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thessalian · 1 year

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OC Interview

Honestly, anyone who wants to do this, but tradition dictates that I tag @hyperewok1 specifically. And we’re gonna go with Alisaie for this one.

name ➔ Alisaie. Last name is Featherwind, these days.

are you single ➔ So, so very much, very happily not single.

are you happy ➔ Overall, most of the time, sure!

are you angry ➔ Given the wyvern-shit we’re having to deal with at the moment, and what it’s done to good people? That too, yeah.

are your parents still married ➔ That’s ... a philosophical point, I think. I mean, there’s that whole thing about “‘til death us do part” in some vows but death only parted them for about forty-five seconds as far as I know, so ... maybe? I'd say I’ll ask them if I ever end up in hell, but I’ll probably just end up trying to kill them harder.

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ Belarys, in a ratty-ass house on what some pun-criminal once called ‘the high street’ because a lot of drugs get sold there and the pun just kept going for eighty-some years and counting now.

hair colour ➔ I want to say ‘blonde’? But honestly, as pretentious as it sounds, ‘white gold’ is closer.

eye colour ➔ Blue

birthday ➔ Ah. That. Yeaaaaaaaah, my parents didn’t really do that. The People tagged it ‘somewhere in early spring’ but I don’t think ‘when the first new frost onion shoots start sprouting’ is specific enough for this.

mood ➔ What, right now? Bewildered as to why you’re asking me about my mood right now. Or did you mean a general mood sort of deal? Because that changes depending on circumstance and circumstance right now is “Oh, fuck, these questions should be easy but I guess not”. I guess that’s a mood.

gender ➔ Female

summer or winter ➔ Either works, for various reasons, but my wife’s not much for snow no matter how much I love it, so I’ll go with summer for her.

morning or afternoon ➔ Once again, I’ll take either, but my wife isn’t the fondest of early mornings, so I get my best Ree-time in the afternoon.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ Have you met my wife? How could I not be in love with that?

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ Eeeeeeh ... Lust at first sight, love at first encounter. Real love - friend, lover, whatever - comes from who they are, and most people don’t show the whole of themselves in their physicality.

who ended your last relationship ➔ I didn’t really have relationships before Ree. The People’s packs don’t usually work that way; think “extended polycule” rather than just “a bunch of people hunting together”. So I guess you could say ‘fate’, because I got told by our soothsayers to ‘seek the sun’ and left the pack to do so.

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ I mean, maybe? No one’s said if I did, anyway. Well, Legolas, probably, but he’s a dire moose, and his heart mended real fast when I came back for him.

are you afraid of commitments ➔ I was the one who proposed, so no.

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ If I haven’t hugged or at least just half-hugged someone over the course of a day, something is wrong. So definitely yes.

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Did ... you miss the ‘secret’ part of that? If I have, they’re really good at keeping secrets, because I don’t know about it.

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ Yeah, once. Worked out for the best, though.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ Love if I have to choose. It encompasses so many more things.

lemonade or iced tea ➔ That depends entirely on mood. Lemonade right now, but could change in the next five minutes. Also depends on how good both things are. I’d rather have great iced tea than shitty lemonade, and vice versa.

cats or dogs ➔ I mean ... right now, dire moose? But eventually dog.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ See, the clue there is in the word ‘best’. Why would I settle for regular anything when I could have the best?

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ What is it with you people and trying to make people choose between two apparently disparate things? I can have both. I will have both, depending on mood. Stronger people than you have tried to stop me, and failed miserably.

day or night ➔ ...Okay, that’s just circumstantial as fuck. For what? What would I be doing? Some activities work better at night; others work better in the daytime! This is stupid.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ Not so much sneaking out of the house (I snuck out a lot; just never got caught), but I did nearly get caught sneaking out of someone else’s house with a few random valuables once.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ Nope, and I think it’d be a little hard to now. *extends wings*

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ I don’t think so. Why would wanting something hurt?

wanted to disappear ➔ *loooooooooong thinking* Right. After careful consideration ... what the hell are you smoking? Of course not! I like me.

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ Smile. Okay, mostly because that encompasses the eyes as well as the mouth. I am allowed to cheat.

shorter or taller ➔ I like the little dark butch ones. See also: my wife.

intelligence or attractive ➔ Those two words are so fucking vague. Like, there are different kinds of intelligence, and different ways of being attractive. So ... neither; my preference is heart.

hook-up or relationship ➔ Used to be the former, kind of, but ... you know, the fact that I’m married now might give you a clue as to my current preference.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ My parents were criminals. My father threw me off an airship tower (and if I wasn’t what I am, I would have been dead a long time ago). Both of them went and joined an apocalypse cult and tried to corrupt an entire city. I beheaded my father; my mother banished me to a weird-ass demiplane briefly, and all I could say to the dragonborn who cracked her skull (once I got back, obviously) was “thanks”. So ... I would say ... not really?

would you say you have had a “messed up life” ➔ It had some messed-up bits early on, but mostly it was fine.

have you ever run away from home ➔ Not exactly; probably would have if I hadn’t been very forcibly disowned first.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ Again. AIRSHIP TOWER. THROWN OFF OF. I think that qualifies.

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ Why would I be friends with them if I hated them? What kind of societal norms are we dealing with here? My friends might get a little annoying sometimes, but I love them anyway. Not in spite of; almost because of.

do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ The things they’ve done for me, sacrificed for me, and got past to have me in their lives? I could not ask for better friends, and wouldn’t dare try.

who is your best friend ➔ Now, generally speaking I would not play favourites with my friends; they are all unique and precious and can’t be quantified enough for that. However, I hold the belief that if your pair-bond is not your best friend, you are doing something wrong. So that makes it easy - my best friend is my wife.

#Alisaie #Thess RPs #Thess vs Memes #PROMPTS FOR THE PROMPT GOD

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nolantalks · 6 months

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Isn’t it just a scare tactic to threaten legal action online?

It depends where you live. Many places around the world of these things called laws and sometimes they do adapt with the times. My state for example has anti bullying, harassment, and stalking cyber laws. It also has servers for tumblr. Why is that important? Because a great deal of these laws base jurisdiction not on where either the victim or perpetrator are but where the servers for the site are. Now they do take more time to process especially if the other party isn’t in the US and all that is needed to get the IP, subpoena websites for information like registered emails then get the personal info or even access to said email accounts etc etc. criminal and civil suits are different but these laws still allow for lawsuits. This is why I allow people to lie and tell their nonsense since I’ll just collect it and since my job deals in web design and coding and my small business uses these to help the RPCs I’m in I can also sue for damages it just takes a lot of evidence and proof of the damage. It’s costly and while I don’t have FU money, I have more than enough hold out til winning a case and have these people pay me and the fees. A certain someone knew this and that is likely a reason why they deleted or at least privated everything they ever posted about me.

What’s your opinion on those without evidence?

They are liars. I’ve seen the ‘maybe they just didn’t save/keep anything’ talk. Now that’s possible but not likely given how obsessed these people are with me. I’ve admittedly lost evidence with time and things simply breaking along with have had 5 PCs and like3 laptops not to mention all my moving in the last 8 years. But I still have a lot. This is the day and age where it’s almost impossible to NOT find something at all. In fact, you normally find one thing that takes you to another which takes you to another and so on and so forth. That’s how I get a lot of my stuff if I didn’t remember screenshot or log it myself. There are so many stories and tall tales of me that I don’t even know about. And you’re trying to tell me that not a single thing outside the three groups I bring up can be found when blogs and tags are scrolled through? That’s a little too far fetched even for me to believe. I got it, blogs are sometimes deleted to at random but you search the tags they used to post things like acceptances and follows and still nothing? Is it because there is nothing?

There are also those that lie to themselves so much and for so long they believe the lie and ultimately believe it to be reality.

My drama with WOTNA is an example of this. Even though I and the people there (save one) are on good terms again, admin M lied so long and so…. hard to herself she fully believes G was constantly telling her I was harassing and bullying him. Even though G repeatedly says to everyone that he never said anything like that. Lianne likewise is dead set that the hate anons she got were sent by me simply because she told herself they were and ‘during the time she got them’ my drama with G was going on, in her memory. She completely ignores that Sam admitted to it and that during the time they were sent according to the time stamps on them, I wasn’t in the group anymore for months and in fact was in the hospital. But she fully believes it and that’s the story she tells herself and others and why she continues to hate me to this day.

Can you link us to your groups?

No for obvious reasons. Don’t want anyone on them harassed and while I do get the random troll, they are pretty much drama free safe havens. Having said that, many of you have found them already as I wasn’t shy about advertising like crazy recently on specific discord servers.

#rpt

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

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volunteering at its finest : s.r

spencer ‘volunteers’ to babysit henry whilst you and the girls have a needed girls night, except the night lasts a lot longer than any of you anticipated (2.2k)

* also i have an etsy shop where i sell some criminal minds tote bags and prints. if you wanna check it out i’ll leave the link here (i’ve also got a labour day sale happening rn til the 8th!) *

“Please do not tell me you’ve forgotten about girls night that I’ve had in my calendar for the last five weeks?” Penelope focuses on JJ through the monitor who slowly lowers her phone before glancing over to you.

“I, I didn’t forget,” JJ starts, causing both you and Emily to hold your laughs as she tries to ease her way out.

“You don’t sound so sure, J.” You comment, quickly feeling a rolled-up newspaper swatting your arm as you head towards the jet.

“It’s not that I forgot, it’s just the first time Will has been away in months and it just slipped my mind.” JJ tries to reason as you board the jet before you sit down opposite her and Emily, awaiting the wrath of Penelope Garcia once you return to base.

“What slipped your mind?” Spencer pitches in as he sits down beside you, a bright smile crossing his lips as you lean against him. “Hey,” He mutters to you, and JJ glances to Emily, still shocked that the pair of you owned up to your feelings six months ago after pining over one another for two years.

Patting Spencer’s arm lightly, you shrug it off. “Just girls night tonight.” You begin to explain, noticing Spencer furrowing his eyebrows together. “What?”

“I thought we were going to watch the Doctor Who marathon tonight?” He questions quietly, watching as a look of guilt consumes your expression.

“That was this today?” You weakly ask back as Spencer simply nods. “Oh, Spence,” You mutter, but Emily kindly butts in to save your ass once again.

“What if you watched it at JJ’s,” Emily begins, and you focus on her with a raised brow. “babysitting Henry?”

JJ scoffs lightly. “Spence, you’ve never babysat on your own before.” She looks over to the Godfather of her son, one of her best friends who could talk his way out of most things, but babysitting is another level.

“What? I could easily do it.” Spencer states proudly, forcing himself to sit taller in his seat as Rossi glances over, lowering the case file from his view. “I’ve watched Home Alone with Y/n, I know exactly what not to do. And I’ve read sixteen books on parenting.” He quickly adds, and Emily quips an eyebrow to you.

“I didn’t know that.” You mutter under your breath, just as JJ laughs playfully at Spencer’s antics.

“Just let the kid babysit, he clearly wants to.” Rossi pitches in, and Spencer smiles brightly at Rossi’s reassurance.

“Think of girls night.” Emily chuckles, and JJ looks over to you with concern before focusing back to Spencer, nodding to the proposition. “It’ll only be a couple of hours.” Emily quickly adds, and Spencer grins brightly.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Spencer nudges your side as JJ shakes her head, wondering what she’s about to let lose.

***

“I still can’t get over the fact Spence offered,” Penelope states as she brings over your drinks to the table, placing them down as you eye Emily who shrugs her shoulders.

“Spencer is a good guy like that,” Emily snickers, and you nudge her playfully before sipping your drink.

As you swallow, you can’t help but cough and widen your eyes to Penelope who happily downs her cocktail. “Shit, Pen, what is in this? Battery acid?” You remark, sniffing it as JJ sips hers, quickly having the same reaction.

“No,” Penelope shakes her head as a scoff leaves her lips. “but it is called ‘Poison Ivy.’”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as Emily downs the last of her previous drink, slamming the glass down before heading back to the bar. “Anyone want another one? I saw there’s a deal on certain drinks.” Emily calls out, not giving any of you a chance to answer before she disappears to the bar.

“God, if Spencer was here he’d happily list off some facts about the DC character Poison Ivy.” You sigh, wondering how he’s managing with little Henry.

“I’m sure he’s doing fine, Y/n.” Penelope reaches out, and you nod. “How’re you holding up Jayj?”

Turning your head, you see JJ finishing off the remainder of your drink as she places it next to her empty glass.

“What?” JJ slurs, lifting her head up as her eyes cloud over.

“Yeah, I think JJ has past worried and is in denial.” You mutter to Penelope who wisely nods in agreement.

Emily quickly returns with more drinks which JJ gladly accepts. “So, Y/n,” Emily rests her elbows on the table, focusing directly on you as you swallow the lump in your throat. “when are you going to tell us about the good Doctor huh?” She jokes and you laugh lightly, taking one of the four shots.

Placing the empty shot glass down, you wince as the burn descends down your throat. “Maybe after four more of these,” You cough, and Emily signals to the bartender to bring a few more rounds.

“Come on, we gotta get into the taxi,” Penelope tries her best to take charge as you help JJ to her feet along with Emily who is as much help as Spencer with his gun.

“Pen, can you take Emily? I’ll help JJ.” Despite still being drunk, you can focus on Penelope long enough to see only two of her as she nods and a blur of colour crosses your vision.

JJ’s head hits your shoulder, and you hear her hum. “Y/n?” JJ slurs and you hold her head up as you reach the exit to the bar, seeing the taxi feet away.

“It’s okay, J, the taxi isn’t far.” You rub her arm as she shakes her head and quickly darts out of your arms and hauls her body against a wall as she vomits violently.

“God, least I’m not that bad.” Emily laughs, unaware of who is being sick until JJ lifts herself back up, swaying back into your direction as she wipes her face. “Oh, hey JJ.” Emily waves as JJ groans loudly before climbing into the taxi after you.

“Where to ladies?” The driver speaks up as the doors are finally closed, and Penelope fastens her seatbelt in beside the driver.

You completely zone out as Penelope gives the driver her address, and miss the ringing of your phone. Little do you know, that missed call would become the first of many throughout the rest of the night - not that you’d know until sunrise.

“Thank you, Craig!” Penelope waves the driver off as you laugh hysterically with Emily about something Spencer once did during a date he organised.

“He just, he was so sweet, but got it so wrong,” You wipe your eyes as tears fall whilst Penelope helps JJ up the stairs as you and Emily trail behind. “I just didn’t have the heart to tell him I had no interest in seeing Twilight, only Robert Pattinson.” You sigh, remembering how excited he was to take you to the cinema to see something not only in English but current.

“Spencer means well, I think his big ol’ brain gets in the way sometimes.” Emily comments as you reach Penelope’s apartment, barely having the chance to take it all in before you’re given a wine glass that’s being filled.

“Oh, Pen I can’t.” You whine, feeling a headache already in the works, but Penelope Garcia is not one to take no for an answer- especially on girls night.

“Let me ask you, ladies,” Penelope starts, and now you wish you just kept quiet. “when was our last girls night?”

Penelope watches as you all exchange glances, no one knowing the answer. “Like, a year ago?” Emily guesses, receiving a quick scoff from Penelope.

“Two and a half years ago.” Penelope states. “We’ve had team nights out, but not a girls night.” She adds as Emily collapses onto the sofa whilst maintaining a full glass of wine. “So, I’m making up for lost time,” Penelope lifts her glass up as she looks around at the three of you, just about hanging in there. “to the ladies of the BAU.”

With a cheer, your night carries on with more laughter and embarrassing memories whilst Spencer is having less of an enjoyable evening with his godson.

“Y/n, this is the tenth message I’ve left you after leaving fifteen to JJ, five to Emily and twenty-six to Garcia. You better not have died on me as I’ve rung every hospital in the district and have had Kevin hack Garcia’s phone to find her location.” Spencer sighs as he paces around the living room whilst Henry remains sound asleep in his bed.

Part of Spencer knows he’s being irrational, but it isn’t like you to not even answer a text let alone a phone call. He’s so used to you being on hand whenever- especially with the line of work you both do. So when you don’t answer, he can’t help but allow his mind to spiral into the dark depths of misfortune.

Glancing out of the window, Spencer could tell without looking at a clock it was almost sunrise. Approximately 5:37 in the morning and you along with the others were nowhere to be seen.

With a small sigh, Spencer dials your number once more, only to hear movement outside of JJ’s house and he tenses.

Reaching over into his satchel, Spencer grabs his gun as he hides by the living room door, hearing movement of the front door opening as hushed voices sound throughout the hallway.

“God, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?” You wince at the thought of Spencer scolding you for not getting back to him after you reviewed the dozens of messages and voicemails when you woke up twenty minutes ago.

JJ wraps her arms around you, bringing you into a hug but also to stabilise herself to stop the room spinning. “Spencer couldn’t possibly hate you, Y/n.” She assures you, seeing Spencer peer his head out from the corner of the living room and lower his gun. “That boy loves you more than you realise.”

Pulling away from JJ’s embrace, you sigh deeply into your hands. “I love him J, I just worry sometimes.” You mutter, unaware of Spencer standing behind you as his heart sinks.

“You should tell him, Y/n.” JJ motions and you tense up, silently swearing before you turn around to face your rather tired looking boyfriend. “I’ll go check on Henry.” JJ mutters, quickly passing you both and heads up the stairs with caution.

“I could never hate you, Y/n.” Spencer starts, “I was just worried about you and your safety.” He explains as he reaches out, resting his hand on your upper arm. “Did you have fun?”

A small laugh leaves your lips as you nod. “Yeah,” You chuckle, focusing on the tired look in his hazel eyes. “I, I love you Spence.” You tell him as you fall into his arms, exhaustion beginning to take over your body as Spencer’s chuckle vibrates against your body.

“I love you too, Y/n. Come on, you need to get some sleep.” Spencer guides you to the living room and you fall down with ease onto the couch. “Did you know the human body requires at least-”

Holding a finger up to Spencer, he pauses. “Spence, as much as I adore you and your facts, they are the last thing I need right now.”

“Alright,” Spencer gives in as he pulls a blanket over you, ignoring the smudged and dried mascara beneath your eyes and the lingering smell of cocktails on your clothing. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He mutters as he wanders out to make some coffee, knowing you’d need it once you woke back up.

“This is hell.” You state as you heavily lean against the railing alongside the girls whilst voices cheer around you, including Spencer. “I blame you, Pen.”

Penelope merely groans as she pushes her sunglasses further up her face.

“A couple of hours! No big deal!” Spencer emphasises as you roll your eyes, burying your face in your hands once again as he carries on cheering for the runners as they pass you all by in a blur. “You weren’t home until sunrise!”

