleasant.

Mr. Pale was slender and ordinary, his overall countenance being somewhat "beige", though his eyes held a sharp intelligence and his tongue a wicked wit.

Ms. Steam liked talking to the scrivener, he was always agitated over their charges and the conditions in which they were formed. The illustrator had an idea that it may be his only way to show his caring side for anything.

"I believe you're right," he finally said, "I am more enraged by those who live without that...I guess it would be more a concern for the welfare of others than fear…"

"Compassion?"

"Compassion! Yes, thank you. Those that lack compassion for others and make grand swathes of suffering. They hold my ire."

"Had one recently that's got you in this tizzy?"

"No. It'll be later this evening. I would feel bile rising in my throat if I had the capability. I taste the lies and excuses on my tongue and moving through my fingertips to take the last vestiges of their existence to print."

His voice grew ever darker, as he mimicked typing on his typewriter, his hands looking suddenly more large and sharp, his plain face gaining sharp edges and wider eyes, his teeth sharpening and slowly multiplying.

"Sickening, wretched filth!" He gurgled out.

Ms. Steam shrugged, unbothered. "We are only the record keepers. No need to grow attached."

He cleared his throat and fixed his appearance, brushing his blond hair back and suddenly looking more to his normal human-like form.

"We aren't machines, Ms. Steam. Every monster we document can feed our own monstrous nature, teach us our own excuses for screwing over other lives."

"What do you suppose we do for it then? Become judges for life forms that are under our care?"

"Teachers. I think the Evil need to be taught a lesson. We should make an example."

Ms. Steam waited for Mr. Pale to continue, but it was obvious from the way his eyes darted around in his head that the idea was still cooking.

She pat his head and made him look her in the eye.

"When you figure it out, set it up. I'm in thorough need of distraction. But for now, we must tend to our duties."

He gave a small nod and a tight lipped smile. It was no secret that he disliked his job, but he was the best at it.

She took her leave, walking in from the cold of outside to the warm hallway. Her shoes were almost silent upon the hard wood. The reflection of the candy striper outfit was blurred for a moment in the polished floor before it showed Ms. Steam in a plain, floral, flowy dress. She used the key around her neck to unlock her office door and step in.

The yellow glow of the human soul took a moment to take shape. Young and small.

"Sorry for being late," she smiled, "Are you ready for your portrait?"

The 'studio' was large. The ceiling was high and vaulted, the floor had many different colors and textures that one couldn't tell if it was made of dirt, marble, wood, or any of the other things floors are usually made of. There looked to be all sorts of settings along the long wall. Beaches to mansions, forests to kitchenettes, mountains to dumpsters.

The girl looked to be a little younger than a teenager. Short dark hair and brown eyes, sun-kissed skin and a strong jaw. She was in night clothes and looked overwhelmed, looking around from her seat on a fainting chair.

Ms. Steam went to her large desk and picked up some materials. She loaded a small tray with chalk pastels and paint.

"Take your time," she said to the girl, then paused giving her an understanding and patient look. "Tell me what you think is happening. This fear will go away soon, I promise."

"He killed Mom. I went to go hide my little sisters, but I guess he killed me too." She started to cry in earnest. "They're probably so scared. I don't know what to do! There's nothing I can do! I'm dead!"

She sobbed and screamed her dismay while Ms. Steam set up the easel near a beach setting.

"Angels are supposed to help the innocent!" The girl accused from her seat. She smacked her bare feet against the ground and stomped over to Ms. Steam. "You're supposed to protect us and God's supposed to deliver us from evil!"

"Deliver you where?" Ms. Steam turned to the girl, eyebrow slightly raised. She felt it wouldn't be the best option to tell the girl she wasn't an angel.

The girl's righteous fury was snuffed out by the calm of the question. She looked lost and on the verge of more tears.

"I-I don't know. If you're good, evil isn't supposed to happen to you." She sniffled, "And you're supposed to get rewarded for being good."

Ms. Steam sat on a stool to look the girl in the eye and wipe her tears with her skirt.

"I'm sorry, little one. The universe doesn't do good or evil. That's a human thing. Kind or cruel are choices people make."

Ms. Steam offered a hug to the child, who was falling apart again in tears. She accepted the hug, was wrapped in strong arms, and felt light as a cloud.

"The nightmare is over. I know it's scary to not know what comes next. But even your choices mattered so much at the end."

The girl was hiccupping through her sobs, clinging tightly to Ms. Steam. "They're so-s-so little and he's gonna hurt them!"

Ms. Steam rocked her lightly and pet her hair. "I know...what if I brought them here? Would you feel better knowing where they are? They would probably like to know where you are too."

Fear stabbed through the girl and she looked at Ms. Steam. "He killed them too?!"

"Long ago already. They're in my queue."

"What's going to happen?"

"I'm going to paint your picture of what you want to be remembered forever as. You're a good older sister. Brave, just, and with so much love in your heart that your last moments were thinking of nothing but protecting others. Rewards aren't in my job description, but I think that I could work one up for you."

"Holly!" Called two little voices from the fainting couch.

The girl turned and let go of Ms. Steam, running to the two blonde children running towards her in their pajamas.

"Katie! Kathy!" She called to the twins, hugging them tight to her and hurrying her face in their disheveled blonde curls. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry for what?" asked Kathy.

"Why are you sad?" asked Katie.

Before Holly could answer, they both noticed the beach and dragged Holly towards it.

Holly noticed that they were all in their bathing suits, and the studio had faded away entirely-there was only the beach then. She saw Ms. Steam still standing there, starting to work on the canvas in front of her. She gave Holly a wink before going back to her work.

Holly looked at her sisters who were already splashing in the water and got to playing with them. They built sand castles and played in the water together. The sun didn't bother any of them much, and they felt full and content.

Ms. Steam stepped back from her work, looking at the picture of Holly pulling her sisters through the water as the little ones kicked up a spray behind them.

The twins looked caught in a moment of trust and fun as Holly tried to teach them to swim.

The studio had phased back to its normal state, the girls now residing as the artwork. Ms.Steam added a single small cloud in the distance as her signature and bowed low at the piece.

"Thank you for the opportunity," she said.

When she stood back up, the canvas had a frame of glittering gold. She took it and wrapped it in plain brown paper before placing it in an adjacent room for delivery.

Ms. Steam dealt more with children and those that didn't have a command over their language. She found that younger children were more accepting of their fates than older ones. Responsibility and shame hadn't really had a chance to stick in yet and make them second guess everything.

She went about putting away her supplies and let out a sigh. She placed the last brush behind her ear and exited her studio. So long as her things weren’t all in place, the next soul wouldn’t show up.

The door she approached was labeled “Mr. Slow: Security” on a gold plaque. She knocked and entered, finding the large form of her colleague sitting at his desk, shining his shoes. He looked up boredly, eyes crinkling at the side once he recognized his visitor.