“Why are you yelling.” JJ comments flatly whilst Derek glances over, holding his laugh in as he keeps Jack on his shoulders.

“Make him stop.” Emily adds, and you nudge your boyfriend as he stops waving his flag frantically and focuses on you.

“Next time, I’m either joining you in babysitting or you’re joining girls night.” You tell Spencer who smiles down at you before wrapping an arm around you, holding you close as you weakly smile through the pain of your hangover.

“Deal.” Spencer leans down, kissing you softly before the cheers of your team increase as Hotch reaches the finish line. “Come on, I think breakfast is in order.” Spencer guides you away from the railing as you rely on him heavily as the girls follow behind.

“Girls night happens every two years for a reason, I take it, baby girl?” Derek jokes as Penelope shushes him as you all gather around to celebrate Hotch’s achievement and block out the blur that last night has left on your memories.

“What happens on girls night, stays on girls night.” Penelope simply states, refusing to say anymore as you walk ahead with Spencer, discussing more about his latest read, ‘Parenting 101.’

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fanficsandfluff · 3 years

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That Damned Laugh

To the anon who informed me of Rainbow Rowell's RACISM, i am writing this for my love of the characters, not the author's writing skill or fame. fuck her. i am still very much aware of what she wrote about and how she portrayed a character, but i cannot stop this inspiration when it comes to me. (wait to be clear to everyone reading this who hadn't seen the anons and my discussion, carry on wasnt the accused racist book. that was something else.)

If you, anon, end up seeing this and maybe don't like what I'm doing or whatnot, I'd love to hear from you again.

For those of you who maybe do practice Death of the Author, I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Carry On

Characters: Simon Snow, Baz Pitch

Words: 1,905

~~~~~

BAZ

Simon Snow does not laugh, full stop.

(Well, to be fair I'm not a cackler much myself, but I do at least guffaw from time to time.)

Snow spent so much of his youth being weighed down by the 'Chosen One' moniker and being tormented by yours truly. Still, I know of that little list he kept of things he liked about Watford and all its experiences and people. It seemed he did take joy in most of it all. After all, I'm sure he had fun at Bunce's house on many an occasion.

But just being around him and in this way for a while now, you start to notice. He's seen me laugh. A few times, in fact. And hard. I'm not very proud of it; what that man can do to me and make me do. He doesn't like when I cover my hand over my smile. It's habit, though, I've reminded him countless times. The fangs and all. We're working on it.

But Simon may just smile or huff. I've giggled with him on our particularly soft nights or togethertimes.

All this to say... I've found a new hobby/goal/obsession recently.

Make Simon Snow laugh.

My cheekiness all these years has kept my humor to cruel, lowbrow tones. Maybe it makes me less funny, I don't know. But once or twice I'd nail a comeback or snarky one-liner (of course with a bit of flirt thrown in) and Snow will giggle and shake his head. But that's all I've achieved! A small, pandering, boring -- though still admirably adorable -- (Damn that Snow) giggle.

I've moved on to physical humor. I tried throwing myself dramatically over him when he's in bed, but he just seems to think it's all part of my Pitch flair.

Today I made a minor breakthrough.

I was in the kitchen trying to mix myself a smoothie. Bunce has been gushing about a smoothie craze for weeks now, so I finally figured why not. The damn lid wasn't on tight enough. Not-yet-smooth smoothie shot everywhere. There was a pause as it happened, my one hand on the Liquify button, my other resting nonchalantly atop the lid that didn't do any lidding, dammit.

Snow looked up at me from his seat by the kitchen counter, eyes drawn from his phone. A beat. He barked out a laugh. A much louder one than I think I'd ever heard him make.

"Put a sock in it, Snow," I growled, to keep with my facade, though inside I was jittery with glee. I wanted to hear more.

Snow convinced me to binge a new show. Crime Minds. Something like that. No, criminal. It's Criminal Minds.

You wouldn't expect this to be a series fit enough for a cuddle, but Snow and I are an unexpected couple. So it works.

A few dumb jokes are littered throughout the show, in between corpses and the same police station set being reorganized and shot from different angles every episode. One such joke was so inconspicuous and so nothing that I cannot even recall it now. But both Snow and I chuckled at it. Then Snow made an additional comment to it, making me laugh. And soon we were both giggling together like schoolboys, like we had early on when we were maybe still a bit bashful with each other.

He shoved his face into my ribs and snorted when I whispered the new inside joke much later on in the episode. I was also grinning like a madman, but the soft tickle his action gave me didn't exactly---

Oh.

In bed. Perfect. Lovers fool around all the time in bed. Not fool around as in sex--well, no, of course sex, but I mean they also play around-- never mind.

SIMON

Baz has been acting off lately. I can't quite put my finger on what it is. He seems distracted. More like how I act. I'm always thinking of something else, not able to stay focused on one thing for long. He's like that, but trying to act like he isn't.

We're doing something odd today. We're in bed at sunset. It's hardly sunset, as a matter of fact. The sun isn't seeping orange and red into the flat yet. Penelope took us out on a hike today. It tuckered the both of us out. Baz drained a buck when we got home.

I'm laying perpendicular to Baz (or is it parallel? composite? I could never remember mathematics), my legs resting over his stomach. He's reading and I'm playing a puzzle app on my phone.

BAZ

Now's the time, Baz. Just do it, don't think.

His socked feet are right in front of me. There's only been a handful of times we've sat in this position, half of them being my lower half resting on Simon's sturdier upper half. It's now or never.

I stare at his feet for too long, zoning out and forgetting that I was left staring at them, so it definitely looked like I have a fetish for feet. Which I don't. Focus, Basilton.

I take a finger-- no, two fingers. I scratch quickly at his heel. His leg jerks, foot being pulled back.

"What?" he asks me, as if I hadn't been plotting this for weeks. As if I just did it to get his attention.

"Something on the bottom of your sock, love."

Simon went right back to his head hanging upside down off the side of the bed, phone held out in front of his eyes.

Well, that proved one thing. He's ticklish.

He places his ankles right back where they originally were, crossed, atop my stomach. I try again, this time on his arch. I apply more pressure.

"Bahaz!" Simon shakes his foot out, "Is that how you start a foot massage?"

"Would you like a foot massage?"

"No. Not if it's going to tickle like that."

My cheeks heat up. Damn that buck. I'm rosier than I usually am.

"You're ticklish?" I ask, coolly. I barely stuttered.

"I wouldn't try it," he's back to looking at his phone again, "Penny did once and I nearly broke her elbow or something. She wouldn't stop talking about it for days."

"So you're very ticklish, then."

"Don't," this is the first time Snow seems to tense up.

There's a moment of quiet between us. A tense quiet. I lunge for his ankles and he shoots up into a sitting position. I scratch at his arch with four fingers now and he screams.

"Baz!" Simon whines a bit and he somehow yanks his legs free, not without losing one of his socks in my grip.

SIMON

He's grinning at me. No. Sneering.

I still hate when he does that. Reminds me of back when I wanted to throttle him. Sometimes I still do.

"Baz," I warn. His whole posture changes into a predator's, like he's the lion and I'm his fresh zebra. The new stance sends a shiver down my spine, with his shoulders hunched and all, ready to pounce.

"Baz... Baz, Baz, Baz..." I say over and over again because he's smiling at me, and then I start to smile, too, "Bahaz!" I try once more, but his name is all that's coming out, and now I'm giggling. I'm nervous. He did this to me.

BAZ

He's already giggling and I haven't even laid a hand on him.

"Yes, Snow?" I respond to his many calls of my name before I lurch forward, sending my whole body crashing on top of his and trying to pin him. I dig my fingers into his sides and don't stop for as long as I can maintain contact through his squirming.

"Gehehet off!" he's already crumbling, words being broken up with short laughs.

I slide my fingertips to his stomach and scratch there; Snow bucks. It gets even better when my cold fingers make contact with his warm skin beneath the shirt he's wearing. He yelps like I've never heard him yelp (like he's burnt his finger, but he's also 11-years-old again), and he dissolves into loud, beautiful laughter.

"St-Stohohop! Baz! I'm going to end you!"

"Isn't that how we always said it would end? Snuffing each other out? I'm perfectly happy that it's now going to end in my favor. You should've told me you were this easy to defeat earlier on, Snow."

"Shut up!" he cackles, legs kicking wildly behind me, as my body is thrown over his torso. Now I have both my hands buried into his sides, squeezing and squeezing. I get curious, my cheeks still burning with blood, and I lean down to his neck and... (no, I don't bite) I start nibbling. Snow loses it.

His whole face scrunches up, as I watch when I pull my head back. His smile is huge and bright. And the laughs bubble up from his stomach, releasing softer into the air like he sucked a little of the joy from it before releasing to keep for himself.

"Dohon't do that!"

"I thought you love my kisses."

"Not tha-HAAT!"

He shrieks again, hands too slow to stop my face from moving in. I nibble and even lick a few times, careful not to touch him with my fangs.

Did I mention that my hands are still tickling at his sides and ribs while I'm nibbling? Oh yes, I've waited so long for this sound. I wasn't going to make it come out lightly.

I blow a raspberry and that's when Snow's laughter catches and turns all hiccuppy. The noises are infecting me, starting to make me giggle. I shift, and my face now descends towards his stomach, which is bared after I rucked the shirt up.

SIMON

"TYRANNUS BASILTON G-GRIMM FUCKING PITCH-- OR WHATEVER YOUR LONG STUPID ARSEHOLE NAME IS--"

He's laughing at me. I keep laughing even without him tickling me.

"I swehehear I'm going to fucking kill you and your whole family if you do that dohown thehere--" I'm hiccuping. Crowley, how embarrassing.

BAZ

He's got me. I can hardly breathe from laughter. I keel over into him or he into me, but soon we're a laughing pile together on top of the mussed up sheets on the bed.

I make a loud snort and that reels us both back in again, laughing til we're red in the face and til my cheeks hurt.

Simon is giggling away, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself, but he just keeps on giggling. I'm able to sit up a little more and Snow's head is in my lap. He's beaming and looking up at me through squinted, teary eyes.

"That was fun," I say, and I don't think it's the brightest or smartest thing to say. But I say it.

"I love you," Snow's smile is still wide, like he's drunk from it. There's a moment where I feel like I've died again, color drained from me.

It doesn't seem to bother him, that he's said that. For the first time. I run my fingers through his reddish curls once, letting them tangle in the locks towards the back of his head. I hunch myself down so I can kiss him.

"I've wanted to hear that for so long," I whisper.

"That I love you? You haven't figured it out by now?"

"No, you idiot," I say with nothing but fondness, brushing my nose along Simon's jaw, "Your laugh."

#carry on #carry on: the rise and fall of simon snow #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz #simon/baz #simon and baz #fanfiction #carry on fanfiction #carry on fanfic #fanfic #ticklish!simon #ticklish!simonsnow #lee!simon #ler!baz

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shadesofmauve · 2 years

Text

WIP: Alejandro Geltz is having A Year

@akuracain asked for a bit of Alejandro Geltz has a Year / Rhiannon Shepard in prep school (and I’m so happy you did).

— — —

“Your feral biotic,” the captain said, “is a problem.”

“Mine? Sir?” Alejandro’s brows drew down.

“You brought her in. Got her to sign on the dotted line.”

“Sir.” Noncommittal was always best until you had a clue what was going on.

“Did you know she was underage?”

“No, sir.” Teenagers were all starting to look younger to him. Add in poor nutrition and a layer of filth, and she could’ve been anywhere from twelve to twenty-five.

“She is sixteen, Commander. A fact we discovered after we had her fitted with an implant and in recovery. Medical chased down records with child services. Nearest we can guess, her mother worked or lived near the Abbotsford shipyards; explains the eezo exposure. Mother deceased when she was an infant. The legal hell we’ve been going through — nevermind. Post-recovery we sent her to Kitsalano prep. Boarding school. Bunch of naval officers send their kids there. Paid them her biotic signing bonus — don’t look at me like that, she agreed. Technically.” The captain gritted his teeth. “That kid hasn’t seen the inside of a school in years. Getting her through with a passing grade in a year and a half would be a tall order even if she was a halfway civilized human being and not a crazed street rat. She’s been brought back in cuffs twice, and it’s only a matter of time ‘til she figures out we tracked the inhibitor in her implant. Biotic training is out of the question; she causes too much damage already. She gets in fights — two kids with stitches in the last month. Then this morning she broke Captain Ivanovich’s son’s nose.”

The captain slammed his mug down the table. “She’s useless to us. Worse than that, she’s a liability. The school’s about to kick her out. We have got to pull some kind of half-assed success out of this mess, and you’re going to do it.”

“Sir?!” So help him, the only thing he could think of was that he was supposed to send the gap between billets with his boyfriend. He’d promised.

“I told them we’d send a ‘private tutor.’ You brought her in, you’re between assignments, and you’ve helped turn some dedicated young soldiers into better soldiers. So let’s see if you can turn a feral fucking animal into a human that has a chance of getting to bootcamp before she gets to jail. And if we’re lucky, if you’re extraordinarily good at your job, then maybe we get that biotic we need and not just a front-line private we hope we can aim at the enemy. We lost years worth of biotic recruits with the mess at BAaT. We need this one.”

Alejandro stared. He was an N5, top in his specialty, and they were sending him to tutor a kid?

But the walking disaster the Captain described didn’t fit the girl Geltz had caught in the ER. And the more he thought about that, the more interested he was in this challenge.

What if he could do more than just salvage the situation? What if he could get them more than a biotic? What if he could get them the kid who'd hauled a gunshot seven-year-old into the ER? The one who wouldn't tell them where her gang lived even when she thought she was headed for jail? Even when there was food in front of her?

That kid could lead squads. Maybe tackle the N program, if they could feed her up to fighting weight—if he could get her to enlistment without a permanent criminal record that would bar her from service.

She’s a kid. Probably just needs some discipline. What’ll it take, a month?

#Shades writes #Rhi Shepard #Alejandro Geltz #Mass Effect #prequel fic #Alex's boyfriend needs a name

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apiratewhopines · 3 years

Text

In the Offing

Summary: AU - Storybrooke - Emma Swan is drafted to help Liam Jones clear his brother’s name in the disappearance of a former flame. As she digs deeper into the rash of missing person cases, she risks losing more than just her heart as she uncovers the truth.

Chapter One - Pilot

Summary: In which our heroine embarks on an adventure

“Let the exits pass, all the tar and glass

Til the road and sky align”

-Angela, The Lumineers

If asked, Emma Swan would land firmly in the ‘It was a dark and stormy night’ camp rather than the ‘Once Upon a Time’ one.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in happiness and true love and good triumphing over evil. She did. Or at least she tried to believe in them, which was nearly the same thing.

It was just that in her experience, relationships were more likely to end in indifference and divergent roads at best or disappointment, deceit and violence at their worst. It rarely ended in laughter over the dinner table, surrounded by the people you loved and admired. In fact, it never ended that way for her. And she was fine with that. Or at least she tried to believe she was, which was not nearly the same thing.

So it was without the slightest bit of surprise that she made her way back to her office from yet another honey trap date, her third this week if anyone was keeping track. She didn’t anymore, had stopped wondering years ago how there were so many cheating spouses and deadbeat dads and none too bright criminals in one city. Nor did she have the energy to wonder why she found her doorway blocked by the broad form of her sometimes collaborator, sometimes competitor, always annoying quasi-neighbor.

“What do you want, Liam? I’m not staying. I’m only dropping off paperwork so I can go home and mourn the loss of human decency uninterrupted.”

“Perhaps a bath would be more helpful, lass. You smell like a walking distillery,” he replied, not bothered by her unfriendly tone and refusal to meet his eyes as she elbowed him out of the way and unlocked the door. “Were you drowning your sorrows or were they drowning you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I caught the guy who did this and he smells like jail now so I would say I won,” she muttered, bristling only a little bit when he followed her inside. She would like to say that she and Liam had a complicated relationship but the truth was they tolerated each other when they had to and avoided each other when they didn’t. She could count on him to be professional, which unfortunately was not a given in their line of work, and his complete disinterest in her as a person was a quality she appreciated, having never been someone who craved attention or willingly engaged in small talk.

Now that she thought about it, he was probably one of the better connections she had made in Boston. If his self-righteous, holier-than-thou attitude chafed at times...well, no one was perfect. She had met him when her boss moved their bail bonds office operations to their current location and with his private investigation business occupying the suite next door, they would throw work each other’s way when it made sense. Despite knowing him for nearly two years, she would be hard-pressed to recall a single interaction after hours or off the job so even though she was tired and her feet were killing her from running down tonight’s skip in stiletto heels, she was a little curious about why he was there. “Barry isn’t here.”

“If I was looking for Barry, this is the last place I would be.”

She snorted as she dropped off a packet of reports on the nearest desk. The truth was that her boss, who also happened to own the business, was probably cruising off the coast of Florida at that very moment and hadn’t stepped foot in the office since they moved. But she considered absenteeism a great quality in a boss so she wasn’t complaining.

Sighing, she turned around to face him. She leaned against the desk behind her and hoped he didn’t notice her flexing her feet in an attempt to keep them from cramping. “As nice as it is to catch up, I’ve had a long night. Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Henry mentioned that he was going to spend the summer with his father when he came by last week,” Liam stated as if that explained everything. Henry’s capacity to make friends never ceased to astound her and was definitely a characteristic he inherited from Neal. Even curmudgeonly Liam Jones had fallen victim to her kid’s ability to engage with anyone. Little did her visitor suspect that reminding her that she had nearly eight weeks of going home to an empty apartment was not the best way for him to start a conversation.

It had been with great trepidation that she had agreed to the trip at all. After years of fielding her son’s questions about his father, she used her considerable tracking skills to finally run her ex to ground about eighteen months ago. Enough time had passed for her to forgive him, although she doubted she would ever forget, but she felt she owed Henry the chance to at least meet his father. And of course, they had hit it off as she had both hoped for and feared.

She had worried, apparently needlessly so, that Neal would quickly lose interest in the son he hadn’t know existed and was inconveniently located in a different state. However, the man who had no issues with abandoning her a decade ago had surprised her. He called Henry every day and made the trip at least once a month to visit. He had shown up and supported Henry in ways she hadn’t expected and it reminded her that not all the times had been bad and maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a villain. When Neal had approached her about a long distance trip that spanned their son’s entire summer break, her first reaction was to forbid it but she knew Henry needed it. Although she would never admit it to Neal, she had also appreciated that he had brought it up with her first rather than sending Henry to talk her into it.

Still, it had physically hurt her to see them walking away together at the airport yesterday, similar gaits and probably with matching, wide smiles on their faces.

Now her interaction with her son would be reduced to a couple of texts a day and FaceTime calls a few times a week while Henry had the time of his life gallivanting around California with his father and future stepmother. In a flash, she went from tired and curious to tired and pissed. “Right. Glad you reminded me before I made it home and called the police about a kidnapping. Did you need something, Liam, or are you just trying to bother me?”

“Both. Obviously,” he said dryly.

“Great, he’s got jokes,” she groaned as she threw her head back in frustration. “I should warn you that I’ve already punched one jerk tonight. I’m hungry and exhausted and if you don’t get on with it, I’m not afraid to add another one to the list.”

He sighed and for the first time she noticed the tenseness in the way he was holding himself. Whatever the reason for his visit, it obviously had him wound up pretty tightly. Against her better judgement, she felt her curiosity stirring again.

“Fine, since you’re obviously not fit to be out in public,” he said with a vague gesture toward her whiskey-flavored dress, “order some delivery and let’s talk.”

—

The smell of cheese did a lot to restore her good humor. She watched him from under her lashes as he looked at the meat-lovers pizza with what approached horror in his expression. She never pegged him as a health food nut, although she could tell he took care of himself, so maybe what offended him was the grease that had soaked through the box to the papers that were stacked neatly on his desk. Tearing off a large slice, she hummed happily while she took the first scorching bite.

“I need a favor,” he stated without preamble before he too took a bite and glanced at her with a pained look in his eye.

She was pretty sure that this was the first time he had ever uttered those words in his life and that was probably the source of his discomfort rather than the molten lava cheese he just swallowed. She tried not to show any interest even though hundreds of questions wanted to escape her mouth. She wanted to ask when they started doing favors for each other and why he was acting like a caged animal. Instead, she settled for something that he would probably find a bit more in character considering their past interactions. “Would this be the type of favor that involved payment of some sort?”

“It will, if that gets the job done quicker,” Liam answered, staring intently at his half eaten slice.

“Well, that would depend on if we’re talking about an hourly rate or a flat fee,” she joked. “I have typically found that payment is the best way to insure a job gets done.”

Something was definitely bothering him and damn if that didn’t make the hair on the back of her neck stand up and chase a shiver down her spine. With a hint of disgust she threw her uneaten crust down on her plate. She already knew that whatever he was about to ask, she was going to agree to so she continued, “Might as well spit it out, I would like to go home and get some sleep sometime this century. What kind of favor do you need?

“The kind of favor that involves going away for a couple of weeks and solving a cold case.”

Of all the things she thought he was going to ask, actual work didn’t even make the top ten list so she was a little letdown. His discomfort had her prepared for anything from being a date to an ex’s wedding to a surprise twist of being asked to babysit his previously unknown kids. Even a mundane request to water his plants while he was on vacation would have been more interesting. She wasn’t entirely sure Liam was human and it would have been fascinating to see the lair he crawled back to when he wasn’t in the office.

“Why the cloak and dagger routine? You made me think something was horribly wrong,” she huffed. Picking up another slice, she thoughtfully examined his face. There was more to this request but she was afraid she was going to have to drag it out of him based on his body language. His eyes were shuttered, shoulders hunched in on himself, body twisted slightly to the side as if he had decided this was a mistake and he was on the verge of running out of the room. While she would dearly love to see Liam Jones run away from his problems like a mere mortal, she was clearly already too invested to let that happen. Quickly swiping her fingers across a napkin to rid them of the worst of the grease, she gently laid her hand on his forearm to hold him in place. “Whatever you need to say, it will go no further.”

Apparently those were the magic words to unlock whatever secret he thought he needed to keep because with a sharp intake of breath, he started his tale. “There is a town in Maine...”

—

Hours later, he was dropping her off at the entrance to her building with a promise to pick her up at six o’clock the following evening. She wasn’t crazy about starting out that late or the fact that they would hit the tail end of rush hour traffic but her mind was swimming with too many details to make her normal fuss. Honestly, she would need all the time she could get to go through the files stuffed in the briefcase he passed off to her as she emerged from the car.

Without registering the journey upstairs, she found herself opening the door to her apartment and immediately kicked off her heels with a moan while her toes curled a little to celebrate their freedom. Her dress had climbed up her thighs a bit during the car ride but she had a feeling she was the only one who noticed. She was pretty sure she could have been naked and Liam wouldn’t have paid any attention. He was just that kind of guy. Considering they were about to embark on a trip to his former hometown where they may end up having to give the impression of a relationship, she should probably be grateful that his only attraction to her seemed to be limited to her ability to find people and her reputation for being a spookily accurate human lie detector. For her part, all she wanted from him was a couple weeks of distraction from what was surely going to turn out to be a lonely summer. If she was getting paid for it, all the better.