“Ms. Steam. What an unexpected and fun surprise. What brings you to my office?” His voice was deep and had an edge of threat to it. Unfortunately for Mr. Slow, she had taken the centuries to become immune to his specific charm.

“Mischief brings me here, Bacchus. Do you intend on participating or trying to subdue?” She leaned on the doorway, pushing her hair behind an ear. “I do so hate to lose out on the fun because someone had to distract you.”

Mr. Slow sat up and put his hands on his desk. “So long as the mischief isn’t brought to these halls, there’s no reason for us to tussle. I do have a feeling that I will be having to teach Mr. Pale a lesson later today, but that won’t likely interfere.”

This was met with an amused hum. She covered her mouth to feign hiding a smile, “I am starting to think Bartleby likes your teaching method. You boys and your roughhousing.”

Mr. Slow went back to shining his shoes, “I’ve been informed, Ms. Steam. Go back to your room. The day isn’t out yet, no matter how many clients you put in a single frame. Only the frame counts.”

“Pushy,” she teased, straightening herself out. “I’ll see you at the diner afterwards, Mr. Slow.”

The door closed, leaving Mr. Slow alone. He leaned back in his chair and thought about the conversation he had overheard on the balcony during his rounds. Redirecting fear could be a fun way to spend an afternoon.

#inkwell writes #Institute Green #Afterlife and those who work the shifts #Ms. Steam #Mr. Pale #Mr. Slow

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el-pintor · 4 years

Text

Thoughts about the Christmas special

This will be a long, long, long post...

First, I write about ZhanYi and then about Tianshan.

ZhanYi:

Jian Yi's comment about his strength:

— Jian Yi mentions that he is so strong that he could pull trees out. This is pretty interesting information. Because this could indicate the time during the kidnapping, depending on how seriously you can interpret the statements. Did he continue to train or drill? Is it the result of training with He Cheng?

- In addition, this drunk talking could also refer to earlier chapters. Jian Yi has a desire to become stronger because he felt helpless against Mo. Incidentally, it is the first appearance of Mo.

The apartment:

— Whose apartment is this? Probably Zhen Xis, since Jian Yi is only at Xi's apartment in the future chapters. In contrast to earlier insights, the apartment is also pretty tidy.

– However, the interior differs massively from the previous chapters. I don't expect Zhen Xi and Jian Yi to be living together at this point. Old Xian just may not have used the previous references.

— So the connection between the two seems to be as strong as ever since Xi possibly brings him home to his flat instead to Jian Yi's.

- And another proof of how much Xi's character has changed. Because in the beginning, he didn't want anything more than kicking out Yi as soon as he showed up.

- He also apparently abandoned the violent nature. Instead of beating him up, he sits down on the couch with him in an embrace and falls asleep. He doesn't even take off his jacket, but lets Jian Yi willingly hug him.

- Somehow cute. Nevertheless, I hope that he will soon no longer keep Jian Yi friendzoned and return his feelings.

- Just as home furnishings have changed, Zheng Xi's character has changed.

— But maybe that's Jian Yi's apartment after all. No one knows about his living condition.

- Does he live alone? Or with his mother? Maybe he's back in He Cheng's care? Does Zheng Xi even know Jian Yi's address?

I hope we can find out more soon.

Tianshan

I think there are a lot of inconsistencies and you don't really get their behavior.

First of all a few trivial comments.

Rings:

- He Tian wears the ring he took himself as a gift. Coincidentally, it also fits like a glove. Either it would be too big for Mo anyway, or you can adjust the ring.

- In the first panel, it seems that Mo is also wearing a ring.

He Tian flirting:

- He Tian goes straight to the attack and leaves no unnecessary time and doubts about his intentions: After flirting, he just takes off his jacket and throws himself and Mo on the bed.

- He is hopelessly in love and love everything about Mo.

- That Mo has a newfound interest on studying turns he even more on.

- I think despite the fact that the room is too small for him, he will develop a secret preference for the bed. Because it's narrow and there is no place to escape and to keep a certain distance. So perfectly made for cuddling and sticking close together.

The apartment, Room, whatever you can call it:

- I immediately noticed the rule with books (if they were books).

- The guitar on his bed plus other books.

- At first I thought that the "apartment" consists of only one room, but the kitchen and at least the bathroom are missing.

- it's quite empty and reminds of He Tian's empty apartment.

- Still, it's pretty run down and seems so cold. I hope Mo doesn't freeze.

Living condition:

- The question, of course, would be why Mo lives under this condition, although he would have it better in his mother's old apartment.

- Did he want to become independent as quickly as possible and therefore moved out so as not to further burden his mother?

- However, I hardly think that his mother would have been satisfied with the condition of the apartment, because the condition is worrying. I don't think he invites his mother over to his house.

-I don't know if that is standard in China when you don't have money. In addition, 19 is still quite young. Many people still live with their parents at this age.

- Did something happen to the mother? Hopefully not.

But maybe Mo is just rebellious and proud that he could afford something of his own.

Indications of Mos' current activity.

- As I said, I immediately noticed the rule with books (if they were books). Which of course is totally untypical for Mo, since he was never interested in books and learning.

- Are these cook and music books?

- Can someone tell me what's written on this book?

- The book in He Tian's hand has an unusual book form. So I suspect that this is a music book with notes or tabs. It seems to be at least a book for studying.

- So does Mo study anything with music and do his part-time jobs to finance it?

- Does he study anything else?

- Does he go to university at all?

- Or does he really earn his money only with part-time jobs? Obviously he won't make much money with it, so they could only be an interim solution if Mo didn't want to keep this lifestyle for life.

- For the university in China you need a lot of money, which you couldn't pay on your own. But there is the possibility of scholarships (I just assume that there is also something like that in China). Maybe he got a music scholarship?

- Mo doesn't seem to have many things. Of course, the books and the guitar are striking.

The guitar

- At first glance, the guitar is reminiscent of He Tian's guitar, which he would like to give to Mo.

- If you take a closer look, they are identical in shape and color, but they are two completely different guitars.

- He Tian's guitar is an acoustic (or concert) guitar and Mo's is an electric guitar.

- Could it be a little mistake from Old Xian?

- Perhaps this is also a later gift from He Tian after Mo learned to play guitar with the acoustic guitar and get advanced. A lot of people start with an acoustic guitar before playing electric guitar.

- Maybe the guitar is from the same serial production.

- Maybe He Tian owns the acoustic guitar and buys an electric guitar for Mo from the same series after Mo's interest for learning guitar has been completely awakened.

- By the way, you need a guitar amplifier for full fun with an electric guitar. I didn't see it in his room.

- Unless this could be an amp. Does anyone know what this thing could be? For me this could be organizers.

- It's s also extremely inconvenient in an apartment to turn it up fully. (Do more people actually live there? The apartment looks more like an old rehearsal room or a garage. My rehearsal room looked something like this, that's why the associations).