Leaving her shoes where they fell in the entranceway, she grabbed a hair band from the narrow table that she privately thought of as their crap collector. She had never been the neatest person and she had passed that trait on to Henry so you could never predict what random stuff would be found on the table that served no other purpose than to be a catch all for the things they discarded when they arrived home.

Styling her long blonde hair into a messy bun, she pulled her ruined dress over her head and casually threw it in the direction of the laundry basket. Taking advantage of the fact that there wasn’t a ten-year-old at home that would be traumatized by her behavior, she lugged the briefcase to the kitchen island and spread the files across the countertop before walking back to her closet to slip into a pair of black yoga pants and a Red Sox tank top, not wanting to take the time to shower at the moment. Besides, she was the only one home to know how bad the smell of whiskey and sweat was after sitting for hours in a small office, stuffing her face with the unhealthiest pizza on the planet and getting drawn into the web of mystery that had made the always serious Mr. Jones even more somber.

Pouring a glass of wine, she climbed up on one of stools that formed a line that ran the length of the counter and pulled the top file to her. The photo paper-clipped to the inside showed a rundown pawn shop that might as well have had a neon sign flashing ‘Shady Place of Business.’ Below it was a list of names from various missing persons cases spanning thirty years.

Taking the first sip of wine, she murmured, “What have you gotten me into, Liam?”

She spent the next several hours combing through the files until her back hurt and her contacts felt scratchy in her eyes. It seemed like Jones Investigation had a file for everyone that lived in the town at the time of the burglary as well as newspaper clipping from the various investigations into the suspicious disappearance of citizens.

It was too much information to take in during the course of one night but Liam had been insistent that the files remain in Boston. He didn’t want to risk tipping off any suspects to the real reason for their trip should the paperwork be discovered. So, under direct orders from the former British Naval officer to memorize the facts, when she reached the end of the files, she would start over again. She sorted and resorted the files into stacks based on a variety of factors from chronological order to some distinguishing characteristic like age, proximity to crime, or possible motive.

If her attention kept wondering back to the grainy photo of one Killian Jones, brother of her dour compatriot, she blamed the wine and lack of sleep. Even the low quality of the picture couldn’t conceal that the younger Jones brother was an incredibly attractive man. However, he looked enough like Liam to make her interest unsettling and that was what finally pulled her away from her research and drove her to bed where she dreamed of blue eyes and a wicked smile.

—

For most of the trip, the only sound was of the sports commentators who nearly shouted out a play-by-play of a soccer match Liam had politely asked to listen to as they pulled out of her parking garage. The only other break in their silent commute was the subtle hum and thump of road noise occasionally making its way into the cabin. He had been unimpressed with her offer to take her car, not even bothering to acknowledge her when she suggested it and simply opening the lift gate to the large, dark colored Honda Pilot he had rented. If he noticed her surprise at finding several bags already in the truck and heard her sarcastic observation about packing light as she had to reposition some of his luggage to find a spot for her single gym sized duffel bag, he didn’t show it.

As she had predicted, they spent an hour stuck in traffic before getting beyond the city limits where the cars spread out and their follow drivers seemed to think that allowed them to indulge in NASCAR fantasies. She used the quiet to mentally go over the particulars of the case before them, secure in the knowledge that unless she magically sprouted another head Liam was unlikely to start up a conversation at this point in the trip.

Fact One: Leo and Ava Blanchard left for a date night and never returned home to their young daughter. There car was found broken down on the side of the road about a mile from their home. No sign of foul play, no trace of their whereabouts.

Fact Two: Shortly thereafter, there was a burglary at Gold’s Pawnshop on Main Street. No sign of forced entry and the owner claimed nothing had been stolen, but the alarm had been tripped from the inside. Having nothing to go on and with no stolen items to track down, the local law enforcement devoted a total of five minutes to the case. Basically as soon as the report was filed, the case was closed and life moved on.

Fact Three: Robert Nolan had a few too many at a bar one night, which apparently was a reoccurring circumstance, and never found his way back to his family. He was rumored to be involved in some illicit activities but no proof of a crime was ever found.

Fact Four: There appeared to be a bit of a lull for more than a decade and then a rapid secession of missing person reports: Regina Mills, Peter Wolfe, and finally Milah Gold.

It was the last one that seemed to drive Liam’s interest in the cases. Although he and his brother hadn’t relocated to the US until the early 2000s, it seemed his little brother quickly formed an attachment, which Emma read between the lines to mean had an affair, with the older wife of the town’s local businessman. After his wife vanished into thin air, Mr. Gold and the local police tried their best to pin her disappearance on Killian but could never come up with enough evidence to press charges.

The final piece came through sources Liam was disinclined to name. He had recently found out that a newly arrived visitor had been asking questions around town and according to his source, the visitor was a best-selling true crime author named August Booth who happened to be weeks away from publishing a tell-all book about the sordid history of the town.

Going into full protective mode, Liam had decided the best course of action was to return to the small town and solve the mystery, or potentially multiple mysteries if they were as interconnected as he thought, thereby clearing his brother’s name beyond all doubt.

If it had been anyone else who had asked for her help, she would have been flattered but she knew Liam to be practical above all else. He valued her skills but it was probably Henry’s absence that was the catalyst for this particular partnership. He needed an extra set of eyes and ears and she was a known element who was conveniently available for a long term undercover assignment. Still, he had trusted her with the family secrets, or at least his brother’s secrets, so she was trying to be mindful this wasn’t simply another case for him.

She wasn’t convinced the non-burglary and series of disappearances he seemed to think connected would turn out to be anything but she knew better than to discard possibilities this early on. She also wasn’t convinced that parading in front of his family and friends as a girlfriend was a good game plan.

“I think we need to revisit this cover story,” she said as he pulled off the highway and into the lot of a gas station.

“If you can find a more convincing reason for me to show up with a strange woman, I will gladly listen to it,” he replied before exiting the car and fading away into the dark night.

“No, I wouldn’t like anything from the store, thanks for asking,”she called out to his back, wanting to nettle him in retaliation for his rudeness although she doubted he heard her. According to the GPS, they were only about forty-five minutes from their destination, a place called Granny’s Diner. She tried to research the town, including restaurants, venues, and things to do but it was as if Storybrooke existed out of the modern age. While you could find it on maps, there wasn’t an internet presence at all. There were no tourism sites, despite the fact that most little towns that dot the Atlantic coast were in peak season for welcoming travelers. It appeared that chains and national franchises had no interest in the sleepy town either. There were no notable residents making their marks on the world at large, no complaints on business sites, no reviews of the natural beauty to be found in its forests and parks.

The sound of Liam returning to the vehicle and pumping gas broke her train of thought. Hearing the gentle chime of her phone, she took the opportunity to check her texts before they got back on the road. Smiling a little at seeing Henry’s name on her notifications, she clicked the message and was rewarded with a silly photo of him pretending to be eaten by a shark at one of the selfie stations located on a pier in whatever seaside town they were currently visiting. She text him back a thumb’s up, following it quickly with a good night and reminder that she would send him the details of where she was staying in the morning.

Running her finger gently over her son’s happy grin in the photo, she didn’t greet Liam as he climbed back into the car.

“That’s a nice picture,” he mumbled, clicking his seatbelt in place before pulling out and rejoining the dwindling line of cars heading north. “Is he having a good time?”

“Looks like it,” she answered, turning her head away somewhat embarrassed to feel the prick of tears in her eyes. She wasn’t an emotional person but she missed the kid something fierce.

Either he was being exceptionally sensitive to her distress or he didn’t notice it because they lapsed back into silence until they were about fifteen minutes from the town line. Deciding next to the last minute was as a good a time to broach the topic again as any, she picked up on her earlier comment as if it hadn’t been over half an hour ago. “Listen, I’m not saying I have a better cover but maybe we could not volunteer the girlfriend story. You know, keep our options open unless someone asks us directly. Or maybe actually tell them we are there to investigate.”

Hope for a rational debate on the merits of her suggestions was immediately crushed when he actually started to laugh. “You’ve never lived in a small town, have you?”

“No, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Emma, I left five years ago under some difficult circumstances—“

“What circumstances? How difficult?”

“That’s need to know, lass,” he interrupted in a tone that cautioned against any further questions. “If it had anything to do with our case, I would have already told you. Let me assure you that everyone will know of our arrival within minutes of the car entering town. There will be a description of you circulating before you wake up tomorrow morning. There is no way people aren’t going to ask us directly and repeatedly the nature of our visit and relationship.”

She was about to interrupt again so he held up a hand to stall her and added, “And if we decline to provide details, they will make them up. Trust me, it’s better to control the story than to have eyes following us everywhere trying figure it out for themselves. As far as openly investigating a crime, you’re daft if you think they won’t clam up the second you start asking questions. In my experience people are more comfortable being a gossip than a snitch. If we are simply a couple enjoying a trip down memory lane, we will be able to move much more freely.”

“But your brother,” she countered weakly because she had to admit he had a point. “How can you lie to him? Surely he can be trusted with the truth. Not to mention that if we are staying with him, he’s going to notice that we don’t like each other.”

“What are you talking about? I’m quite fond of you. You’re one of my best friends,” he said in indignation.

Her jaw went slack with shock as she tried to process how she had slipped into some bizarro alternate reality. What in their past could possibly have given him the idea that they were friends, besties even. “I don’t know what—“ she sputtered. “Is this some weird British thing?”

He barked out a laugh that was so unlike him that she doubled down on her alternate reality theory. “Calm down, Emma. It was a joke. We aren’t friends exactly but I don’t dislike you. It will be fine. Pretend I’m one of your fake dates for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, I’m an old-fashioned guy. Killian won’t think anything of us bunking separately.”

“There is old-fashioned and then there is being a monk, Liam. But whatever. I still think you should trust your brother. Especially since it’s his neck we’re trying to save.”

“I would trust him with my life. What I can’t trust is that he won’t go off half-cocked and muck up the investigation. He’ll understand why I did this as long as we get results.”

She believed that he believed what he was saying. She also believed he was wrong. As a person who always preferred the truth, no matter how painful, her gut told her that it would be a mistake to keep the younger Jones in the dark about the true purpose of their trip. However, besties or not, she knew the mulish tilt to Liam’s mouth indicated that for him the discussion was over.

At that moment, the high beams illuminated the Welcome to Storybrooke sign. She felt an ominous dread settle over her as they approached, turning in her seat to look at the sign as they passed.

It was the last thing she saw before the world exploded in glass shards, twisted metal, and smoke.

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heybeybey · 3 years

Note

Did I ask you the peaceful rivetra cabin one honey with a slice of nsfw ?? ( if I did already ignore this 😭)

Not yet! @himebee-5 And I'm glad you requested this! Anyway, you know how long my HC posts are so the actual cabin headcanon comes in halfway through (this is 1,454 words wtf) haha

This is 3 full cups of honey, a dash of dramatic angst in the beginning and two teaspoons of NSFW btw.

Hope you'll enjoy!!

Rivetra Cabin +++ (you’ll understand what the + is later on) Canonverse AU

Petra lived through the 57th failed expedition but both her and Levi were permanently injured. Petra came out with a spinal injury and while the doctors did say that she's going to make a partial recovery, her mobility won't be the same as before.

Levi, on the other hand, lost his left leg. Both have no choice but to retire from the Survey Corps.

I want to add a dash of drama so in this Canonverse AU, the Military Police are forcing Levi to go back to the Underground.

His temporary citizenship above ground is revoked since he's not going to be a Scout anymore and he wasn't able to fulfill the required service years needed to become a permanent resident (this is something that I just came up with lol)

Erwin tried to pull some strings but even he can't do much since the Survey Corps' reputation is tarnished at this point (same as what happened in the show). The MP tried multiple times to escort Levi out the Survey Corps HQ but Erwin and Hange always finds an excuse to delay it a bit (ex: wrapping things up regarding his dead squad, recovering for a month or two until he can be escorted back etc.)

Petra, stressed and panicking over the fact that her captain will be dragged back to the Underground, frantically begs Levi to run away with her.

Note that they don't have a relationship (yet) and Levi was surprised at her suggestion since Petra lives a decent life as a citizen born in Wall Rose.

He refuses and said that he can run away by himself if needed but Petra argues that now that he's disabled, he needs someone who will support him.

Our girl got bolder since she knows that they're not really Captain and Subordinate anymore.

She was persistent and a day before they know the MPs will come knocking again, he gives in and they made a run for it.

Erwin and Hange def. arranged a few things for them and Erwin even expedited their last salary

They jumped from one cheap apartment to another just to escape the MPs and finally found a cabin they can afford on a slightly rundown village somewhere north and towards the edge of Wall Rose

It wasn't the best village to live but definitely still better than the Underground (or in jail, in Petra's case since technically she just helped a criminal escape)

Few years passed (let's say their universe had a happy ending that Isayama won't probably give us 😭) and the MP gave up on Levi's case.

Petra and Levi live a quiet life together :3 Both of them needs some support when walking so they do have a crutch (for Levi) and a wheelchair (sometimes for Petra) on hand.

Levi used his last salary and savings to open a small tea shop in the village while they used Petra's for their monthly expenses during the first year. The tea shop eventually was able to support them once it started picking up.

Levi thought he'd hate not being able to serve in the Scouts but was surprised that he did prefer this domestic bliss instead.

He usually prepares the tea while Petra serves the customers in their tea shop.

They'd support each other in cleaning the cabin til it's spotless.

Petra buys groceries every week while Levi focuses more on cooking and laundry for the both of them.

It wasn't easy living together at first since we all know how Levi is and since they're really equals now, Petra doesn't hesitate in speaking her mind anymore. They'd sometimes clash but Levi is the one who often approaches her to apologize and make up.

They both hear news about what's happening and Erwin and Hange sometimes visit them (I want a happy ending for this so Daddy Sasageyo and Hange are both alive ok)

They didn't immediately jump one another btw. They both know that there are already feelings between them but Levi's too emotionally constipated to explore it, much less make it official.

It happened 2 years into living together. Levi was watching Petra sweep the floor and just abruptly said that they should get married.

Petra dropped the broom in shock and her face was absolutely comical. While she and Levi did have a few romantic moments here and there (small but unofficial dates, cheek and forehead kisses given subconsciously), they never talked about an actual relationship.

Levi said that they're already living together anyway and wasn't her dad upset that she's living with a man but not married to said man?

He also remembers the time when they were still in the Scouts and he and his squad were talking about what it might be like to be married since Eld just announced his engagement (rip ☹️)

His only contribution to that conversation btw is "no" when asked if he wanted to get married lol

Anyway, he remembered how Petra said that she once dreamed about getting married someday and having a happy family. However, at that time, her dream of dedicating her life to the Scouts was more important than settling down and she doesn't plan to retire for many many years.

They were both silent after that and Levi started feeling embarrassed. He tried to take it back, saying that of course, he understands that she doesn't want to since he is in his mid-30s and she'd probably find a better, able-bodied, younger man in the village instead.

Before he even finishes his apology, Petra said yes :3 (Girl has been fantasizing about this for years, of course she'll say yes haha)

They did a shotgun wedding that same evening and Levi started trying to find ways to romance her. It's all awkward at best and downright embarrassing attempts every single time but Petra wouldn't want it any other way.

Petra, being a romantic at heart, wanted a wedding dance and Levi, being a sap, gave in. They had their own wedding dance of sorts in their cabin the best they could with their conditions.

When they got the cabin, they shared one room but have separate beds. The next day after they got married, Levi found Petra pushing the bed together and she said they're married now and he usually climbs on her bed at the middle of the night whenever he has nightmares anyway.

The first ones to know about their shotgun marriage is Petra's father, Erwin and Hange. Hange dragged Erwin to their cabin the very next day after they received the letter.

Mr. Ral wasn't happy at first that Levi didn't ask for his permission (Petra scolded her father for being too old-fashioned) but he eventually told Levi that he approves as long as he's making Petra happy.

Erwin and Hange brought wedding gifts that can help them with their cabin (new cleaning materials, something for their fireplace and since Hange can be crazy, she also brought baby materials. Most are storybooks and onesies haha)

They weren’t planning on having kids but then Levi started reading the children storybooks that Hange brought and Petra noticed that he’d sometimes get this look in his face

We all know Levi would make a great father!!!!

She asked him to stop using protection one night and after three months of trying, Petra did end up pregnant :3

Now for the spicy HCs 💦

Levi wanted to make sure he does everything the right way for her so yes, they do have a wedding night. It was awkward the first time around but Levi has superb stamina 😏 so they did a few rounds and he got the hang of it the second time around.

After the third round, Petra was begging him if they can go to sleep instead. Levi teased her since she accidentally revealed that she's been fantasizing about fucking her captain for years. Now she's giving up?

Okay, that challenged her and they did one last round lol

Turns out Levi being a clean freak doesn't end with brooms, rags and mops! He's also great with aftercare.

Since Petra didn't have the energy to shower any longer (also taking into consideration her spine's condition), Levi cleaned her afterwards while she just lay there smiling stupidly in contentment.

Sometimes, aftercare ends in more sex though since Levi can't help himself and he starts teasing her again.

...Petra got dicked down on every furniture in their cabin btw. Their favorite is the wooden living room table because it’s in front of the fireplace.

#rivetra #levi x petra #petra x levi #rivapeto #levipetra #petra ral #petra rall

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vanillann · 3 years

Text

ew, it’s the government (spencer reid x reader)

hi!! after thinking about this i’ll be taking out the acab from the masterlist (nothing changing in the plot line) just so it doesn’t feel like an aesthetic!!

warning: swearing, mentions of crime and sex, enemies to lovers

word count: 1.6k

ew, it’s the government masterlist

chapter 7: in the wise words of jane austen

“You know, I wish my tax dollars went to those stupid pot holes.”

I rubbed my head from where it slammed into the roof of Agent Reid's car.

“Sorry.”

HIs voice was sincere as he quickly jumped from the driver seat once we parked and ran to my side of the car. I nodded my head, stepping out and I followed him to the trunk to grab both our bags.

I kept quiet, still shocked he was being nice considering how rude and cold I’d been, but I suppose some people were just better than me in that department. I didn’t want to but it felt like the right thing in a sense.

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, drawing me from the twilight zone I had fallen into.

“Here my key, D6. I’ll be up in a second I need to help Ms. Anderson feed her animals”

He didn’t wait a second as he dropped the keys into my hand and began walking to an apartment here on the bottom floor. I quickly caught up, running through the glass door just as they were about to close.

When I had made it in he had disappeared, I simply shrugged and made my way over to the elevator. The light elevator music calmed my nerves and I found floor D and smashed the button.

The light music that rang throughout was oddly calming considering I was in an FBI Agents apartment. The guilt slowly was slowly reaching me, as I know I haven’t been exactly the most inviting and they might be trying to help, but I couldn’t but think back to my poor sister.

The ding broke me from my daydream, shaking my head and looking ahead to the short hall. I slowly stepped from the elevator and spotted the Agent in question leaning against his door, hand in pocket as he waited.

“How did you beat me?”

“I took the stairs, much faster and safer.”

I watched him eye the elevator, the way he looked at it like one of those evil guys they catch. I was going to make a joke, but I decided maybe I should get nice for a few moments, as he hadn’t done anything to me personally I suppose.

I handed him the eye, his hands pulled themself from his pocket and let himself unlock the door. He held it open for me, which I returned with another nod and walked into the apartment.

It smells exactly like the sweater I still wore, the green walls with many bookshelves were a nice touch if I would say. I slowly made my way over to the couch, not taking a sit but setting my bag on the leather vintage material.

The clean atmosphere of the apartment was nice, and reminded me of Jerick almost and how he would come into my apartment when I was showering. I wonder how Jerick was enjoying himself with Polly Pocket. I snapped, trying to refrain from nicknames.

That when I spotted a large zombie looking head hanging from his bookshelf, smiling to myself when I slowly walked to it and pointed to it.

“What’s this?”

I turned, finding that Agent Boy, Reid, was nowhere to be seen. I frowned, letting my bottom lip lock out as I made my way around the apartment, looking from a pillow and a blanket from a nice cozy spot on the couch for tonight.

As I was looking under the old TV stand, that didn’t have a TV, may I say, I heard my name being called in a panic. As I went to stand up I felt my head slam into the top, a headache already forming as I fell back on my butt.

I heard footstep hurry to where I now sat on the ground, the mauve color converse caught my eye.

“I- are you okay?”

I nodded my head, slowly nodding as I rubbed it a few more times before looking up to him. He bent down, grabbing my face in-between his fingers. I went to pull back but he kept a firm grip on my face.

“I’m checking to see if you have a concussion,” his voice was from, causing me to stop my struggle and look into my eyes. I felt suddenly unsure, wiggling slightly as he held his finger out and slightly asked from my eyes to follow it.

“I didn’t know you were that type of Doctor.”

Shut up (Y/N).

“Huh?”

He let his finger fall, waiting for me to explain myself.

“You said you were a doctor, it was supposed to be a joke,” I casually explained, trying not to embarrass myself more the longer I spoke.

“Oh,” he slowly nodded, pulling his bottom lip in-between his teeth, sitting on the floor across from me as awkward silence filled the room.

“It was a bad joke,” I slowly stood up, feeling the pain in my head but ignoring it as I stood up.

“Uhm, where are the blankets?”

He looked up at me, slowly pushing himself from the floor as he examined me.

“Why?”

“So I can sleep on the couch tonight?”

I pointed over my shoulder in the direction of said couch.

“Oh no, you can take my room and I can make a pallet on the floor.”

While the gesture was sweet I felt like it was unfair to push someone from their own bed, especially with the way I’ve been acting.

“No i-”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you out of my sight right now, with everything I mean and it’s fine really. I’ve slept in more uncomfortable hotels.”

His eyes scanned me as he rocked on his heels, slowly waiting for me to respond.

“Okay that’s fine.”

I turned around uncomfortable with the eye contact, the anger inside of me boiling. He was nice, but the system he worked from was corrupt so unless he realized that he was just as bad as the rest.

I noticed the grocery store bag on the counter, something I had completely forgotten about. I felt bad for the way I acted but I guess my attitude had become a part of me, which didn’t excuse it but it was the truth.

“Are we still making Shepherd's Pie?”

“Oh uhm- yeah sure.”

I didn’t wait for him to get up and I made my way to the kitchen. I heard his phone ding but I ignored it as I slowly took things from the bag and placed them on the counter.

“Garcia can’t find anything about Jerick from up til a few years ago,” Agent said, coming to the opposite side of the counter to me.

“Look under Jennifer, it’s his deadname.”

Spencer said nothing as he watched me, my anger boiling waiting from him to say something.

“I’m sorry we didn’t know he was trans,” he spoke sincerely, something I was grateful for.

“I’m not Jerick so I can’t accept this apology but you have been nothing but respectful to him so I doubt he would mind.”

Spencer nodding, texting the tech girl back quickly.

“Why didn’t she ask him herself?”

“Wanted to make sure it wasn’t something we should be worried about,” he answered quickly, shoving his phone back in his pocket while placing his hand on the counter.

“Okay where is the recipe book?”

“I don’t have one,” he brushed it off, reaching over and grabbing a few of the ingredients from in front of me and placing them in the bowl. I unwrapped the crust, looking at him with bewildered eyes.

“Why not?”

“I read the recipe in a bookstore years ago,” he brushed off like it was nothing, I had forgotten he was like Jimmy Neutron or something.

He suddenly laughed, something that shocked me.

“I had a friend that made me dress up as him from Halloween,” he spoke with nostalgia, something I hadn’t seen on him before. I mean I’d only known him from maybe a day but still, it was weird to say the least.

“My sister loved that show,” I spoke softly, almost sad to even bring her up.

“You have a sister?”

“Had,” I was quick to correct him, somewhat mad but more so sad.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t ask, which I was grateful for, just putting the ingredients in the crust and putting in the oven, which was apparently already hot.

“I’m sorry I was impossible to be around,” my words had no emotion but it was enough for him as he accepted the apology and said he understood.

I put the last dish into the sink and made my way to the bedroom, the sweater he had let him borrow discarded as I now wore my own. My footsteps were light, most of the apartment dark as we both decided to head to bed quickly with a “long day ahead of us” as he said.

Dinner was awkward to say the least, barely any talking just sitting across from each other and eating. Maybe it wasn’t that awkward but without my talking I couldn’t distract my brain from the seriousness of it all.

There was a murderer out there looking for me, and I couldn’t even tell anyone why because I didn’t even know. It was only a matter of time before the kills got more personally, as they were mostly people I’d only known somewhat.

I slipped myself into the bed, careful of Reid who slept peacefully on the floor beside the bed, a gun in his hand as he “protected” me.

As soon as my back hit the soft nature of the bed all the tiredness left me, which was more annoying than the fact it was an FBI Agent's bed.

I tossed and turned because I don’t know how long before Reid started talking in his sleep.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune-”

I registered that the words were from Pride and Prejudice so I ignored the fact that he most likely wasn’t asleep and let the words bring me from this cruel world into another, only in my dreams.

criminal minds tag list:

@itsarayofsunshine @m-n-m @aquarius-pisces-rose @victomizedbyreginageorge @avaxreid @erinxneil @cclovesanime

spencer reid tag list:

@writtenbywolfie

ew, it’s the government tag list:

@thatsonezesty13 @spencerslatte @pianofirepirate @ellvswriting @peterspickledpepper @erinxneil @friendlyweirdobaby @thatsastro @acambridge @spideyparkerstark @ameliamonster @thecraziestcrayon @hurricane-abigail @linthebinbag @m-n-m @reid-lover @drreidshands @l0ve-0f-my-life @avaxreid @baby-iyania @victomizedbyreginageorge @gubler-io @duskangxl @bonitaangel @koc-help @liaabsurd @achieveonyourown @non-binary-nightmare @crimeshowtrash @libradolan @sataninsatin @martinafigoli @randogirlo-fando-main

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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konstantya · 2 years

Text

Year In Writing Review 2021

List of fics (in order of publication--there were a lot this year!):

Wherever You Are [This Gun For Hire; 1,430 words] Till You’re Walking Beside Me [TGFH; 3,020 words] Each Cloud Contains [TGFH; 1,564 words] Forward and Reverse (Part 1) [Hetalia; 7,564 words] They Say You Love and You Learn [Black Angel; 252 words] I Try To Pretend, Saying That I Don’t Mind It [Black Angel; 286 words] I’ve Much To Regret [Black Angel; 1,679 words] I’m Not Yours Anymore, You’re Mine [TGFH; 1,330 words] Now You See It, Now You Don’t [TGFH; 358 words] Catherine and the Pirate (The Reformed Criminal Remix) (Chapter 11) [2,372 words] When Nothing Daunts You [Black Angel; 318 words] While I’m In Your Spell [Black Angel; 1,469 words] ’Til Stars of Evening Cease To Burn [Black Angel; 318 words] But the Tables Have Turned [TGFH; 494 words] En Passant [The Love Pawn; 1,370 words] Zugzwang [The Love Pawn; 955 words] Checkmate [The Love Pawn; 1,207 words] Clever Crab On This Eastern Seashore [The Love Pawn; 1,521 words] En Prise [The Love Pawn; 468 words] A Thief In the Night [Her Friend, the Burglar; 1,632 words] Madwoman’s Chess [The Love Pawn; 2,163 words] Black Knights’ Tango [The Love Pawn; 1,852 words]

Total fic wordcount for 2021: Somewhere around 36,000--and again, most of that actually ended up published this year!

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? WAY more. Like, WAAAY more. This has honestly been my most prolific writing year ever (like, literally, since I started writing fic), at least in terms of what was published. Still not sure how or why that happened, but here we are? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January 2021? As I mentioned for a recent end of the year ask, I have come to expect the unexpected. Once you start writing for obscure pulp stories no one else has even heard about (let alone read), there is no being surprised ever again, lololol.

Did you take any writing risks this year? (See above for unexpected pairings, etc.) What did you learn from them? No real risks this year, and nothing learned, exactly, but I guess this year reinforced the idea that I really do not give a damn about how popular a fandom is or how liable a fic is to get me attention/feedback. Writers gonna write, yo.

Do you have any fanfic or pro-fic goals for the New Year? The usual fanfic goals of finishing a couple/few WIPs I didn’t get around to (a couple TGFH fics, and maybe poking at both Forward and Reverse and my Catherine and the Pirate rewrite). I’m also legit entertaining the possibility of some original fic (maybe not pro-fic, necessarily, but at least original fic?). It’s come up in a couple discussions over the year, and my recent spate of literature (and particularly short story) reviews has got me thinking more seriously about it. There’s also the fact that I’ve noticed myself dropping more bits of “canon context” (you might say) in my recent pulp fics, simply because I know it’s unlikely that people will be familiar with the canon (even if I link to the original story, even if I’ve done a formal review of it). So in that respect, I feel original fic is a natural direction for my writing to take, at least in terms of challenging myself. Ideas are really the thing that’s holding me back when it comes to original content--I never seem to have ideas--and I realize that that’s what I mostly use canon for when it comes to my fic writing (the canon seeds an idea, and then I’m off to the races, as it were). So maybe the thing to do is to start with some writing prompts. Anyone got any they could recommend, or else a good source for them? (I found a reddit comm, but a lot of those are almost too specific. Maybe I just need to browse until I find one I like?)

From my past year of writing, what was…

My Favorite Story: SUCH A HARD CHOICE (as I suspect many of these will be). I’m Not Yours Anymore, You’re Mine is an obvious one (because of the next answer), but I also find myself coming back to Till You’re Walking Beside Me a lot--I think because I like the slice-of-life aspect of it. (Plus, cats. Much like Raven, I am always a sucker for cats, pfft.) Honorable mention goes to They Say You Love and You Learn, though, because I am also always a sucker for ladies subtly thirsting after dudes, haha.

My Best Story: Again, a tough choice, as I feel a lot of my fics were really strong this year, but I’m ultimately going to have to go with I’m Not Yours Anymore, You’re Mine. I’d been curious about immediately-post-film Ellen for a while (well, immediately-post-film Ellen in the context of my canon-divergent AU, that is), and I’m really happy with the way it came together.

Most Popular Story: Forward and Reverse, my mythical 1848-1867!AusHun fic that I FINALLY got around to posting (the first part of) this year. Glad to see there are still fans of the pairing out there!

Story Most Underappreciated By the Universe: I’m not even going to bother with this question, because honestly everything besides Forward and Reverse could count. (I’m very pleased with and grateful for the attention all my obscure fics have gotten, though!)

Most Fun: I’m tempted to say Each Cloud Contains, not because it’s fun (or even funny) necessarily, but because I do always get a little kick out of writing from Raven’s POV. Owing to how extremely anti-social he is and how (in many cases) unusual his thought processes are, getting inside his head is often strangely amusing. Honorable mentions to just about all of my fics for The Love Pawn, though (because PAULA, GIRL), and also A Thief In the Night, because dancing and surprisingly charming (and charmed) cat burglars??? ;D

Most Surprising: Probably Forward and Reverse, simply because it had been a WIP for SO LONG that I think a part of me honestly thought I’d never get around to even finishing the first part. There was a lot of “OMG, IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING? THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING! D:” anxiety when I finally went to post it, which is unusual for me these days. I had obviously built it up in my head as something daunting and (I keep using this word in reference to it, which probably means something in and of itself) mythical. Like it would never actually exist.

Most Disappointing: Maybe Now You See It, Now You Don’t? Not because I think it’s bad or anything like that, but because it’s one of those very short, vignette-y fics (almost a drabble, really)? A little missing snapshot from the film, and not much else? En Prise might also count, simply because I’m not a big fan of the abrupt way it ends? (But again, it’s just a little ficlet, so I didn’t want to drag it out, but at the same time...hmm...)

Sexiest: Almost guaranteed Forward and Reverse, because of that complicated-as-fuck kiss at the end. Though I feel Checkmate should at least get some points for the dark sexual tension that permeates it. (I still can’t get over the way Red/Jack is canonically like, “Yeah, honey, I could have kidnapped you for sex a long time ago if I’d wanted to.” He isn’t, ultimately, a villain, but he sure does rock those Villain Vibes™ well, doesn’t he?)

Sexiest Single Moment: The previously-mentioned complicated-as-fuck kiss at the end of the first part of Forward and Reverse, probably.

Hardest to Write: I’m gonna say Forward and Reverse again. Mostly due to the psychological reasons mentioned back in “most surprising.” Most of it was, in fact, already written, but there was (again) something very daunting about filling in those last few scenes.

Easiest to Write: Any of my ficlets, really (those fics coming in at under 500 words), simply due to how short they were. Easy to write, easy to edit/tweak!

“Holy crap, that’s wrong even for you” Fic: I probably didn’t have one this year? A couple of my Black Angel fics skirted the line of infidelity (and at least one definitely crossed the emotional-infidelity line), which is usually a hard turn-off for me, but it works within the context of the canon/characters, so I can’t say I, yanno, felt ashamed writing them or anything. But maybe those are the closest I got. Unless you count my TGFH fics, where a gal literally falls in love with a former hitman who tried to murder her at one point. But again, that’s not exactly out of my personal wheelhouse, pfft.

Fic That Shifted My Own Perceptions of the Characters: Maybe Clever Crab On This Eastern Seashore, because that’s when the whole “found family” aspect of the Jack/Koti/Yugi relationship really started to solidify for me. It was also my first time getting inside Red/Jack’s head, which really helped me get a better handle on his character--the idea that he’s not a villainous guy at heart, but that the circumstances at play definitely have brought out a darker side of him.

Most Unintentionally Telling: Maybe Till You’re Walking Beside Me, because my familiarity with cats definitely comes through? XD Everything else is probably pretty equal in how telling it is.

#happy new year!#i was able to post this today after all!#this gun for hire #hetalia #aushun #forward and reverse #black angel #catherine and the pirate #catherine and the pirate (the reformed criminal remix)#the love pawn #her friend the burglar #fanfiction #writing #i made a thing #meme #year in writing review

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iatethepomegranate · 3 years

Text

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 13

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, and learns to be a person. And, amid all of that, confronts his past by helping others like him.

Content warnings: traumatised child, starvation (referenced), very brief hint of lifespan angst

Chapter summary: Caleb is good with kids. Clerics are good with Calebs.

Chapter notes: Chapter title is from An Act of Kindness by Bastille. Pardon the comma splice; it gave me a better vibe than anything else.

***

Chapter 13: Kindness is what you showed to me, it holds me 'til I ache

Much later, Caleb tucked Luc into bed. The boy had been dozing for some time now, and Caleb himself was exhausted. He and Essek retreated to the spare bedroom. The room wasn’t large, and therefore the bed took up most of the space, but it wasn’t the most cramped quarters the two of them had shared. It was warm, lived-in, and belonged to one of Caleb’s dearest friends in the world.

Caleb flung off his coat, tossing it onto the chair crammed in the corner of the bedroom. Essek hovered closer, deftly plucking the buttons of Caleb’s shirt until it opened. Essek kissed Caleb’s collarbone, and slid the shirt down his arms, tossing it onto the coat.

“Did I make you uncomfortable earlier?” Essek asked, slowly running his fingers across the reddish-brown hair on Caleb’s chest.

“No. I was surprised, is all.” And very tired, but he knew Essek was aware of that.

Essek kissed Caleb’s sternum, just below the meeting of his collar bones. “We can discuss this another time. I just want you to know I am not trying to… discard you.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

They undressed. If they had been alone, they probably would have just collapsed naked on the bed, but there was a child in the house who had no boundaries, so they drew on the last dregs of their energy to pull on nightshirts and climb under the covers.

Essek wanted to be the big spoon tonight, and Caleb indulged him. It was adorable, really, given Essek was significantly smaller than him and wound up looking like a humanoid backpack. But the soft, warm pressure of Essek’s body was soothing as always, and Caleb drifted asleep.

For a while.

Then, there was a soft tapping on the door. And then the hinges creaked. Essek was already sitting up, so Caleb lay there a moment longer.

“Luc,” said Essek. “Are you all right?”

The boy didn’t speak, but he did sniffle. Caleb dragged his pants off the chair and stepped into them. Then, even in the dark, he found Luc’s small form and knelt before him.

“What happened, liebling?”

In the light from the moon, and the permanent driftglobe in the hallway Caleb had Pumat make for the Brenattos as a housewarming gift, he could see Luc swipe tears from his cheeks. Then he held up his arms in the universal signal for carry me.

Caleb scooped Luc into his arms and stood, settling the boy’s weight on his hip. Luc buried his face in Caleb’s shirt.

“Is there anything I can do?” Essek asked, halfway out of bed.

“Nein. I’ll step into the hallway. You rest.”

Essek huffed at him, but climbed back into bed. Caleb took Luc into the hallway and shut the bedroom door. Out here, it was easier to see the tension through Luc’s tiny body. He had Caleb’s shirt tightly gripped in his fists.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Caleb asked softly. Luc nodded. “All right. Would you like to talk about it?” Luc shook his head. “All right. I will hang onto you for a while, until you can sleep again. Does that sound good?” Luc nodded.

Caleb normally tried not to dwell too much on the memories of his childhood in Blumenthal, especially when he was out of sorts, but he could recall a conversation his mother had with a woman who had asked her advice on putting her newborn to sleep. He could hear his mother’s voice, sweet and gentle towards the woman who was on the verge of exhausted tears. Una had told her to hold the baby and walk up and down the house, slowly, until he fell asleep. It was not a sure thing, but it could help.

So Caleb slowly paced up and down the hallway, rubbing Luc’s back. He swayed a little as he walked, like his mother had once done for him. Even when he was just old enough to remember. Just a little younger than Luc was now, as Caleb had started to remember things very young. Not with the same clarity as he did as an adult, but more than most children at that age.

After some time of wearing a path into the wooden floor, Luc’s grip on his shirt loosened a little. The boy settled into Caleb’s arms more comfortably.

“Uncle Caleb?” His voice was still thick with years.

“Ja, liebling?”

“Can you tell me the story of the cat prince again?”

“Ja, of course.” Caleb had the story memorised in Zemnian and Common by now. For a long time, he had only known it in Zemnian because of the nights his mother and father had read it to him, over and over. Since reading it to Jester, however, he could tell it in Common almost as well. And he had told it to Luc several times before.

He continued to slowly pace as he told the tale, quietly into Luc’s ear. Luc relaxed by inches. Yeza poked his head out of his bedroom door and watched quietly. They barely made it through the reveal of the cat in his crown of golden leaves, before Luc had relaxed fully, asleep against Caleb’s chest.

Yeza, who had been tense himself, also relaxed. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Caleb smiled at him, not daring to speak lest he wake Luc. He slowly carried the boy to bed, tucking him in with a kiss on the forehead he decided to give at the last second. He crept out, closing the door. He and Yeza leaned their ears against the wood, listening for a moment. When it seemed that Luc was properly asleep, they stepped away.

“He’s been like this a lot,” Yeza whispered. “At first, when we were in the hideout, I thought he was gonna be okay. And he was for a while, until we came back home. Veth’s been good with him, but it’s wearing on her. On both of us.”

“These things often don’t hit right away,” Caleb replied quietly.

“Yeah, Veth said that, too.” Yeza sighed. “You’re good with him. Where’d you learn that?”

Caleb shrugged. “My mother, and I remember the things Veth has done to help me. I am not a little boy, but the principles are similar.”

“We need to have you over more often.” The exhaustion was all too evident in Yeza’s voice. “Your students will be lucky to have you.”

Caleb managed a smile through his own exhaustion, and that personal brand of self-loathing that rarely went away. “We will see. Gute nacht, Yeza.”

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

They separated. Caleb went back to the guest room, where Essek was sitting cross-legged on the bed in his trance. As soon as Caleb slipped under the covers, Essek shifted.

“Is everything all right?”

“Ja, Luc’s asleep.” Caleb buried his face in the pillow with a sigh.

“You are good with children. Have you ever considered…” Essek laughed softly. “Hm. I feel that is a loaded question, given our relationship.”

Caleb put the meaning together. “Ja, I don’t know. I used to see myself raising a family when I was younger, but… things got complicated. Maybe in time. For now, let’s see how I go as a teacher.”

Essek hummed softly, and did not continue the discussion. This required both of them to be more energised. Given the difference in their lifespans, and the fact Essek was a wanted criminal and Caleb a likely target for members of the Assembly looking to cover their tracks, it would not be an easy decision. It could wait. It needed to.

Caleb reached out blindly until he found Essek’s knee. “Cuddle me.”

Essek chuckled. “All right.” He lay down, manhandling Caleb until they were both in a more comfortable position, Essek’s head tucked under Caleb’s chin.

***

The morning was warm and bright, and Essek was soft in Caleb’s arms. Back home, Caleb would have held Essek close, slowly rubbing the heat of Essek’s back through his shirt until they were both too distracted to make it to breakfast. Here, however, he had to make do with several deep, promising kisses. And Essek grazing his collarbone with his teeth, one hand between Caleb’s thighs, until they both took a deep breath and, regrettably, stopped.

Maybe they would take the tower tonight, or a room at the Chateau. Veth would Send to them if she needed help with Luc. She had begged Essek to teach her so she could keep up the ruse that Yasha could communicate with her across distances. Caleb was fairly certain Yasha was fucking with her by this point, but he always enjoyed watching Essek teach.

Regretfully, Caleb forced himself out of bed and away from Essek’s wandering hands. He was definitely grumbling under his breath as he dressed, while Essek reclined in bed and watched with warm amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Caleb muttered, stumbling into his trousers.

“Caleb Widogast.” Essek smiled sweetly. “You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

“I am pretending I didn't hear that,” Caleb said weakly. Because he was this close to jumping back into bed with this man.

Essek took pity on him and climbed out of bed to dress, though the way he pressed up against Caleb’s back to kiss his neck was pure evil. Nevertheless, the two of them managed to get dressed and out of the bedroom without further incident.

Luc seemed more like himself at breakfast, fiddling with his crossbow once again. Veth kissed Caleb on the cheek in a silent thank you for the previous night. Essek, as usual, braided Caleb’s hair after breakfast.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Veth asked, as Yeza brushed her hair and braided it as well.

“My brother,” Essek said, with a professional tone that sometimes came out when he wasn’t prepared to express a particular emotion. He tied off one braid at the side of Caleb’s head, starting on the other side. “Verin was always a handful. I learned to fix the mess he made of his hair when he was off climbing trees or chasing animals, or people. It was important we both presented ourselves well, and that included grooming.” His fingernails lightly grazed Caleb’s scalp. “Verin… well. Someone had to fix his hair, preferably before our mother found out.”

There was something a little steely in Essek’s voice. A defense mechanism probably. Essek rarely spoke of his family, especially now that he probably wouldn’t see them again. Caleb got the impression Essek wouldn’t miss most of them, but he may have been closer to Verin.