- You can also play the electric guitar on headphones, but that's pretty impractical because of the sound (it differs, if you use headphones ir not) and you still need an amp.

- By the way, music it's a costly pleasure. So, it is all the more interesting what exactly Mo does and how he finances everything.

- But I think those are little things that Old Xian probably doesn't think about (something that you easily can forget) .

- I wonder if Mo is in a band. Maybe with Zhen Xi together.

So now to the most complicated point:

Hey Tian, his disappearance and the relationship with Mo.

- One learns that He Tian was not in China for a while.

Many questions arise from this:

- When was he gone?

- How long was he gone?

- Has he been away for a long period of time or is it a coming and going? A lot of it is pretty unclear, so you could guess both.

- The fact that He Tian was away for a long time speaks for the fact that he has never been to Mo's apartment. Has Mo just recently moved there?

- What is also new for him is that Mo reads books or even studies. You should actually know that if you were in regular contact. So is this a recent Mo hobby? That is rather unlikely. So how much did they really have to do with each other in the 4 years?

— However, there are some arguments against staying longer:

- He Tian knows where Mo works. If He Tian had been away for years, how would he know where Mo works? From Jian Yi or Zahn Xi? Maybe from Mo himself? Mo would most likely not give it away. So He Tian should at least stop by for visits.

- The second thing that speaks against it, is that Mo knows where He Tian lives. He Tian probably didn't change his apartment, but could have been if you weren't in the country for a long period of time. At least that doesn't indicate radio silence.

The relationship with Mo:

- After the chapters and all the hints, it was thought that the penny had finally fallen between the two, but no.

- Their relationship to each other has not really changed.

- Mo is still dismissive to He Tian.

There are several reasons about this matter:

— 1. Mo feels hurt and probably betrayed too.

- He Tian asked Mo in middle school not to abandom him. Now HE was the one who left and left Mo behind. Depending on the point in time at which this occurred, it is logical to first react in a negative manner.

— Nevertheless, He Tian seems to be a part of Mo's life, which he does not really want to give up and maybe also gives evidence that he might misses him.

The following aspect indicate

- He lit a cigarette, reminiscent of He Tian.

- He is still wearing his earrings.

- In addition, the design of his electric guitar is similar to He Tian's.

— 2. Mo couldn't build a closer bond with He Tian because He Tian left the country right after middle school.

- How can you build a relationship if you hardly see or not see each other?

- Mo has problems with trust. So I can imagine, that this could be extremely bitter for him and he is angry. Especially if he had open up to He Tian and then his gone.

— 3. Mo is just too stubborn to admit his feelings and get involved with He Tian and is a tsundere, so he have to act this way.

- Definition of a tsundere: "A tsundere is a character, most often female and in anime, who switches from being tough and cold towards a love interest into being soft and sweet"

- Well, I'm not so keen on these whole tsundere explanations. Of course his character is like a tsundere but it would be to simple to explain his character so one sided.

- Even tsundere characters can make progress and that's what I missing. The reationship between those two is going back and forth mostly two steps back and one forth. It's like they are stuck in this, just like ZhanYi are stuck in their relationship. But in this matter you know that Jian was gone for three years. Still I hoped Zhan Xi would finally admit his feelings, but he rather go with the safety zone. The case of Tianshan is way more complicated: You don't know what happened between them in these years. But He Tian seems to be in love more than ever and Mo seems to that he still hasn't figured out his feelings and doesn’t give the attention that He Tian wants. Mo is 18 or 19, not 15 anymore and I wish he would act more mature. But on the other hand, He Tian is really pushy again and is testing his limits. It's understandable that Mo acts irritated.

- So I think they are still don't there where you can call this a mutual relationship.

- They will eventually in the future, but this will take a lot more time obviously and they have a long road ahead.

Of course there is progress:

- Mo seems to have grown used to He Tian's approach.

- He is less aggressive, can even be touched, and he doesn't immediately panic. In the other special he even voluntarily shares a room with He Tian.

- On the other hand, He Tian seems to have become more courageous, so you thought, they really started out with a physical relationship.

- He gives away condoms, hugs him profusely, and tries to get to his butt (other special).

- Maybe they really did have an on-off thing.

- Old Xian indicated that He Tian was allowed to stay the night. So Mo doesn't throw him out. The only question is whether he is allowed to sleep in bed or whether the floor has to suffice.

- So yeah, for me this is really confusing.

Other abnormalities:

- Where's the dog?

- Did Xi stays true to the music? So far there has not been a hint of a musical instrument at his flat.

- What about Yi? Does he continue to play the guitar?

- And He Tian?

- When and why did Mo get his second piercing?

- He Tian doesn't seem to wear the chain with ring. Maybe he get it later?

#19 days #oldxian #zhan zheng xi #Jian Yi #mo guan shan #he tian #tianshan #zhanyi #Analysis #I should rather deal with university #19days

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silenthillmutual · 3 years

Text

2020 Creator Wrap

I was tagged by @stvlti to do the 2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works tag! Thank you, sm!! c:

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Tagging: @lawliyeeeet @soupcans @kunoiichi @milk-teeths @darkpaladin and anyone else who wants to!! Though there’s no pressure to do this if you don’t want<3

So... according to my AO3, I seem to have published or updated 63 works in 2020, which is just a whole hell of a lot more than I usually do! So I’ll pick the going from oldest to newest that I’m most happy with :)

CONTENT WARNING though, under 18 please do not read below the cut as two of the fics are M and one is E. Additional content warning: two deal with self harm and one with intrusive thoughts, and one with pregnancy.

01 || Communication (T)

I think this was when I really hit my stride with understanding how I wanted to characterize Daniil, specifically, and more generally when I worked out how I wanted to write his relationship with Artemy. I tend to focus on the ways in which they communicate differently, and I think I pulled off their voices relatively well.

Favorite moment, when I managed to slip some autism into my characterization:

This is a flaw of his - a messy, embarrassing secret, this inability to distinguish jokes and sarcasm from serious discussion. He masks his insufficiency with a flat-toned seriousness. People find it harder to separate the sarcasm and the jokes from his regular speech when he makes no vocal distinction, and he enjoys the discomfort it brings in others. He considers it, to a degree, payback. A taste of their own medicine. And when he wants to make it clear where his feelings lie, he’ll be picky with the words themselves. He is, if absolutely nothing else, exceptional in the area of verbal self-expression.

02 || sine sole sileo (M)

This is one of my older works and it is far from being my best, it’s terribly out of character and woobifying, but I’m fond of it as my first really long and more emotional work for the fandom. I had fun writing the first chapter out as a Twitter thread, and then expanding on it. It’s multi-chaptered and actually finished, which is something I have a hard time with!

Favorite moment, which I still actually kind of like, despite everything:

He knows the silence behind the doors, too. It’s a stillness that makes the tips of his fingers buzz. How many days has it been now? Three, four? Artemy though he’d changed the sheets, added new notations. Welcomed in the vocals, the strings, the what-ever-else accompanied performances like this in the Capital. His verses hadn’t been well-sung, but the band had started to play with him. He’d come to anticipate the thrumming percussion. A heart with its own rhythm. Footsteps that rose and fell. Words that lilted, that lead, that brought the symphony to a heightened frenzy.

But silence is a kind of noise too. Where the heart doesn’t beat. Where the voices don’t speak. Even when there is nothing, there is noise.

Artemy has to take a breath before he opens the door. He knows he won’t like what he sees, but he’s seeing so much more in his mind than will be there to greet him. His eyes shake and jostle him to great many things: a gun, a hook, a rope, stained bedsheets and curtains ripped from windows. He sees death even before his eyes adjust because he can smell it, and because he can hear it.

Twelve, he thinks.

03 || o tempora, o mores (M)

This fic was my baby! I wanted so badly to write a character struggling with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder the way I do, and while it’s not my best-performing fic for the fandom (I haven’t kept track of which one is, actually) it’s probably my favorite. I worked so hard on this one, trying to replicate what it’s like to struggle with OCD, and it felt so gratifying to do. I’m currently working on a follow-up to this one, and I’m very excited for it as well!

Favorite moment is really the whole thing, but I do like this in particular, because I feel it really resonated with how intrusive thoughts and compulsions work for me:

The self-talk gives him enough of a boost to get him through the doors of the hospital. It feels safer here, where there’s only the ill and the dead instead of the thousand living eyes trying to touch him. No one comes to bother him here, just him and Artemy and sometimes Clara and Rubin until a few days ago –

YOUR FAULT. HE IS SICK BECAUSE OF YOU. HE IS IN TROUBLE BECAUSE OF YOU. IF RUBIN DIES, IT IS BECAUSE OF YOU. “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” Daniil mutters. THE EYES KNOW THE VACCINE DIDN’T WORK. THEY ARE WAITING FOR YOU TO ADMIT IT, ADMIT THAT THERE IS NOT ENOUGH TO PROTECT THEM SO THEY CAN HAND YOU TO THE DOGS. THEY WANT TO RIP YOUR BODY OPEN AND DEVOUR YOU. CANNIBALS, ALL OF THEM. AND YOU CAN’T RUN FOREVER. “Stop it,” he repeats, and tries to dig a jagged nail into his wrist.

It won’t go. Too slippery from the ointment Victor applied. He has something in his bag to help, another jagged edge, a rusted pair of scissors lost to their original purpose. The Morae were busy here, he’d thought the first time he saw them, and had laughed at his own clever joke. But now he feels the red string is his skin.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. (it is starting to hurt these could be infected they are dirty they are rusted,) Eight. (but it has to be ten he has to get to ten it has to be even) Nine. (has to be a multiple of five but even always even, no odd numbers in sight)

04 || vita in motu (E)

Heheh I’m in danger (chuckles).

I’ve only managed to get one piece of hate for this fic which I figured would draw way more ire and make me orphan it, and I’m glad I haven’t had to because I’m stupidly attached to the concept. I was trying not to go for E rated fics for this, but this fic meant so much to me to write and for something marked explicit I put a lot of thought into how I wanted to characterize Daniil for it.

So. Yeah. Publishing it was scary as hell but I’m glad I did. I also got some really nice feedback on it, and more than I expected to. I’m very happy with how it turned out.

Favorite moment was actually much longer at the start of it, though kind of like with o tempora, o mores I actually really like how the whole fic turned out. But I really liked this part because I view Artemy as someone who would be very grounding for Daniil to be with:

“Stay in the moment,” Artemy tells him, and kisses him again, kisses him slowly. “Stay here with me. I love you.”

It should be utter nonsense, to give in so quickly to this, but Artemy makes it easy. Daniil would never have seen this in his future, would not have even made this as a joke. Something had to beat down his resistance to the emotional, a pro to outweigh the cons he associated with vulnerability. Keeping tightly bound was the safest bet, the easy one. He could say he lacked emotion, and anyone would buy it. Nothing short of a miracle could drag him back to the land of the living – but then again, nothing short of a miracle could have saved this town. Artemy Burakh is a man who manufactures miracles.

05 || it’s sacrilege, you say (T)

This is the last fic that I wrote out that I took a lot of time planning instead of going “hey, I think this idea would be neat” and slapping it onto paper. And I think it turned out really well!! I almost wanted to do something darker with it, more akin to Silent Hill, but I have other ideas in mind for that kind of AU that I’ll play with later, one of which will be a sort of crossover with TMA.

Favorite moment is when I actually implied the twist, though I’m not sure you can call it a twist at all when I used proper tags:

Her eyes drift from Daniil to the wall, pivoting to look through the window. “No,” she says. “I don’t know why he made you.”

The center of Daniil’s chest feels like a flower, budded but unopened. Smooth, perhaps, but heavy to move, and his petals are made of something sharp. Crystal, maybe. And he can feel the petals start to part with her words, though they make so little sense to him. He steps forward, closer, half expecting Aspity to recoil from him, but she stays unnaturally still as he approaches. He reaches out to wet his lips, dry as sand, before he speaks. “Made me?” There’s no tone in his voice. “What do you mean, made me? And who are you talking about?”

She doesn’t turn to face him. She blinks, and lashes fall on sunken cheeks. “Do you remember how you got here, doctor?” He opens his mouth, but she’s faster. “Not to my home. To Town. Think: Can you remember how it is you came to be here?” Daniil grinds his teeth on the side of his tongue, sharp edges digging into the flesh. The flesh. The flesh . “Take your time,” she says, but it sounds like a joke. “The last train that arrived brought the menkhu, and no one else aboard it. There are no other ways into our Town.”

#icarus.txt

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melwritesbadly · 4 years

Text

With Wings in All Black

After a tragic turn of events, Kazama Kaori , AKA Hex, has her investigation swept out from under her by the #2 Pro Hero. Reluctantly she joins Hawks in the pursuit of justice. On top of trying to solve the biggest case of her career, Kaori is still a young woman struggling to find her place in the world. Life is turned upside down as her professional and personal lives start to blend.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Content Warnings: slight language, implied violence/death

________________________________________________________

Assistance Requested: Information and surveillance details urgently needed regarding reported missing persons. Suspected Vigilante involvement, or other syndicates. Please respond for additional details.

Status of current investigation: Ongoing

__________

A Murder of One

Hex adjusted the dial on the receiver on her headgear tuning in to the frequency of the microphone planted in the bar below her. She hoped the ungodly amount of paperwork she traded for the device was worth it. The other detectives at the station simply shrugged at her evidence- or rather, her lack-thereof.

Still it didn’t change the facts.

Fact 1- Low level criminals are disappearing.