Essek finished the second braid and pulled them into a half-ponytail at the back of Caleb’s head. He sighed, and ran his fingers through the rest of Caleb’s hair far longer than strictly necessary. Caleb caught his wrist and squeezed, just for a moment.

***

After breakfast, Caleb and Essek headed to the Chateau following a message from Caduceus requesting Caleb’s presence. Essek peeled off to trade novels with Marion, leaving the three of them alone in Jester’s childhood bedroom. Here, Caduceus and Jester had set up a scrying ritual. The materials were mostly floral in nature, indicating this was for Caduceus.

Caleb caught on immediately, though he didn’t get the words out before Jester shoved him onto her bed. Then, it was irrelevant, as Caduceus had already begun the ritual to scry on Nico. Caleb appreciated they had asked him to be here for it.

Jester sat with Caleb, nuzzling his shoulder and very nearly stabbing his eye out with her horns. And, of course, squeezing him so hard he was afraid of cracking a rib. It felt good, though. The anxiety coiling in his gut struggled to keep its foothold.

He had been afraid to ask Caduceus or Jester to scry on Nico again. What if the thing he feared most had come true? Nico’s fireball had knocked Caleb out cold. That really should not have been possible, even if Caleb had the constitution of wet tissue paper. He was still much tougher than he used to be.

Unlike Caleb, Nico didn’t have clerics on hand to pull him from the jaws of death. Nico could have curled up to sleep one night, out in the cold, and not had the strength to wake up again. Even when he hadn’t been injured, Caleb had come close to freezing to death many times in the years between Vergesson and Veth. The eleven years of no magic, and his long-discarded outright fear of fire, had almost spelled his doom.

Maybe Caleb’s messages never received a reply because the recipient was no longer alive. He was not experienced with the Sending spell; maybe he was misreading the lack of response. Maybe there was a pattern in the magic that should have told him whether the message met its mark. Caleb knew he was smart. He knew he was methodical. But he was also emotional. Maybe he had missed something.

Jester squeezed him tighter. He was spiralling. He had to breathe. He had to think. Panicking was of no use. If Nico was dead, they needed to find his body. It had only been a few days, and Caleb had created a new Transmuter’s Stone--focusing on that had helped steel his nerves these past few days. And he was sure Jester and Caduceus had the right quality of diamonds. Even if Nico was dead, he could still be saved.

And if he was alive, they needed to know. They needed to keep trying to talk to him, try to get him to safety in whatever way they could. And even though Caleb had never had a proper conversation with the boy, he knew he would do anything to keep him safe. Anything.

What Nico was going through now, Caleb had suffered alone. He would never wish that on anyone.

Being held by Jester always brought up complicated feelings, but he was grateful she was there to physically hold him together. She was babbling about something, and Caleb genuinely tried to listen, but most of his focus was split between his whirling thoughts and watching Caduceus.

He did catch the end of her babble.

“And then King said, ‘Were you gonna tell me I had magic blood or was I supposed to find that out when I cut myself shaving?’” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “He found out because he cut himself shaving.”

Caduceus jolted, and then he was back with them. “Nope.”

The words fell out of Caleb’s mouth before he had fully considered them. “Can you tell the difference between resisting the scry and…” His brain caught up with his mouth, and choked him.

Caduceus stepped in before Caleb could spiral further. “Yeah, we can tell the difference. He resisted.” Caduceus began to collect the flowers, bundled herbs, ashes, and bone fragments. A piece of petrified wood Caleb had found him during their travels. A few botanical drawings made by Jester. Fresh seaweed from Fjord. He carefully scooped up each piece of the ritual and put them away.

Okay. Nico was alive. That was something. But they couldn’t see him. He could have been anywhere within a few days of Rexxentrum, and each of those places was freezing cold. Nico had fire, but did he have the capacity to use it? Had he found shelter? Water? Where the fuck was he?

And it was possible to be alive and conscious and on death’s door. He wasn’t dead. Yet. That could change at any moment. Caleb needed to know. He couldn’t take this uncertainty anymore.

“Jester.” His voice was little more than a scratchy whisper. “Please.” Talking hurt.

She gave him one last squeeze and let go. “Of course, Cayleb. I’ll try. Caduceus gave me a picture.” She slid onto the floor and began to set out little dick statues. A tiny figurine of the Traveller. A little collection of unicorn statues, many of which were new to Caleb. “Hey, Artie. We really need to see what Nico’s doing, okay?”

Caleb no longer had Truesight, but Artagan never bothered to hide his presence in Sprinkle anymore. Or when his cloak would appear and sweep over Jester. He only hid from the Nein to fuck with them these days. So, the green flash of Sprinkle’s eyes and the sweep of a green cloak were a familiar sight by now.

Caduceus took Jester’s place on the bed beside him. Neither Caduceus nor Caleb were given to filling empty space with sound unless they genuinely had something to say, so they sat quietly. Shoulders barely touching, but that was enough of an anchor for Caleb to stay calm.

Time crawled by as Jester worked through the ritual, until, finally, she looked into the distance. And she wasn’t seeing the room. Hope bloomed, sharp and painful, in Caleb’s chest.

“I see him,” she said. “It’s hard to see anything else. I think I can see green but I can’t make out shapes. Nico’s sitting on… grass, I think? There’s a campfire. Bandages. He found bandages somewhere! He looks pale, but… focused. I think? He’s bandaging his arm.”

She spent the next ten minutes describing everything Nico did. Aside from bandaging, he spent most of the time staring into the campfire. He’d found a coat somewhere, but no shoes. Shivering a bit, but nothing that would indicate a threat of hypothermia. Best she could tell, he was surviving.

Until they could get him to come back, that would have to be enough.

Once Jester had finished scrying, she squeezed onto the bed on Caleb’s other side. “Are you okay, Caleb?”

“Ja.” Knowing Nico was more or less in one piece, and did not seem to be in immediate danger, had lifted a great weight from Caleb’s ribcage. “Thank you. I was afraid to ask. Caduceus, I hate to ask that you spend another spell, but...”

Caduceus waited patiently, smiling faintly as he often did. He would say yes. Caleb knew he would.

So, despite feeling weird about asking for things like this, he did anyway. “Would you mind asking the Wildmother a few questions?”

“Give me three questions and one minute,” was all Caduceus said in response.

Caleb had spent so long worrying about this kid that coming up with three questions was easy. “First, is he in the Pearlbow Wilderness? Second, has he found clean water in the last twenty-four hours? Third, has he eaten since Rexxentrum?”

Caduceus slid to the floor once again and began setting up the ritual. “Good questions to ask, with simple answers.”

The wait was easier this time, knowing that Nico wasn’t dead, or close to it. The burning incense curled through the air, reminding Caleb fondly of his time with Frumpkin. He hoped his little friend was having a good time, wherever he was.

“Is Nicolaus Baumann in the Pearlbow Wilderness?” Caduceus asked quietly, eyes closed. Caleb could not sense the Wildmother’s response, but Caduceus nodded to himself. “Has the boy found clean drinking water in the last twenty-four hours?” A moment, and Caduceus nodded again. “Has he eaten since the meal I fed him in Rexxentrum?” This moment stretched longer, and the corner of Cad’s mouth tightened. He released the ritual, blinking his eyes clear until he could focus on them. “Nico’s in the Pearlbow Wilderness and has found clean drinking water in the last day. He has not eaten since Rexxentrum.”

Caleb swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Thank you, Caduceus.” Those words could not adequately express his gratitude; how much lighter he felt knowing that Nico was surviving. They could get him back to Rexxentrum. Caleb would keep talking to him, as would Felix. It was doable. “And, Jester. Thank you.”

The two clerics exchanged a look, laced with meaning that Caleb could not read. But he suspected they had discussed this whole thing in detail long before they had invited Caleb here. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to having friends who would literally team up to take care of him like that. It frightened him a little, but he knew the fear was irrational. They loved him as much as he loved them. Not always in the same way, especially when it came to Jester, but it was love all the same.

Then Jester’s mood shifted, and she was grinning. “Hey, Cay-leb.”

“...ja?”

“Did Essek bring his parasol?”

“Ja, of course. It’s Nicodranas.”

“Cool! I got you guys a huge beach umbrella. Meet us downstairs in an hour.” She kissed his cheek, and tore out of her room. “BEACH TRIP!!”

Caduceus chuckled softly, unfolding himself from the floor. “She has been planning this all day.”

“Ja, I figured.” Caleb had missed the beach. So different from his old life that it was easier to let go of things there. “Are you coming?”

Caduceus laughed openly at that. Of course he was coming. Nobody said no to Jester Lavorre.

This was probably the last time the two of them would be alone in a while. There were things Caleb wanted to say. Needed to.

“Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“Caleb.” Caduceus smiled, but he allowed the sadness of it to break through. “You were alone for a long time. So was I. So were… all of us. We’ve all grown together. And you… I always knew you were being shaped into something. What that something was… that was your choice. Reaching out to people who went through what you have, taking your pain and what you have learned to protect them from the worst of your experiences… that’s growth, Caleb. You’re healing. I’m proud of you. We all are.”

The words hit hard, drawing tears from the corners of Caleb’s eyes. But they were good tears. It felt like a poison was leaving his body.

“You helped,” Caleb said, standing to face Caduceus properly. “All of you. And I know I didn’t always listen to you, but I remember everything. Your words mean a lot to me. Thank you.” He felt a surge of affection and a sob escaped his throat. “Can I hug you?”

“Of course.”

It had never occurred to Caleb that firbolgs would give great hugs. They had giant heritage and were stronger than they looked. Caleb had come to prefer hugs that crushed his soul back into his body, so this was perfect. He let Caduceus squish him, tucking his face into the folds of his robe. Caduceus always smelled of herbs and earth. A grounding, calming scent to match a grounding, calming man.

Caduceus had been exactly what the Nein, and Caleb himself, had needed after they lost Molly. And he continued to fill that role, gladly, even when it caused him personal pain. Caleb loved him dearly.

They were still hugging when Jester came to grab a few things from her room, and she gladly jumped in, babbling about the beach trip and all the plans she had made for it.

Caleb breathed easier than he had in days.

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role #cr2 #i sometimes am tempted to tag other major members of the nein who are prominent in various chapters but i also don't want to annoy people #fanfiction #my fics #the pomegranate's professor widogast fic #mighty nein #ao3

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

30 minutes til midnight....

Happy Birthday Dean pt. 2

A/n: whew this one took on a life of its own for me, hope you guys enjoy it! As always all mistakes are mine! If you want to be added to my tag list just let me know! Feedback welcome!!

**Warning** Smut, unprotected sex, language, angst, mean reader, heartbroken Dean. That’s about it I think...

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually, Mentions of Sam x reader.

Word count: around 3970

Cross-posted on Wattpad.

Part 1! In case you missed it!!

You'd been sitting looking at your phone since you hung it up. Dean's deep rumble still ringing in your head. It was now a little before 1:30 am on Dean's birthday. You convinced yourself though, that it was just because you wanted to make sure the boys got home safe. Dean did say that they were only an hour out... It would only be right to wait up for them. Right?

You could almost hear your Uncle Bobby yell bullshit Y/N from the other side, and much as you didn't like to admit it, it made you smile. You missed that old man, especially on nights like this, when you stupidly let yourself get all in your feelings, and get yourself all wound up. He always seemed to know the right thing to say, just what you needed to hear to make your heart stop feeling like it weighs 200 lbs.

Still, Uncle Bobby isn't here, and you got yourself in this mess, and now you're going to have to figure out what to do about it.

You wouldn't believe how deep in denial you were in before tonight. Now though, now that it was out in the open of your attention span, it was like you just couldn't see around it to focus on anything else.

Getting up to go and make another pot of coffee, and possibly spike it because you weren't even remotely tired, you staggered into the kitchen of the bunker. It was dark, and cold, and lonely. Much like your whole life seemed to have been.

"Fitting," you thought to yourself as you put the coffee grounds into the pot and turned it on.

That had been the majority of your life, cold and lonely. The thought of what it might feel like to have Dean's arms wrapped around you, warming you in a way you'd never been warmed before slipped past your fifty-foot thick walls into your subconscious.

Thinking of Dean that way was something you had never allowed yourself to do before, but here you were, standing in the middle of a cold, dark kitchen of a decades-old building alone. Picturing yourself melting into the arms of the Adonis that was Dean Winchester. His thick strong biceps flexing as the wrap up around you. The tense of his upper arms as he pulled you impossibly gently into his tick, strong chest. Shoulders slightly hunched, holding you close.....

"Stop it Y/N!" you mentally slapped yourself hard enough to derail that train of thought before you could get carried away any further.

Pouring the hot liquid into the cup you had waiting on the counter, you watched as the steam of the warm drink drifted up into the cold room. Sitting in the coffee pot back down, completely wrapping your hands around the cup, so wrapped up in the fact that you had zero fucking clue what to do with these newly discovered feelings you had for the eldest Winchester that you didn't even realize you had an audience.

Turning around you walked face to mid-chest into Sam Winchester...

"OOOF," was all you could say at first. Trying to get your rapidly speeding heart rate to slow down. "Jesus fucking Christ Sam! Warn a girl you standing behind her!"

Sam laughed a little, sitting down his bag on the floor.

"Well we yelled when we came in like you do, but you didn't say anything. So I thought were in bed. I just walked in when you ran into me." he said, sitting down at the table and patting the seat across from him so that you would join him.

You took your seat silently, you had a feeling you knew what was coming.

"So, you wanna tell me the real reason you called my brother's phone to 'check-in' tonight instead of calling mine like you usually do? 'Cause we both know you've never even called Dean to tell him to pick up something on a supply run, you have me text him. Spill Y/N, what's wrong? Dean broke every speed law in Kansas and the surrounding states to get here because you scared the fuck out of him." Sam said, watching you like a detective looking at a criminal at the other end of a questioning stand. You seriously felt like you were on trial right now...

"Sam, it was a mistake, I dialed the wrong number, it's late and I'm tired," you said, standing up with your coffee in your hand, planning to make a quick exit before this conversation could get any more incriminating on your end.

"Bullshit Y/N. That's bullshit, and you and I both know that it is. We've been friends since you walked into our lives. You owe me the truth. That's my brother in there. My brother who you've been a total ass to since we stepped foot into your Uncle Bobbies that day all those years ago. You've made cracks at his ego, you walk around like his very presents disgust you, you kick him when he's down, or more hurtful than anything you act like he doesn't even exist." Sams's face was hard as stone, and that scared the fuck out of you, Sam had never talked to you this way.

"Sam, I don't understand what your talking about. Dean hates the very air I breathe. He doesn't care whether or not I ignore him, or whether I insulted him. I'm just another mouth to feed, just another burden he has to take on to raise. Nothing more. Hell, I'm not even considered a friend!!" you say, feeling your temper getting the best of you, and you didn't want to yell at your best friend. Sam and yourself had never gotten in a fight. You didn't want to start now.

"I know you're smarter than that Y/N, I know your not that fucking blind!" Sam whisper yelled, slamming his big hand down on the table, making you jump. In an instant, he was in your face, looming down at you over the table.

"Listen to me, and you better let this sink in because I won’t say it again, and If Dean knew I was talking about this to someone who hates him he'd be humiliated, and embarrassed beyond forgiving me. Dean walks around with this overly strong, man's man personality. Like nothing can hurt him, nothing can touch him, but he fucking hurts too! For years now you've pushed him away to the point that he walks around like he doesn't like you because he's trying to hide the fact that you're hurting his feelings. Feelings he likes to pretend he doesn't have to protect himself! Protect himself from people like you! Dean's been in love with you from the moment he met you, and you never even gave him a chance! The first thing you ever did was insult him about the shirt he was wearing being wrinkled! For the first time in his life, he started to iron his clothes before getting dressed in the morning! Then when he was standing in your way in the kitchen in Bobby’s, you accused him of being an egotistical dick, and shoved him out of your way!” Sam took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down.

“I gave you the benefit of the doubt because Dean doesn’t exactly have a great reputation with women, and I’m sure living with hunters you’ve heard the stories, so I just overlooked it, even though I’ve never liked it. Now though, when you called his phone tonight, he tried to hide it, but for a moment his face lit up. When you told him that you were just checking in and called the wrong phone, you should have seen the heartbreak. He even admitted to me that he thought you were calling to tell him happy birthday Y/N!!!!”

You sat there in stunned silence, your mouth hanging open silently. You didn’t see that coming.

You had called him to say happy birthday, and chickened out… Shit…. Your brain just couldn’t compute what it was hearing, and you just sat there staring into the angry face of Sam Winchester. Literally feeling like you’d been punched in the gut. Like the floor dropped out of your whole world.

Dean was in love with you? How did you never see it?

“S…. Sam…. I really didn’t know….. I…. I was going to wish him a happy birthday, but I chickened out,...... I thought Dean hated me… I thought he… fuck I never saw it…. I didn’t know!”

Sam raised his hand to silence you.

Well, you better figure it out, because Dean doesn’t deserve the way your treating him, and I for one am tired of watching it. So I’m only going to say this one time. Don’t fuck with my brother’s emotions, or Bobby’s niece or not you will be looking for somewhere else to live, and don’t you dare get his hopes up just because you feel sorry for him. If you start something with Dean Y/N you better mean it, because I will…..”

Balling his fist up he walks away out of the kitchen, down the hall to his room where you heard the door slam. Tears falling freely down your face.

You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you had hurt Dean, the fact that Dean had been in love with you for years, or the fact that you were in love with him, and to damn stubborn and stupid to know it.

You couldn’t leave it like this, and you couldn’t stand the thought that you had hurt Dean. So you stood up slowly, resolving in yourself that you were going to handle this like an adult. You were going to face your feelings for Dean, and if he rejects you, as he rightfully should probably. You were going to deal. ‘Cause after the way you treated Dean all these years, you deserve nothing less.

Letting your feet carry you down the hallway to Dean’s room you stood outside the door, you couldn’t hear anything, but you knew that Dean wasn’t asleep. He never went to sleep directly after a hunt. Usually, he had to drink himself there…

Raising your hand slowly you knocked lightly on the door. Your resolve already weakening. Fear gripping you whether you want to admit it or not.

You could have sworn your heart stopped beating when you heard the door open and saw Dean standing there looking at you. He looked tired, which he usually did after a hunt. His eyes traveled you up and down in disbelief you were really standing before him, and that alone stung. The fact that you had been suck an ass to him, that he was shocked you knocked on his door when you lived in the same house burned deeper than you wanted to admit to anyone. Even yourself. Especially yourself.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” he asked, not really knowing how to even talk to you, now that it was pointed out to you it was all you could see. You mentally kicked yourself in the ass for what you had done to him.

“Hey, nothing wrong, mind if I come in?” you asked, and he backed up cautiously, letting you into his space. The one room in the bunker that you had never been in before.

It was very military, very little life to it all. It was cleaner than you would have expected it to be. Weapons lining the walls. A picture of his mother and Sammy along with John from all those years ago on the nightstand, then there was another picture, one you didn’t expect to see there, and one Dean scampered to put it face down before you could see it, he was too late though…

A picture of you sat in the picture frame, one he’d obviously snuck and took when you were doing research unaware…. Fuck..

You had to bite your lips to keep the tears from falling, Dean was watching you quietly, you could see now that what you had mistaken for being a jerk, was really Dean being nervous.

How have you been so blind for so long?

“Dean,” you say, taking a tentative step forward. He took one back. Like a hurt animal, and you got to close. You took a deep breath, looking at him, trying to figure out where to go from here, what to say. Is there even a way to fix this? Have you let it go too far?

“Dean,” you try again. “Dean, can we talk? There’s something I need to say….”

Dean sat down on the foot of his bed and looked at you quietly. You knew you were going to have to choose your words wisely. If you didn’t you were going to lose him for good, you could see it now.

“Okay, shoot…” he said, looking you up and down suspiciously. Guarded. You recognized those walls because you normally wore them pretty high as well…

Making your way over to where he was sitting you sat down next to him slowly. His face was almost comical as he looked at you, sort of like his eyes were about to bulge out of his skull from the shock.

Reaching over you deliberately grabbed his hand in yours, kind of like if you had your hands on him, he couldn’t run. Stupid logic yes, but when your as scared as you were right now, you wanted comfort. His comfort, even though you didn’t deserve it.

“Dean, I’m so, so sorry,” you say quietly, looking deep into his breathtaking olive-green eyes. Eyes you felt like you were looking into for the first time. They were as deep as oceans, and you wanted more than anything to drown in them.

His plump pink lips parted slightly in shock, man you wanted to kiss those lips. Now that you have realized how bad you want this man, it’s almost a need…

“I have done nothing since the day I met you but be a total bitch to you, and it took me until tonight to admit and see it, and I’m so, so sorry. I was afraid of the way you made me feel Dean, so I was using insults and things to subconsciously push you away ...”

Reaching up you wipe a stray tear away that slipped past your defenses, you didn’t even care anymore that Dean saw it.

Dean on the other hand just sat there and watched as one by one your walls started to crumble… Walls he didn’t even realize you had. Walls that looked so familiar to himself, because he had been hiding behind the same walls.

“I know there’s really no way to apologize for years of me being a total bitch. Not really; but I wanted you to know. Tonight I didn’t call your phone by accident…”

Standing up from the bed and turning his back to you, you barely heard his voice that wasn’t even a whisper….

“Why did Sammy tell you…. He said he wouldn’t tell you…”

Feeling like you were instantly fucked and screwed this up you started to panic. So you jumped off the bed, and grabbed his arm, he turned around harshly. A single tear streaming down his perfectly chiseled, Godlike face.

“Dean, Sam has nothing to do with this, I’m glad he told me. Please just let me explain!” you half yelled at him, he stood silently, you couldn’t tell whether he was angry, or not…

Stone. The face Dean had perfected over the years of trying to protect his emotions.

“I was sitting on the bed logging onto my laptop to watch Netflix like I do every night, and I noticed the date. It was 30 minutes until midnight… In 30 more minutes, it would be your birthday, when I saw it; your face was all I could see Dean. I remember thinking ‘if he lives for 30 more minutes he will have made it 41 years.’ I started to think about how rare that was in the life that we lived in. I started to think about how just in 30 minutes I could get a phone call that a hunt had gone to shit, or how some monster had finally gotten. Then I started to think about a world that you weren’t in.. I never realized it, Dean, I swear, but at that moment I realized I didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t a part of…”

You took a step closer to him, stealing yourself for the inevitable rejection, but you just had to get this off your chest. Regardless of the consequences. This time he didn’t step back. He stood still.

“All these years I’ve been such a fucking idiot Dean, I don’t hate you, I loved you, Dean, I love you so fucking much, and I’m so afraid of it that I built up these stupid walls, and made fun of you and tried to hurt you and push you away because I am a fucking worthless coward… I’m so sorry Dean. I’ll never be able to say it enough. I know you probably don’t feel the same way, I don’t blame you if you hate me now, you have every right to, but I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you…”

You stood there in silence now with battered breath. The air between the two of you thick with tension… You couldn’t take it anymore. The silence hurt worse than the rejection you had prepared yourself for. You turned to leave.

You felt his hand reach out and grab your arm, much like you did his. Stopping you in your tracks. You turned on your heels to face your punishment. Dean could be cruel when he wanted to be, and you deserve that and more.

Instead of mean words, or hatred, you saw something you hadn’t expected. Tears. Flowing freely down his face.

“De….”

His lips landed on yours in a heavy kiss. Bruising almost. Like everything he’d pent up all these years, everything he wanted to say and couldn’t hold back anymore, because Dean was never good with words, was put into this kiss. Taking you by complete surprise.

It took you a moment, but not long to catch up, His lips were rougher than you expected but still soft. Dominating, demanding…. You felt his tongue trace over your bottom lip, asking for entrance that gladly granted him.

His tongue quickly dominated your mouth. His taste filling you, whiskey and spearmint gum, and something that was just uniquely Dean… His cologne intoxicating you. Kissing you literally drunk.

When he finally pulled away you bother were panting.

No words were spoken. You just stood there looking at each other for a moment. He said everything that needed to be said without saying a word. Dean was good at that.

Dean’s arms wrapped around yours. Strong, Powerful, everything you had imagined they would be. Pulling your body flush against his chest. His lips leaving little butterfly kisses on the corner of your mouth and down your jawline. To the spot behind your ear, you didn’t even know were there before his teeth pulled lightly against your ear lobe. A shiver ran down the course of your body.

His hands felt like they were everywhere all at once. Making their way up to your oversized shirt, grabbing your bar breast in his powerful calloused hand. Massashing it lightly. Twisting your nipple that was standing on end between his thumb and index finger. Drawing a moan out of you both.

Dean quickly started to back you both up to the bed that thankfully wasn’t that far away, letting you fall back softly when the back of your knees hit the mattress. You backed up the bed making quick work at removing your shirt, shorts and favorite underwear while you watched him rid himself of his layers quickly. His eyes ever leaving yours. Emotions so thick in his eyes that he looked like he might cry again…

Crawling over you with his perfectly sculpted body, He stopped just long enough swirl his tongue around each of your nipples. Making your arch into him. His hand tracing up your side while his other hand traced it’s way up to your thigh. Meeting your already dripping core. Your body literally aching for him. Finally letting you feel what you should have been feeling all those years. Passion burning hot as fire in your veins. Want, no need, Drawing you lips to his again as he slipped two of his thick fingers inside you, while his thumb made delicious circles over your swollen clit. His tongue finding places in your mouth you didn’t know existed.

You could feel his swollen length throbbing against your inner thigh as he rocked himself against your skin. Desperate for friction he so desperately needed.

You reached for him, but he pushed your hand away from you, his thick voice making you shiver underneath him

“Not tonight sweetheart, I can’t last if you touch me like that….”

He ran his tongue lightly over the shell of your ear again as the coil in your belly tightened to a painful point. Ready to snap as white-hot pleasure threatened to take you over.

“Dean, I’m gonna….”

You couldn’t finish as your eyes rolled, a gasp escaped you as he pick up the pace of his hand.

“I know baby, let go…”

Just like that, you fell to pieces, your body jerking underneath him as he worked you through your high. Wave after wave of sheer bliss rolling through your veins. His lips finding yours once again.

Kissing you lightly while he lined up his thick length with your soaking core..

“Your so beautiful Y/N… You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you this way…” He said. His thick voice barely above a whisper as his hooded eyes searched yours… Bring your lips to his again softly in a chaste kiss he didn’t let you respond as he slowly pushed his way into you, making you gasp at his girth and length. He was more than you could have ever imagined he’d be.

When he finally bottomed out he stilled inside of you, kissing you softly, lovingly until you nodded at him. Letting you know you were ready for him to move..

Over and over again he pushed and pulled himself into you, each drag of his tick length against your walls, hitting spot deep down inside of you that you didn’t know existed. His pace quickened as you both became a moaning, grunting mess. The sounds of skin on skin filling the room as he was now driving into you with a desperation that you couldn’t describe.

“Not gonna last long…,” he said between pants, his thrust being to break their steady rhythm.

You couldn’t respond, only moan his name louder as you were pushed over the edge again. He did his best to work you through your high before spilling deep inside of you. Something between a cry and a whine leaving his perfect lips that were buried against your neck. Kissing you as he finally stops twitching inside of you, giving you everything he had to give.

Brushing your hair behind your ear he looked deep into you y/e/c eyes, stealing your breath away again with just a look. Still buried deep down inside of you…

“Y/n I love you…” He whispered. His eyes searching yours.

“I love you to Dean, Happy birthday….”

Tag List:

@deanwanddamons

@imabitch4jensen

Happy Birthday Dean Tag List:

@spngirl05

#Dean Winchester x Reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fandom #spn family #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #dean wichester girl #drean girl #jensen girl #jawritter #Happy Birthday Dean Winchester

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kiatheinsomniac · 4 years

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Sooooo I know that we don't know each other that much but I had this thought and the first blog to come to my mind was yours, I was in Pinterest reading aus and found one that said you stop aging at 18 if u don't find ur soulmate and I thought about what if ur not from the same decade and that person lived all those years til now, imagine having a romantic dinner with the person and somehow when they were born comes up and damn I knew I was into older people but not that old and afagajhabwjahan

(Y/n) sat down hurriedly as she took her seat, already having missed the very opening of the play. She looked at her date who had new hope in his eyes at her sudden presence.

"I'm so sorry," She whispered to avoid disturbing anyone else in the café théâtre, "There was a delay at the Cité stop."

"It's alright, you're here now." He smiled, "I was worried that you weren't going to show up."

"I could never." She replied with a soft smile as he waved a waiter over.

"The usual and a (favourite coffee), s'il vous plaît, Victor." He spoke in a polite tone, proceeding to describe any other details of (Y/n)'s drink to the man, the employee nodded his head and went off to make them both.

(Y/n) had met Arno here at his café théâtre, she went in most mornings seeing as she worked at the florists just down the street. She was enchanted by the place when she first found it, often leaving the house earlier to enjoy a coffee and a chapter of her book there before her first shift of the day. There were often performers on the stage too and it was her favourite thing when a violinist or pianist was playing on the stage as she immersed herself in the pages of whichever novel she had been reading that month. Quite often, when she went in, Arno was the one working behind the counter. It wasn't uncommon for the two to flirt with each other at all either.

In fact, he didn't realise how much he liked seeing her in the mornings until she was put on an earlier shift at work and no longer had the time to visit his café in the mornings. When her shifts returned to normal, he asked her on a date the very first chance he got, and she readily accepted.

So, that's what brought them here.

"It's sweet to know that you remember my favourite drink." She smiled softly, feeling a slight heat on her cheeks.

"How could I not? You come in almost every morning." He teased, "But, I must admit, I usually take care to make sure I get it right for you." He watched her look down at her lap shyly, her smile tugging at her lips despite her trying to hide it. It was a small gesture but in a world full of so many thoughtless people, it meant a lot to her.

"So, (Y/n), what sorts of things do you like? Other than reading, I know plenty of Mary Shelley and Jane Austen by now." He replied. (Y/n) recalled to where he would often ask her how her book was going and she'd share her thoughts and favourite quotes with him.

"Well. . . I really like history and the arts. I think that there's always so much to learn from the people who came before us." At her choice of words, his face became painted with an amused smile, "And we have so many sources to look to now, to see the error in our past and current ways, to change things for the better. I'm particularly fond of the Renaissance and the French and American revolutions."

"The French revolution?" He raised a brow.

"Absolutely!" She replied with a grin and sparkling eyes, "I can understand why people aren't fond of it - it was bloody, ruthless, some instances were horrifyingly shocking and so many lives were lost. But how many lives would have continued to fall to poverty if that had not happened? I love the politics behind it, how easily Robespierre, the seemingly untouchable man, fell to corruption and, eventually, the guillotine. Also, movements like that are important became it gave many women the chance to show their worth - the women's march on Versailles, Charlotte Corday, Theroigne de Mericourt. . ."

"Ah, yes, I knew her."

"Oh, you've studied her?" (Y/n) replied, thanking the waiter as he placed their coffees down on the table before them. Arno laughed heartily, watching her confusion with amusement, the way she furrowed her brow and tilted her head, looking much more adorable in his eyes than she should.

"No, I met her. I helped her to get some food to the poor and get rid of some Jacobins too." He watched her face fall into shock, hardly able to drink his coffee with the smile on his face.

"How long have you been looking for your soulmate? When were you born?" She raised her brows. In this world, looks could be very deceiving: an eighteen-year-old could be a five-hundred-year-old. (Y/n) had even heard stories of people who kill their soulmates so that they never die.

"I looked for around two centuries, stopped after the first world war, then starting looking again," He hesitated, "recently." In truth, he had given up altogether until he met the (h/c)-haired woman sitting opposite him, "And I was born in 1768."

"Wow. . ." She breathed out, "You've lived through a good portion of history then, huh?"

"You could say that." He shrugged, "I take it that you're actually eighteen?"

"Twenty-six, actually." She replied, taking a sip of her favourite coffee, "So, I'm on a date with a two-hundred and fifty-two year old?" She tutted at him and shook her head teasingly, all in light-heartedness.

"All jokes I've heard before, chérie." He replied.

"Must be a lot of birthday candles." She continued to tease with a childish grin as he rolled his eyes playfully.

"Cut the old jokes and I’ll let you see some of my memorabilia from the revolution, how does that sound?" He cut her a deal. She lifted her hand to mimic zipping her lips and throwing the zip away.

"If it's not a sensitive subject, would you mind telling me if it's been difficult? Trying to find a soulmate, I mean." She spoke in a more serious tone.

"I always thought that my first love was my soulmate. Her name was Élise. My parents. . . weren't really in the picture when I was a boy so I was raised by Élise's father. We grew up together and we fell in love as teenagers. We both thought that we were perfect for each other but. . . neither of us aged after eighteen. It didn't make me love her any less, though. But, one day. . . She died in a fight." She could see that he was still upset by her death, though, the time passed since had clearly made him accept it and learn how to talk of it openly. "I've had a few lovers since then and many went the same way: three serious ones in the 19th century who left when they met their soulmates. One in the 1910s who died in prison-" He saw the look of shock on (Y/n)'s face "- she wasn't a criminal, she was a suffragette; as was I." He paused a moment more, "I gave up after that until recently."

"What made you change your mind?" She propped her chin on her hand, hanging onto each little detail of his stories. Was that the hint of a blush she could see on his cheeks?

"Not to be an old-fashioned romantic. . ." He joked, making (Y/n) smile at him joining in with her old jokes, "But it was you." Her back straightened a bit with surprise.

"Me?" He reached for her hand across the table, watching him nod his head as he idly twisted her fingers around his.

"You give me hope." He smiled simply.

♡♡♡

Quite a few months had passed since then - as had many more dates and Arno asking to ‘court’ her (that earned him both a ‘yes’ and many old jokes) - and (Y/n) was currently laid with Arno in his room, it was early in the morning and they were half-dressed, tangled in the bedsheets with half-drank coffee on the bedside table and a tray of various snacks laid by them: different cheeses, sweetmeats, cut fruits. Arno had his head laid on her stomach and she was propped against the wall, a pillow cushioning her back. One of her hands was running through his hair, his eyes closed as he listened to her voice and lavished in her gentle caresses. Her other hand was holding a copy of Frankenstein: they'd both read it before but shared a love for it.

" 'How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful! - Great God! ' " She glanced down to her lover, lips pursing as she laid the book down.

"Have you been stressed lately, amour?" She furrowed her brows, making him open his eyes.

"Having to change suppliers for the café has been a bit difficult, yes." He sighed, "What makes you ask?"

"You have a silver hair." She commented. His hand went to his head rapidly as he sat up, finding the culprit hair with shock. His mouth fell agape and (Y/n) was confused for a moment before she realised what this meant for both of them. He turned to face her, watching the smile creep onto her lips as he lunged forward to cup her face, pulling her into a deep kiss and holding her body as close to his as possible, skimming his hands down her spine as hers went up to rest on his shoulders, the two of them having to pull apart from smiling too much. He held her tenderly and rested his forehead against hers, lips brushing featherly over hers when he said:

"You took your time, didn't you?"

#ac #assassin s creed #self insert #assassins creed unity #arno dorian #modern arno dorian #arno dorian imagine #arno dorian x reader #soulmate au #modern au

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zerobotic · 3 years

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Well, you asked for it and you can’t say I didn’t warn you :3

First off, the usual disclaimer that I did enjoy DH2. I thought it had some very interesting level design ideas with the clockwork mansion and crack in the slab, the new powers were very cool and fun to use, and it polished some of the rough edges from the first game’s mechanics. It’s just the story and such that disappointed me after how much I loved the first game.

So to start off here’s some of the things I found disappointing or frustrating (and keep in mind these are all just my personal feelings on the games):

“Spoiled rich person learns a lesson from poverty tourism” is a plot that gets on my nerves in general and that’s more or less what happened here with Emily’s story

Like, not to disagree with an anti-rich-people story but the first one did a much more poignant job of highlighting greed and corruption and letting you be the one actually fighting it, rather than putting you in the position of perpetuating it. It felt like the first game showed it, while the second game just preached about it.

Boy this sure did feel out of character for both Corvo and Emily. Emily watched her mother be murdered at ten years old for the sake of political power, and then was held hostage for six months while being told her father was executed for her mother’s death. She got a firsthand view of how much the people of the empire were suffering during this time, and then when she finally got rescued she was immediately kidnapped and used as a pawn again by yet more schemers after her mother’s throne. You cannot tell me that’s a person who would grow up to be spoiled and carefree and complacent with their position, or someone who wouldn’t give a shit about their people. Yes, I know that she was a headstrong, rebellious kid with an adventurous streak, and I’m not trying to claim she wouldn’t probably still prefer, on some level or another, to escape to the rooftops with a sword rather than being stuck in court. I’m just saying that kids grow up and change and whoever wrote the second game seems to be stuck on taking ten-year-old Emily at face value for her adult self’s personality too, instead of considering how the first game’s events might have actually influenced her. She’s got more than enough firsthand experience to know to be wary of scheming nobles. (Also I definitely got the feeling, playing the first game, that at least a bit of how Emily behaved at the Hound Pits was her trying to cope with what was happening.) You also can’t tell me that Corvo, father and royal protector of the current empress, man with the most reason and justification to be paranoid out of everyone in the whole damn empire after everything he’s been through, would be so negligent in paying attention to a coup that the first mission claims pretty much everyone in Dunwall knew was happening.

Building off of that, in general it felt like the first game wasn’t allowed to have much of an impact. It pays lipservice to Jessamine’s death, and acknowledges Corvo having been a badass back then, but that’s....about it? Like I said in the other post, the first game felt so saturated in grief, both for Jessamine and for everything else going on in Dunwall, that it really influenced the overall tone of the game. The second one kinda feels like the first one never happened, or at least didn’t have any lasting influence on the characters or world, and it’s kind of jarring going from one to the other.

So with all that said, here’s my idea for a different DH2. Still using Karnaca as the setting and Delilah as the primary antagonist, just...different.

"Delilah wants to use a reality-altering painting to change the world into her vision of it” is still a plot point. Except, instead of the end of the game, it’s the beginning. It’s a logical extension of her actions and powers during the Daud DLC - the plan to use Emily’s painting to take over almost worked til it was stopped, so there’s clearly potential there. She’ll just think bigger, more direct this time.

The game starts on a ship. Emily and Corvo are en route to Karnaca for some sort of diplomatic mission. We get to know them a little bit during this opening trip: Emily isn’t an absent, complacent ruler, she's a young woman who inherited a difficult throne as a child, after a series of traumatic events, and now she's trying hard to live up to her mother's legacy and prove herself worthy to an empire that still seems to only see her as the child she was during the interregnum. She’s doing her best, but she’s insecure about all of that, and spends a lot of time frustrated with the back and forth scheming of the nobles, trying to please everyone instead of putting her foot down and getting things done. Corvo is trying to keep her safe where he failed Jessamine, but court still isn’t his preferred arena either.

The night before they’re due to arrive in Karnaca, we start getting hints that something is...off. Strange dreams, maybe?

They land in Karnaca and things are different than expected. But they don’t get time to look around, because there's guards there to arrest them, claiming they’re wanted criminals. They’ve got music boxes or something that can strip Corvo of his powers, and only one of them gets away while the other is taken. The one that gets away is stuck alone, disoriented, and hunted in an unfamiliar city - even if you play as Corvo, things are different than he remembers. More different than can be explained by just time.

They meet Meagan Foster. She takes them to meet a group of ex-whalers (the player character doesn’t know who they are). They’re a group that got back in touch with each other in Karnaca after Daud left and the whalers split, and they still do shady shit, but these days it’s generally more smuggling type stuff and they’ve put down the assassin blades. They’re the equivalent of the loyalist home base in this game. Meagan is still the Samuel stand-in, taking the player places and narrating things as necessary.

Information is shared and the player finds out that somehow, the world is changed from what they remember. Delilah is the empress, here, come by it what seemed like legitimately at some point in the 15 years between Jessamine’s death and now, and Emily and Corvo are wanted criminals. No one seems aware of the change except for the player and the whalers (who only remember it because of their experience with magic, though the player character doesn’t learn that til much later).

Clearly it’s Delilah who did something, because she has magic, and she’s the one on the throne now.

The Outsider shows up in their dreams that first night in the new world, but something is clearly wrong in the void, too, and it seems like he’s barely capable of reaching out and communicating with them. He offers the mark, but disappears before really getting a chance to explain anything.

The player goes through the game now with the goal of finding out what happened, how it happened, and how it can be fixed. DH2 and DOTO explained a lot more than I felt they should’ve, at times, and I preferred how the first game balanced worldbuilding with mystery. So, let things be explored and figured out along the way.

Things are real bad in this universe. From Emily's perspective as she goes through the game, we get commentary questioning whether or not she was doing a good job, and comparing it to how things are in Delilah's world. There’s lots of corruption and poverty and people suffering, and the question "is this just Delilah's world? How much of this going on in mine too? In trying to navigate court instead of putting my foot down, was I failing my people in the end after all? Would it have been better if my mother was still the empress?" The difference between this and what DH2 did is that she was trying, there was just a lot hindering her, including her own doubts. In this one, those questions aren’t preaching, they’re a sign that she does care and is pained by the idea of her people suffering like this again, by the mere possibility that it might not be just Delilah’s world.

Corvo and Emily have distinct perspectives, not just the same lines very slightly altered.

The bloodfly infestations are either 1) a natural thing that wasnt supposed to turn ugly like this and has been affected by Delilah’s magic, or 2) wholly the product of unnatural magic. None of this "we need them and they’re always like this, just not this bad" stuff. if you're gonna repeat the plague motif, make it actually horrifying, like the rat plague was. In fact, there’s obvious magic influence here and there in general - maybe not quite as thorough as at Brigmore Manor, but it’s present enough to give you the creeping feeling that things aren’t right, here, visual confirmation of Delilah’s influence, that things have been changed and twisted from their normal state of things. Hell, maybe this is where the hollows from DOTO come in, the original world and Delilah’s altered version of it trying to bleed through each other in some spaces. Maybe that’s a different explanation for the crack in the slab mission, even.