Fact 2- People are disappearing

Fact 3- No one cared- but her.

Fact 4- Takei Kenji, one of the missing, had recently been seen in the area and was seemingly ‘not himself’ as described by the anonymous tip that was forwarded to her.

Takei Kenji, age 27. Minor invulnerability quirk. Last known occupation: ‘Nightwatchman’ for a warehouse commonly used for clandestine meetings for the local riff-raff. Reported missing by his mother 3 weeks ago.

After speaking with Mrs. Takei, she pieced together Kenji’s new schedule. After tailing him a few days he truly seemed like a new man, reformed.

His dress was proper and pristine, clean shaven and hair combed and presentable. It was a stark contrast to the photo used on the missing person flier taped to her pinboard (along with all the other missing persons). With no discernible pattern, at least not to her, about the next victim(?) or the whereabouts of any of the others, Kenji was her best, and only lead.

Tonight, she could expect him to show at one of his usual haunts. The bar below her. Not to her personal taste, the clientele of the more stabby nature.

Earlier that week she managed to convince the bartender to spill a few snippets of the conversations between Kenji and the other patrons.

“The Bard this, The Bard that.” griped the bartender as he dumped the trash into the alley dumpster. “It’s pissing off my regulars and they’re pissy enough as it is.”

He should have been here an hour ago though. Hex sucked on her lower lip, displeased as she scanned the road leading to and from the bar entrance. She’d give it another half hour then try and regroup on his trail in the morning.

“Cheers to another late night.” she muttered to herself listening in to the chatter and ambiance of the dive bar.

________

Her 30 minutes go by and she huffs before finally switching the receiver off. She’d go by tomorrow to get the mic back. Just as she was about to stand from her perch Hex heard the unmistakable beat of wings above her, large ones, judging by the sound.

It reminded her of her father. Probably one of the last people she wanted to see right now. Especially since her only lead ditched her for the night.

This night sucks.

Hex thinks to herself, finally looking up intending to see the dark wings of King Crow finally come to drag her home but instead, she sees red.

This has to be the reason Kenji never showed. The thought bounces around her head angrily as none other than the number 2 Hero in Japan descended from the nightly heavens and landed on her rooftop.

This night really sucks.

“Yo!” Hawks held up a hand in greeting neatly folding his very noticeable wings against his back, shoving the other hand into his pocket.

“Will you get down!” Hex harshly whispers, gesturing him to stoop down and out of sight.

“Jeesh, hi, hello how are you? I’m fine, thanks for asking.” he jokes casually but still squats down feet planted on the ground resting his arms on his knees. Hex shakes her head and resumes her post looking up and down the street despite her previous resignation.

“You’re Hex right?” he starts “I’m-” She cuts him off not taking her eyes off the street.

“Obviously I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. Especially every lowlife in the area who’ve probably fled after seeing your chicken legs flailing in the wind.”

“Ooo, ah, that’s my physical appearance. That hurts you know.” Feigning being wounded, Hawks placed a hand over his heart but still kept the jovial tone. A smart smirk inching up his cheek continuing.

“But you’re not after ‘every lowlife’, though right? Just the one. Takei Kenji?''

She turned to him and tilted her head, large round eyes finally meeting his sharper, more angled ones.

“How did you...?” she trailed off, honestly surprised. It wasn’t common knowledge on how her ‘investigation’ was going. Uncommon because, well quite frankly… no one cared. Especially other Heroes.

“Sorry Chickadee but I got some bad news.” Hawks stood back up and crossed his arms leaning against a nearby cooling unit.

Hex rolled her eyes

“Don’t call me that. What happened?” She looked up at him.

“Well, one of my guys found your guy in… not great shape.”

Hex cursed running a hand through the back of her head, then sighed.

“How bad?” prepping for his answer.

“Morgue bad”

“Dammit!” cursing again, pinching her brow reeling from the implications.

“Your buddies at the station said you'd might want to know as a professional courtesy” brow pinched once more, Hex felt the annoying start of a headache between them.

“Courtesy? For what...” a thought flashing through her mind and she stood eyes going wide “Don’t you dare close my case!” jabbing a finger in his direction.

He turned his head to face her more, still calm, still leaning, still observing.

“Close it? Oh no, wouldn’t think of it Chickadee. I’m taking over the investigation.”

Hex gaped. Momentarily at a loss for words. The frustrations starting to come to a point at the back of her neck, feeling an uncomfortable bristle forming.

“What no, you can’t! Do you know how much work” gesturing wildly with her hands “How much time! The favors I had to do, the resources I scrounged for-”

“Which are no longer a problem.” He blocked one ear with a finger and shot her what would have been an award winning smile “No need to shout Hex. Obviously I want to keep you,” He paused, throwing a wink her way “Keep you on the investigation that is.”

Hex scoffed,her head bobbing back as she shot him an incredulous look.

“I don’t do agencies, and I’m no one's sidekick.” she threw another annoyed jab of her finger in his direction.

“Ooo touchy. Freelance then. Sound good Chickadee?” Hawks held up his hand to maybe physically shield him from her ire.

“Stop calling me that and maybe I’ll let you help”

He smiled-no smirked again pushing off of the cooling unit he was leaning on stepping towards her shrugging his shoulders.

“That doesn't sound like a mutually beneficial arrangement to me.” Hex rolled her eyes and crossed her arms haughtily with a huff.

“And how does calling me stereotyped nickname benefit you, birdbrain.”

Hawks chuckled. He didn’t expect it to be so easy to ruffle her feathers.

This was going to be fun.

“Isn’t that how these buddy cop movies play out? One hard-ass with a secret heart of gold and their handsome, comic relief partner put aside their differences to crack the case and learn the meaning of cooperation and friendship. Roll credits”

Hex tilted her head and shot him an unamused expression, opening her mouth to speak.

“I am not a hardass-” she stopped herself holding her palm up to stop the little banter she was getting pulled into. “Can you circle back, Takei Kenji?”

“Can we circle back to this team up? After all this is my case now?”

Hex scrunched up her nose, not pouting, she told herself, and re-crossed her arms.

“Sounds like something a hardass would say.” she snarked and he grinned again, throwing his arms up bringing them down behind his head.

“You caught me. Hawks, the hardass with a heart of gold. Guess that makes you my handsome, no wait, beautiful partner then. So how's about it Chickadee?”

“Uhg” Hex clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes again. Squaring her shoulders she placed her hands on her hips

“I want a contract. Full access and authority over any and all future developments and details about my case.” Hawks nodded but shot her a finger gun.

“Our case.”

“Whatever!” she sighed looking up at the night sky hands still on her hips.

“The agency manager can draft up whatever you’d like tomorrow. Let’s go see what Kenji had in his pockets shall we?”

Hex nodded reaching up to her headgear. She flicked the visor portion that was pushing her hair back over her eyes. The experimental mirrored tint softening the city night lights. She switched the setting on her earpiece making sure the seal around the was snug. Hawks floated a foot above the ground looking a little bored as he waited.

Show off

Hex activated her own quirk, the bundle of jet black feathers at the base of her hair sending a shiver down her spine causing other inky feathers to erupt from her skin. The ebony plumes forming patterned rows along her arms covering them completely.

Letting them creep upwards to the sides of her neck but stopped them before then could go any further on her body. Just enough for her to achieve flight. She did a small jump maintaining the upward moment with a strong flap of her feather covered arms and started for the station.

Harpy Hero: Hex

Quirk: Harpy- Half human, half bird! She’s able to do most things a bird can do and then some! Most notably, she can grow enough feathers to achieve flight.

______

There is no traffic in the sky and the previously chatty #2 Hero was silent during their flight. Hex was thankful, it gave her some time, however brief, to think.

This new development was...tragic. Someone would have to tell Mrs.Takei in the morning.

It should be me...

It’s just, Kenji was small time. So why would he turn up dead?

And more importantly...

Hex cast a look in her periphery at the Fierce Wing Hero.

How did this fall into the lap of the number 2 Hero?

______

Hawks landed first. Not bothering to tame his windswept hair but did look up to observe Hex’s descent. She wasn’t quite as fast as him, well, then again, no one was. But she was graceful and skilled as she navigated the air currents.

Fanning her wings wide Hex slowed her movements getting ready to land. A few more well practiced flutters and she also touched back down. Before she can remove her headgear she dispels her feathers. Casting them off with a quick flick of her arms. She hardened them into slivers then ground them to sand with another flick to minimize the mess and general rudeness of not picking up after your quirk.

She adjusted her headgear and hair and blatantly ignored the cheeky claps and nods of approval from the man besides her. She strode past him and up into the station. The night reception paid her no mind but did double take when they saw Hawks’s crimson wings engulfing their foyer.

Just outside the morgue waited a man with an impressive and well manicured mustache. He wore a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders and the first few buttons open.

“This her boss?” he asked in an accent indicating that he was from Australia.

“Hex,” she offered “And you are?”

“Duke Amazing. Pleasure.” he greeted offering his hand. She was not expecting such a strong handshake.

“Given the circumstances…” she trailed off. “You found Takei?”

“Well, what’s left that is…” Duke gestured to the door he was waiting in front of “They’ve finished up for now. Just waiting on the bossman for the paperwork and whatnot.” He made another gesture in the direction of a door a little ways down the corridor.

“They’ve got his belongings in there”

“Perfect, cross the t’s and dot the i’s for me Duke?” before his sidekick could answer Hawks was already starting down the corridor. Hex followed close behind.

Duke shook his head crossing his arms.

“June’s gunna pitch a fit again Hawks”

“Op, can’t hear you, the doors closing!” gently shoving Hex in the room and hastily closed the door behind them.

“Uhg paperwork” He bemoaned and leaned against the door

“Paperwork” Hex commiserated but was already looking over the items laid out on the small table.

There wasn’t much but everything was bagged, labeled and detailed on a piece of paper next to the items.

There was a small wallet, no money, a personal ID card. An older model cell phone, unusable. Most likely damaged in whatever altercation Kenji found himself in.

“Probably a burner” Hawks shrugged “Still, I'll get someone to pull the numbers.” He made no move to examine the items himself but instead watched Hex very carefully as she examined each one.

She cupped her chin as she looked at the final piece of evidence, brow furrowed.

“I’ve seen this before...” she commented, turning over the small business card over front to back several times examining it.

While it was the same shape and card stock as a business card it held no information. No address, phone number, or even a business name. All that was printed was an indigo triangle.

“What is it?” He was curious because he had no idea what the shape meant either.

“I…” she started, brows still furrowed. “I have no idea, but I know I've seen this...”

She placed the bagged card back on the table and leaned over it rubbing her hand to the back of her neck smoothing down her feathers there. The memory of where she’d seen this particular shape eluding her.

“Maybe at his apartment?” she muttered to herself, then sighed

“I’ll have to go back over my notes.” Hex leaned up from the table and unzipped her jacket pulling out her phone and snapped a quick picture on the item.

“How about we meet back up tomorrow then. Let me give you my number.” Hawks held out his palm asking for her phone. She was just about to hand it over but thought better and pulled it back causing him to catch air.

“No social calls, no memes at 3 in the morning, no unsolicited pictures.” her tone stern

“What if they’re tasteful?” he made a grabby motion with his hands and gave his brows a waggle.

“They’re never tasteful.” she quipped back but finally relented and handed over her phone.

Hawks flipped it over in his hands and quickly typed in his information jokingly setting the name for his number “Unsolicited dick pics” with an appropriate emoji next to it. He sent himself a quick text with her phone then clicked hers off and handed it back to her.

He was extremely pleased when she didn’t double check his contact info and simply zipped the phone back into her pocket. His little joke would be a fun surprise for the morning then.

“Send me where you want to meet tomorrow” She pressed her fingers to the back of her neck again “I’m heading out. Looong night”

Hawks moved away from the door and let her pass, parting for the night.

“Well that led to a whole lotta nothing” He mused to himself finally taking his turn to look over the offending card stock.

“It’s never an easy mess to clean up is it?” He tossed the card back on the table.

_________________________________

#wwiab #hawks #bnha hawks #mha hawks #hawks x oc #keigo takami #takami keigo #original character #hawks bnha #hawks mha #boku no hero academia #my hero acadamia #hawks x reader

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sandalaris · 4 years

Note

“So why did I have to punch that guy?” for SethKate!

"So why did I have to punch that guy?"

Seth laughs, low and amused and somehow managing to tick Kate off more. If he wasn't currently holding her very sore hand (punching people hurts, like a lot apparently) in both of his she might be tempted to storm off. Or at least cross her arms and lift her chin to express her displeasure at Seth's utter lack of taking her ire seriously.

"At least it's not broken," he says almost absently, still running calloused fingers in gentle lines over the back of her hand and knuckles. She winces a second later when he moves her tumb back and forth, testing mobility. "Didn't tuck your thumb in like a dumbass," he adds, "but we'll have to work on your swing. Too fucking tiny to be taking shots like that without practice."

Learned from you, she thinks as his entire body twists, rummaging one-handed through the first aid kit he insisted on bringing out the moment he got her back to their hotel. Imitated what she'd seen him do before when he snapped at her to hit the smarmy goon standing between them and the exit.

"You didn't answer my question," she says, trying for sharp and ending up more in the area of a grumbling pout.

He shrugs, quick lift his shoulders that pulls the material of his shirt taut across the breadth of his back and along the line of his bicep in a way that almost succeeds in distracting her.

"He was expecting me to hit him," he says casually, ripping her attention back to where he's tossing bits and pieces from the kit in his effort to find the ones he wants and away from the interesting play of muscles along his side. Ok, maybe she's a little distracted. He turns back around, a fistful of various medical supplies in his hand.

"Hold this," he says, shoving an white ace bandage roll into her uninjured hand before snagging her right in both of his once more. "I was expecting you to slap him actually," he adds, ripping a packet of antibiotic ointment open with his teeth and dabbing Neosporin straight from the package onto a nearly invisible scrap along one of her knuckles. He looks up, flashing his teeth on a grin with too much self-satisfaction that still manages to twist something warm and a little nervous in her chest. "Not go all Rocky on his ass."

She pins him with an unamused look, watching him casually toss the still mostly full packet to the floor without care for where it lands. He tilts her hand back and forth, and Kate again fights the urge insist she's fine. Seth's protective streak is a mile deep, if a little selective in its target, and she's learned to let him have his moment to fret and hover over her after an injury. Even Richie's rapid culebra healing and near bulletproofness isn't enough to stop Seth when he decides someone he cares about needs tending to. Better to pick her battles.

And it does hurt, even if she has had worse, base of her fingers already swollen and red, and wrist sore even just sitting unmoving in his hands.

He sets a small piece of gauze over the shiny patch of ointment, pressing it down lightly until it sticks before grabbing the ace bandage from her free hand. He yanks the end roughly and begins to wrap it around her wrist and the palm of her hand, wrapping around the base of her thumb before tucking the end under an edge along the side.

"There we go," he says with no small amount of triumph. He looks up at her, gaze catching and pinning on hers even as he grins toothily. She smiles back, amused and affectionate and something in his gaze flickers at the sight, grin softening into one that feels a little more personal, a little more intimate, and making her abruptly hyperaware of her hand still caught in his, the warm sweep of his thumb that she can feel through the thick bandage, and the way they're both leaning forward into the shared space between them.

"Am I all better then?" And god she's flirting. Gaze steady and heart pounding in her chest as she feels her entire body practically vibrate with suppressed tension. Because they haven't talked about this. Not really, not yet. Not after Kate asked for space and something akin to normalcy in their vampire filled lives.

"You're getting there," he replies, suddenly teasing and half-serious, moment broken as he drops his gaze once more. "Just don't be starting anymore cage matches, Ali."

"Seth," she protests with a sigh, trying to roll her eyes because this is what they do, the back and forth banter they've built between them all those months ago in Mexico. She leans back as the sharp bite of disappointment nips at her, trying to school her features so it doesn't show.

He seems to jerk slightly, a whole body twitch before he lurches forward and catches her. One hand jumping from holding hers to bumping along her jaw, tangling fingers in her hair and pulling her sharply forward. Her protests die as he seals his lips over hers, stealing the words before they form even as something soft and low escapes the back of her throat.

She tilts her head, pressing her cheek into his palm and he steadies his other hand on the arm of her chair, using it to press himself towards her before slipping it around her waist as she nips lightly at his bottom lip. He tugs her forward almost harshly, sliding her to the end of her chair until her chest is pressed firmly against his. She reaches up, fingers already curling to snag at his shirt.

She pulls back with a sudden hiss as her right hand sharply protests it's new position, Seth's fingers catching slightly in her hair at the move even as he freezes.

"Yeah," he says slowly, and Kate looks at him, sees the wet shine on his lips and the way he's practically out of his seat he's so close and feels kind of fiercely pleased that she managed to do that. "Probably need to get some ice on that first."

She nods, blinking back the lingering bit of tears the move had brought to her eyes even as she kind of wants to tug him down and kiss him again. Slip her tongue into his mouth and see how he tastes, and get to feel the scrap of his stubble against her skin properly.

"Hey," he says as he touches her chin, thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he tilts her head up to look at him. "You good?"

She starts to smile, barely getting out a nod before he swoops down and kisses her again, quick and hard and fleeting before he pulls away and pushes himself to standing.

"I'm gonna get some ice. Pop a couple Tylenol and I'll be back in a moment. And don't-"

"-answer the door for anyone," she cuts in with an affectionate shake of her head. Paranoid grump. "I got it."

"Smartass," he mutters, grabbing his gun and the room key, tucking it into the back of his pants and the other into his pocket.

She gives him her most faux innocent smile, secrets and mischief bleeding through the edges. He seems to pause, watching her with dark eyes for a long moment before he shakes his head and curses under his breath.

He practically slams the door behind him, much to Kate's delight.

Hope you liked! I couldn't get the thought of Kate punching someone out of my head, even though Seth's the obvious choice there with that temper of his. I had fun writing this! It's a little rough, but overall I like it. :)

#it ends kind of abruptly #but my brain just kept going and then sort of went Done Now #and i didnt feel like wrestling with it #SethKate #fdtd #my writing

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ladyherenya · 4 years

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Books read in April

I probably spent more time reading but I also read a handful of novellas and a couple of children’s novels, which means I read more books than usual.

Many of these were, if not outright retellings, than heading close to that sort of territory: faeries and fairytales, Sherlock Holmes, Jane Austen, and Norse gods...

Favourite cover: Masque, maybe.

Reread: Nothing, too busy reading new things...

Still reading: Cinder by Marissa Meyer.

Next up: There’s a new Murderbot novel out in early May!!!

(Longer reviews and ratings are on LibraryThing and Dreamwidth.)

The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams (narrated by the author): Adams’ descriptions are clever and unexpected, and he strings together a series of events even more bizarre and unexpected than his descriptions. Sometimes I felt exhausted on behalf of his poor protagonists, bounced from one mishap to another, but I was impressed by Adams’ ability to turn this madness into such a coherent story.

Flamebringer by Elle Katharine White: A solid, tense conclusion to Heartstone and Dragonshadow. However, I suspect it would have made more of an impact had I read the first two books recently. It assumes that the reader remembers more worldbuilding details -- about history and family connections and magical folk -- than I did. And because I found such details confusing, I didn’t pay close attention to some of the history and politics revealed in this book, and those things turned out to be unexpectedly important. A trilogy in much need of a glossary.

Hamster Princess: Harriet the Invincible by Ursula Vernon (aka T. Kingfisher): A very amusing take on ‘Sleeping Beauty’. Upon learning of her curse, Harriet accurately concludes that she must be invincible until it strikes -- and when the time arrives, she’s determined to avoid falling into an enchanted sleep. This is heavily-illustrated. The pictures are great, but were often awkwardly displayed in the Libby e-book.

The Art of Theft by Sherry Thomas: More of a heist story than a murder mystery, which may explain why I found it less compelling than The Hollow of Fear, although admittedly, it has its suspenseful sequences. Thomas does some interesting things in expanding her portrayal of the era as well as Mrs Watson’s story, taking Charlotte Holmes and her trusted associates to France on a mission along with someone from Mrs Watson’s past. I liked that Livia gets to play a more active role in those adventures. But I expected to like this more.

Love Lettering by Kate Clayborn: Meg is desperate for inspiration and company. She comes up with a project, looking for hand-lettered signs around New York, and invites along a former client -- who has turned up to question Meg about the hidden message in the wedding program she designed for him and his ex. A story about signs, secrets and the importance of having difficult conversations. I liked how those themes are explored in different areas of Meg’s life: making an effort to get to know Reid, setting boundaries with a new client, and trying to stop her best friend from drifting away.

Once Upon a Marigold by Jean Ferris (narrated by Carrington MacDuffie): Christian was brought up in a cave by Edric the troll, who discovered Chris hiding in the forest. Now Chris is in love with the princess Marigold, with whom he has exchanged letters carried by pigeon but has never met. If I had discovered this in 2002 when it was first published, I suspect I’d have been delighted by its gentle, whimsical, almost-fairytale-ness. These days I tend to want more complexity and more emotion and, often, more critical engagement with the genre’s tropes. But this was still pleasant company while I did a few hours of housework.

The Shards of a Broken Sword novella trilogy by W.R. Gingell:

Twelve Days of Faery: King Markon’s son appears to be afflicted by a strange curse, because accidents and misadventure befalls any girl the prince flirts with. When an enchantress offers to deal with the curse in exchange for the expected reward of the prince’s hand in marriage, Markon gets swept up in her investigation. This is so much fun. I liked the way it focuses on a middle-aged father, rather than any of the more usual candidates for this sort of story, like his son or any of the young women affected by the curse. And I enjoyed Althea’s confidence and practical competence.

Fire in the Blood: Another story interested in twisting fairytale tropes. A prince sets out to rescue a princess from a tower, but neither of them are the protagonist -- that’s Rafiq, the prince’s enslaved dragon, forced into human-form. Rafiq has been dragged along on this quest and quietly hopes that his vicious master will fail to unravel the tower keep’s protections. I enjoyed this. The tower keep, with its magical puzzles, was an intriguing setting, and it was rather satisfying to see Rafiq and the princess’s serving girl subtly undermine the prince’s efforts without drawing his ire.

The First Chill of Autumn: The first two standalone and take place over a few days. This does not. It begins with Princess Dion’s childhood. At seventeen, Dion is sent on a tour of her country and discovers the truth about the Fae’s influence. She ends up joining forces with characters from the previous books. I liked each of these sections. However, this could easily have been expanded into something novel-length and been stronger for it. If more time had been given to Dion’s relationships -- with her sister, Barric and Padraig, and maybe her parents -- the ending would have made more of an emotional impact.

“A Tale of Carmine and Fancy”: This short story takes place during The First Chill of Autumn. I didn’t care about Carmine one way or another when he turned up in the trilogy, so I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this.

A Posse of Princesses by Sherwood Smith (narrated by Emma Galvin): Sixteen year old Rhis is one of many princesses invited to attend festivities held in honour of a crown prince. My first impression -- a nice-but-unremarkable story with an irritating audiobook narrator -- quickly changed. I got used to the narrator’s voice. I really appreciate Smith’s portrayal of social interactions and of group dynamics from the perspective of someone who is trying to understand why others are competing for attention. And once the plot took off, I was hooked. I have mixed feelings about the very end but that didn’t change how much I liked the rest of the story.

The Two Monarchies sequence by W.R. Gingell:

Clockwork Magician: Several years after Blackfoot, Peter starts at university. Because Peter ends up messing around with time-travel, there are scenes from his future in the previous books. It’s interesting getting those moments from Peter’s perspective and fitting the puzzle pieces of his story together. I also felt invested in Peter’s journey even though he spends a lot of time being arrogant and oblivious, because I knew that there must be a significant change up ahead. The way his dawning realisation is handled was unexpectedly satisfying. I also enjoyed seeing more of Poly and Luck, and getting to know Glenna.

Masque: A murder mystery which turns into a Beauty and the Beast retelling. Lady Isabella Farrah is determined to investigate after a friend is killed at the Ambassador’s Grand Ball, even if doing so annoys the official investigator, the masked Lord Pecus. Isabella is excellent company. She’s quick-witted, resourceful and uncowed. I really enjoyed watching her banter and meddle. The Beauty and the Beast elements are cleverly woven into the story, and even without the murder investigation, there’s enough to make it a unique take on an old tale. A delightful standalone companion to this series.

Frankly in Love by David Yoon: Frank Li has watched his parents react to his older sister’s choices and he knows they will never accept him dating anyone who isn’t Korean. So he and a family friend, Joy Song, pretend to date. Fake-dating is one of my most favourite romance tropes but I’m not a fan when it’s a cover for actually dating someone else -- I don’t like others getting hurt by the deception. Despite that, I found this YA novel engaging and unexpectedly moving. And an absolutely fascinating look at being the child of immigrants.

The Night Country by Melissa Albert: The Hazel Wood was excellent, sharp and compelling, but I didn’t enjoy the sequel much at all. In the first book there’s a much stronger thread of hope running through the darkness.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: The letters exchanged between Red and Blue, two agents on opposing sides of a time war, are vibrant and memorable, playful and poignant. I particularly enjoyed their different names for each other. (“Dearest Blue-da-ba-dee”, “My Dear Mood Indigo”, “Dearest 0000FF” -- that one made me laugh, “Dear Red Sky at Morning”...) The scenes in between leave many questions unanswered about the war being fought. I couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that if I actually understood what was going on, I wouldn’t like the characters. Nevertheless the letters are brilliant, and I can deal with uncertainty for the space of a novella.

A Dead Djinn in Cairo by P. Djèlí Clark (narrated by Suehyla El-Attar): This novelette is too brief to involve what I enjoy most about murder mysteries, like carefully prying into people’s motives or characters forming supportive relationships in the face of an atmosphere of suspicion and unease. It is possible I’d like this worldbuilding in a different story, and that I would care more about Special Investigator Fatma el-Sha'arawi if I spent more time with her.

The Jane Austen Project by Kathleen A. Flynn: Rachel and Liam, a doctor and an actor-turned-academic, are sent back to 1815 to befriend Jane Austen and uncover an unpublished novel. Time travel allows for portraying Austen’s world with historical accuracy from the perspective of a woman with contemporary attitudes, and creates interesting challenges and anxieties. There’s a high degree of wish fulfilment in meeting Austen, but also realistic complications and consequences. This book impressed me even though -- or perhaps because -- it wasn’t always comfortable or to my taste. I’d have adored it, had things been slightly different, yet it’s nevertheless gripping and thought-provoking storytelling. I respect that.

#Herenya reviews books #W.R. Gingell #Ursula Vernon #Sherwood Smith #Kate Clayborn #Elle Katharine White #Sherry Thomas #Douglas Adams #Jean Ferris #David Yoon #Melissa Albert #Amal El Mohtar #Max Gladstone #P. Djèlí Clark #Kathleen A. Flynn

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