Actually, if you’re gonna repeat the plague motif, lean into the similarities between the rat plague era and now. Have them be reminded here and there by things they see, recount what happened and how terrible it was, compare it to now. Give NPCs lines about the comparison and how some of them left Dunwall only to be stuck living through something like this a second time. Let the first game have happened and had an impact, folks, cmon.

On a similar note, if you’re gonna keep Delilah's backstory the same when we finally learn it, let Emily and Corvo get mad about it. They lived through the first game - what right does Delilah have to talk like she's got a monopoly on suffering and that's why she should have the throne?

Delilah's mistake was assuming Emily was a sheltered child who wouldn’t come for her, rather than someone who's already been through a lot and come out on top. That was almost a satisfying thing about the second game but they messed up the execution of the whole concept and I want it to actually pay off.

I’m not sure if the targets in this one should be the same or how much should change there. Honestly, except for Breanna, the targets in DH2 felt a lot less relevant to what was going on than the DH1 targets did, like...why are half these people even at this ritual? But for simplicity’s sake let’s keep it as close as we can, while also adjusting for the fact that this reality has been tailor-made for Delilah and her buddies. Perhaps the Duke is only the Duke here because things were rewritten to put one of Delilah’s allies in charge, and it was supposed to still be his father. Hypatia isn’t the crown killer (what even was that plot point honestly), she’s the doctor they found to help Delilah recover after her time in the void, and now they’ve rewritten things to imprison her in the institute to keep her quiet and out of the way, and you get wind of it and go to see what she knows. Etc. Is Sokolov involved in this version of things? I dunno! But speaking of Sokolov I want some sort of explanation for where the other surviving loyalists are, damnit.

Delilah did something in and to the void, just like in canon, but it actually has a visible impact here (beyond just a total aesthetic redesign of the void between games that never gets commented on). The void is struggling under her influence when you find shrines, and you never know what you're gonna find at one of them, or what the Outsider is gonna be like, if he even shows up. Honestly, I’m not a huge fan of the way DH2 gave him a human backstory, because I liked the mystery there behind what he was and what the void was, but this is open to go either way, either with Delilah finding his death site like in canon, or some other way she found to influence it. I’m not sure how the progression would go of how the void changes over the course of the game, but it would be cool to get to help/save the Outsider in some kinda way.

Finding Corvo's childhood home should have more impact. Let it be like when you find the saferoom in Dunwall tower, in the first game. A temporary refuge in a dangerous place, full of obvious memory and grief - not so much for the time spent here since that's so long in the past, but for all that's been lost, everything they've been through and are in the middle of going through. Especially if you're playing Emily - this is the home of the father she just lost.

Let the heart be vague and ominous again, and let our interactions with it be sad, especially as Emily! I’m still messed up about the first time I heard "the doom of Pandyssia has come to the city" in DH1, and the lines about the floodwaters and the plague victims, give me stuff like that! Especially in a world that isn’t meant to exist the way it currently is, where things have been twisted almost beyond recognition. And give me lines that remind Emily of the mother she lost and how this is the first time she's heard her voice since she was a child!

Give us more on citizens and how they're suffering in this world, the way the first game showed us plague victims who died in each other's arms, journals from the desperate and dying, living people sent to the flooded district. Let it be a reminder to Emily why it's worth it, why she has to change the world back and what she wants to be fighting for when she gets her throne back. Another reason to question - has she been doing all she can? (Alternatively, a source of righteous fury for high chaos Emily.)

This is a journey of self discovery for Emily, either low or high chaos. It's about realizing she hasn’t been doing all she could, despite her intentions, because she's been trying to please everyone and in the end it still wasn’t good enough. She needs to stop living under her mother's shadow and come into her own (and the heart plays a role in this epiphany, probably. This might actually come to a head when she has to let her mother's spirit go, if we're gonna keep that plot point.)

High chaos Emily is similar but in a more "alright no more nice empress" kinda way whereas low chaos is more about conviction to put her foot down to do what's right.

You meet people during the game who in a good ending become part of her new council. Common people, who are more in touch with what needs to be done. It pisses nobles off but she's determined to do better, after everything. It helps both her and Corvo come to terms with the whole safety thing, because you can't ever make sure you're totally safe but you can try to make sure the empire can keep going should something happen to its ruler.

In fact, part of Corvo's perspective on this game probably would involve him still wanting to keep Emily out of things for safety's sake, and wondering if sheltering her from knowledge of magic and such contributed to this situation.

When it's revealed who the whalers are, it's late in the game after we've already come to like them a lot. They don't betray you like the loyalists did, but it should still feel like a punch to the gut for Emily and Corvo.

They don’t know where Daud is, haven’t seen him since the whalers disbanded .

Billie talks about that whole thing, and it's complicated. She decides maybe she should try to find him, after all. Cue DLC, which is about finding Daud, and helping/saving him, and the two reconciling and Billie finding some kind of...if not redemption, then absolution. A parallel to the first game’s DLC, Billie getting an arc like that in Emily’s game the way Daud got that arc in Corvo’s game. Y’know, instead of DOTO going and undoing all of Daud’s character growth.

I know I’m kind of handwaving the actual mechanics of who the targets are and how you actually go about uncovering what happened and how you can fix it and take down Delilah in the end, but this is all just. Concepts. If I were to try to write this as a fic or something I’d have to actually sit down and work out all those details, but for now this is something that’s just been living in my head since like an hour after I finished DH2 for the first time a couple years ago.

(I did warn you it was gonna be long lmao)

#turnabout rambles #mvtk42

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meeko-mar · 3 years

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Ok I just thought of this.

This is a further, further thought about my Kidnapped Deku Theory, about the captivity of Izuku, as well as the FUNCTION such an event would serve in his story. Surprise influence from a different Anime(movie) plays into my thought on this.

Now. Imma just preface this with: Part of me hopes I'm wrong about this, cause I like Compress and I don't want him to die yet.

But here we go.

So, Deku gets kidnapped, and somehow, the whole group, (probably minus Machia) escapes.

They bunker down in some hidden location. Shigaraki is way too depleted to physically do anything about stealing OFA at this particular point, so for now they just restrain Izuku where they can keep a close eye on him until shiggy gains enough strength . Izuku is desperately tired as well and cannot even hope of fighting back yet. So sit in captivity he does. And he observes.

And now here's where the whole thing of "Izuku needs to realize that the villains need saving too" thing comes into play,

Compress is SUPER injured. And unless one of them has some pretty adept med skills, it's unlikely that he'll get proper medical treatment for his wounds. So...barring anyone coming up with sudden healing Quirks, be it Shigaraki Or Izuku, it's likely that Compress will die.

Izuku is going to have a front row seat to the league as they lose, and mourn the loss of their friend.

Like I said I kinda don't want compress to die, but if his death has a purpose, aside from the escape of Shigaraki, maybe it's a step towards humanizing the League to Izuku. Up until this point, to him, they have been a nefarious, one-dimensional entity who has done nothing but terrorize his class and caused mayhem and death.

And nooo, this definitely ain't gonna erase any of that terrible shit they’ve done, or want to do, and he sure as hell ain’t gonna become their friend, but seeing some more relatable moments and seeing that even these guys are a found family and mourn each other's losses and that they sacrifice for one another too. It's gonna give him something more to think about in the big picture(and maybe make him realize some of the flaws in their Hero Society)

And, even though Izuku has chosen the profession of Hero, it doesn’t mean that he’d witness Compress’s death and be happy about it. He’s not the type to sit there and say “GOOD, you all deserve it, one less villain in the world!” (that’s Bakugou’s thing, after all) Izuku is a naturally kind and empathetic person. He can understand death and loss, and even though he cannot agree with their methods of rage, murder and destruction, he could come to understand some of the more nuanced roots of it. He wants Villains to face justice for their crimes, but he’s never been the type to actually wish death upon them (even when he’s trash-talking them while emulating Bakugou’s style).

((not to diverge too far, but I think the same goes for his understanding of Touya, he can grasp that Enji Todoroki was an absolute shit-heel to his kids/wife. He has a concept of abuse and how that had affected Shoto, and has in fact snapped back at Enji himself back at the sports fest when he really didn’t have to or even have the place for it, BUT It still doesn’t change the fact that Dabi was so far out of line in trying to murder his own brother that yes, Izuku is still super justified in what he said to Dabi instead of stopping mid-battle and trying to work it out with him. Like I said before, this ain’t that type of Talk-no-Jutsu anime. BUT I DIGRESS, BACK TO OUR TOPIC))

Like I said before and will say again til I’m blue in the face, Izuku’s understanding and developing vision of this world is more nuanced than that, and this is basically a slow-burn. He’s still young and learning, and he just needs those perspectives and experiences to edge in to his pre-conceived and admittedly exclusionary notions of heroism and society.

Secondly, Toga is also going to be mourning the death of Twice, who was killed at the hands of a hero that Izuku has worked with/admired himself. She’s going to have her own issues with Izuku and she may get the chance to have a more extended conversation with him, not like how the convo with Ochako was so stunted because Ochako was trying to apprehend Toga and was full of anger and adrenaline...Izuku in this situation will probably have no other option than to hear her out entirely. Assuming she’s not trying to stab him or suck his blood while she’s doing so.

The third thing that could affect him and his outlook, is that Izuku has already seen AFO’s manipulative tendencies over Tomura in the Quirk “dimension”, so he even has that to think about as well...potentially more, if Shiggy gets to try stealing OFA again. So there’s also that, which I think Hori is going to expand on later no matter what, arguably there was that one panel already that showed Izuku try to run towards Tomura as if to save him(not sure if that was what was happening, but we shall see).

Izuku may find himself in the den with villains, but he may see more pieces to the puzzle, and it might be the perspective he needs to truly become the world's next symbol of hope.

OKAY ADDED CONTEXT TIME. I suddenly realized where I think I got this particular vision.

If you have seen the Studio Trigger movie, PROMARE, there is a scene where the plucky protagonist, Galo, finds where a group of the Burnish are hiding, and the Deuteragonist, and Burnish leader, Lio knocks him out and ties him up. (without being too spoilery, the Burnish are people who have sometimes uncontrolled bursts of flames that have a habit of causing much destruction and death)

From here, Galo witnesses how they take care of each other even when the public image of the Burnish is a harsh and fearful one of rigid oppressionand dehumanization. He sees that they need to eat to survive, and most importantly, he witnesses one of their number perish after being a victim of many human experiments, and he sees them try to save that person, and then mourn, before they all leave. Additionally, Lio explains to him what the Burnish experience is actually like, as opposed to the narrative that is out there surrounding them, that Galo knows.

Now, Galo wasn’t exactly hateful against the Burnish people to begin with, but due to his job being a firefighter(an occupation in this world that is super Hype, kind of like Heroes in BNHA), his lot in life runs opposed to them by nature. He serves to protect others from the chaos that the Burnish people (mostly unintentionally) bring about...(also a bit like the Hero society.)

But this scene, set in a cave, with him restrained and with no option but to observe, serves to humanize the Burnish people, which obviously serves as the catalyst to the rest of Galo’s development and his choices later to stand up and help Lio.

BTW, PROMARE is an absolutely EXCELLENT movie and I highly recommend it...my hubby and I only just now got to watch it one of the first nights we were stuck at home sick. We slept on this the first year or two it was out, but it’s really good.

And as I was typing this and looking at a Meta video on YT about PROMARE it clicked that I must have gotten a little brain worm from this scene. Sorry if this got too far out of BNHA, and I didn’t share anything very spoilery.

So, RETURNING TO DEKU, and long story short: what would be the point of Deku getting kidnapped, especially at this time when the Villains have faced loss with Twice, and are quite likely to face it again if Compress dies from his wounds??

I think it’d be very very similar to this Promare scene, and would serve...almost the same function. Again, he’s not gonna become friends with the villains, and they are not going to turn to the Hero side, either. And it bears stressing, it doesn’t erase or condone or change Deku’s opinion on any of their criminal actions. Of which, there are many.

But it’d force Izuku into a different perspective, and he might learn a bit about at least some of their past, and their reasons for villainy... If they feel like explaining any of that to Izuku. It’s going to build on that foundation that his fight with Gentle and La Brava built. (Y’all, I love Gentle and his fight with Deku was important, if I’m reading these breadcrumbs right)

Anyway, this was super long, hopefully wasn’t too hard to follow, But my Kidnapped Deku Theory just keeps growing-- H E L P.

#kidnapped deku theory #meta #using some inspo from PROMARE #Kinda hope I'm wrong but it'd be interesting to see Deku learn this way #it'd create some interesting dynamics if he had to interact with nobody but villains for a while #my theory expands #oh no #mr. compress #bnha spoilers #post-war arc

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saintstrawberry · 3 years

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When the Night is Over/Just What I Needed

Second Chapter is up!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27733207/chapters/68086045#workskin

Ships:

bokuaka, kuroken, kagehina, daisuga, daiaka, iwaoi

Description:

A surprise visit, mariokart, and Oikawa. Malibu also makes an appearance (Or multiple).

Notes: Akaashi has a bad memory. Relatable content.

Songs I recommend for this chap are Dionysus by the Buttertones, Best Interest by Tyler the Creator (for Kuroo), and Shampoo Bottles by Peach Pit for the ending. I promise Bokuto will show up in the next chap! >.<

I also make a reference to Natsume Ono because she smacks! Read her manga Not Simple; it is fantastic!

Thank you for reading!

—————

Shampoo Bottles

It’s Saturday, something Akaashi doesn’t realize until he is flying halfway out his front door and huffing a breath at his phone screen’s mocking display: 6:30 AM, Saturday, June 14th. Exactly a week before Hinata’s birthday.

He blinks and remembers the night before, when he was nursing a red wine and a deadline for his “Ono Natsume: Shouting for the Voiceless” article. He remembers, vaguely, submitting the piece at 11:50 and dropping his head right there on his cheap Ikea desk, exhausted.

Presently, he’s nodding awkwardly at his neighbor (leaving the complex to work out, no less) and trying to make it look, somehow, like he meant to open his front door only to close it seconds later.

Toeing off his work shoes and entirely caught off guard by the idea of a day off, Akaashi retreats to his bed. He passes out almost as soon as his foggy head hits the pillow, dreaming of nothing. The next time he opens his eyes, his breath and body still completely.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty! It’s ten, I’m surprised you slept so long!”

“Kuroo-san, why are you in my apartment?”

The offender offers no answer but grins brilliantly, gold irises level with Akaashi’s blue-green.

“And just how long have you been here anyway?” Kuroo ignores him again, instead choosing to stand from his squatting position. His hands at his hips, Kuroo wears a white oversized Bouncing Ball hoodie and black skinny jeans. Much to Akaashi’s discomfort, he still has his shoes on- red and white high top sneakers with the laces tucked in. As always, the guy’s flawlessly disheveled, silver jewelry glinting from his ears and neck.

Akaashi groans and plants his face in his pillow. It’s too early for the young, beautiful, and rich.

Kuroo, unsurprisingly, doesn’t yield Akaashi’s thoughts and scoffs once. He moves to draw open the curtains in his room. Keiji can’t help but grimace as he feels his skin bathed in hot summer light.

“Man. You should really dust your windowsills. Do you even ever open these things?! You’re not some bat, ‘Kaashi. You need fresh air.”

“I think bats need air too,” Akaashi mumbles into the pillow.

Kuroo waves a dismissive hand and turns to survey him, arms folded across a broad chest. Keiji reluctantly turns his head to address his stare, squinting without the aid of his glasses or contacts. Kuroo’s bedhead is seemingly even worse today- probably from whatever plane he just hopped out of. The latter smirks devilishly.

“Well. Are you gonna welcome me back or what?”

“So you didn’t expect to land in Tokyo until Thursday?” Akaashi asks this of Kuroo about 45 minutes after his intrusion into the writer’s apartment. The pair are getting brunch in some needlessly swanky rooftop restaurant, one where Kuroo insisted he wouldn’t get recognized. Akaashi raised his eyebrows at that- his friend had stuffed his signature messy locks into one of Akaashi’s ratty baseball caps and donned aviators the moment they got outside.

No matter to him, anyway. Akaashi got fancy champagne out of the deal.

“Sure didn’t. Management canceled the show in Singapore last minute. Something about the venue. Fuck if I know,” Kuroo explains almost incoherently through colossal bites of egg.

“What matters is nobody got hurt. We refunded tickets and rescheduled the gig. S’all good. I’m just happy to be back home with my buddy!” Kuroo reaches over to slap Akaashi on the back with a friendly grin.

He’s sputtering over his mimosa when Kuroo continues, “Can’t wait to surprise Kenma tonight, either. Can you imagine his face?"

“Yeah, actually, I can,” Akaashi slouches his shoulders forward in his chair with an uninterested expression and quirks up an eyebrow ever so slightly, impersonating his best friend.

“Hey, that was pretty good! Though I guess it’s not that hard for you. You’re both pretty stoic. Like Easter Island Heads.”

Akaashi swats at him half-heartedly. Kuroo laughs.

“Anyway, you’re lucky I didn’t call him immediately this morning- or the police for that matter,” Akaashi says matter of factly. Kuroo clutches at his heart dramatically.

“Akaashi-kun. You wound me. I am the furthest from a criminal.”

Akaashi huffs a laugh.

“Tell the Osaka police force that.”

“Hey! What, a guy can’t take a piss anymore?”

“Not, apparently, from the top of the Umeda Sky Building-”

“To be fair, I didn’t know the police officer was right there,” Kuroo interjects.

“-After downing half a bottle of Malibu with Oikawa. And you were 17. You were lucky you didn’t get charged with public indecency.”

Kuroo pouts but offers no petition.

“Guilty as charged, I suppose. Hey, speaking of police officers-”

Akaashi clears his throat and interrupts, “Speaking of drinking, how was Singapore?”

Kuroo takes the hint and stretches back in his chair, raising his third bloody mary to his lips.

“Didn’t get much time there, only about four days before I got the call about the cancellation. Flew straight here after the news.”

Straight to Kenma, Akaashi supplies mentally, grinning fondly at his friends’ relationship.

“Anyway, it was pretty mild, all things considered. Bokuto seemed to like the clubbing scene more than I did. Matter of fact, he’s staying there ‘til the next concert.”

“Bokuto?” Akaashi says, cutting into his eggs and watching the yolk spill onto his fork.

Kuroo, now onto his nearly 2,500 yen crepe, takes a break from his meal to look up at him with a puzzled stare.

“My tourmate? Bokuto Koutarou? X. Ace?”

Akaashi meets his eyes blankly.

“I guess it makes sense his stage name doesn’t ring a bell, but I’m surprised you don’t know about the guy’s v-ball career.”

The blue-eyed 24 year old drops his gaze to the napkin in his lap.

“Sorry, sorry. Touchy topic.”

Pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san.

“Anyway, you should really check out some of his matches with the Panthers.”

“He was signed with the Panthers?” Akaashi sputters, clapping his mouth shut immediately after.

Kuroo cackles.

“Don’t give yourself a heart attack, Akaashi. It’s okay to be impressed- it’s impressive. He’s crazy. You’ll be meeting him soon.”

Akaashi only hums in response.

"You're coming to the show, right?"

Akaashi hums again.

"Big talker today, huh, Keiji?"

"Bah."

“Right. So.. you baited yourself a hook yet?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You know. After Daichi,” Kuroo tries again.

No, he really hasn’t.

Akaashi downs the rest of his drink. He peers into his empty glass in response.

“Haven’t thought about it really. He said it himself- I don’t have the time.”

“Oh, Keiji. Nevermind him.”

“Don’t sigh like that. Did you fly all the way from China to pity me?”

The rapper shakes his head, “No, I didn’t. I just want you to-”

“Be as happy as you are with Kenma,” Keiji finishes.

Kuroo gives a gentle smile, “Can you blame me?”

“God. You two are worse than the shoujo manga I have to review.”

“But twice as fun.”

“Shut up and eat your crepe.”

Kuroo happily complies, “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

“I’m glad you’re home, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi remarks. And he is. Even with his busy lifestyle as a chart-topping artist, Kuroo somehow manages to draw Kenma and Akaashi out of the house.

Kuroo and Kenma are both relatively new to their fame- about three years out from Kuroo’s first breakthrough hit and four since Kenma first started his Bouncing Ball Youtube channel- but their fans are… dedicated. Akaashi often marvels at how even Kenma takes it in stride. He's entertaining to watch and a seasoned video game expert. And Kuroo... Akaashi looks to the man and the ketchup stain on his lip.

"What?"

Well, they both deserve their good fortune.

"Nothing, nothing."

He has interviewed them each multiple times for the journal. The good thing about his friends’ famous status is that Akaashi gets to profit from it as well. He tells Kuroo as much and the latter almost chokes on his stupidly expensive breakfast laughing. Even Akaashi cracks a small grin.

“I told that was him!” The writer hears two girlish voices behind him, talking in excited whispers.

“E-Excuse me, K-Kuroo-san?”

The rapper breaks out in a large grin and stands, bowing formally at the pair.

“Yes? Hello, ladies. Are you two fans of mine?”

“Yes!! Very much so! I loved your new song!” The girl, about 17 with dark lashes and fire red hair, praises politely.

“Would, would you mind taking a picture with us!?” The other chirps.

“Not at all! Akaashi, my pal, would you be a dear and snap some shots?” It takes everything for Akaashi not to roll his eyes.

“But of course.”

--------------------

This is how Akaashi comes to search up the 2018 Panthers roster on his phone’s Google. He gives up his sleuthing when he realizes he doesn’t remember the guy’s name or know what he looks like.

He forgets about the whole thing until later that night, at Kenma’s celebration party for 5 million followers. It’s small, of course, about ten of them drinking champagne and playing drinking games. Akaashi knows Hinata did all the planning anyway, despite the event being at Kenma’s. The trio is standing off to the side when Akaashi pulls out his phone briefly to check the time.

Kuroo should be here any minute, he thinks. Hinata peers too, instinctually curious.

“Hey! Whatcha looking up the Panthers for? That’s not the latest roster, you know! Ooh, you’re looking up X-Ace, right?! Seeeeee, I knew you’d like him!”

Akaashi looks down at the picture Hinata points to. The guy’s sturdy and smug with one thick eyebrow raised. His chest is broad and his eyes are perfectly golden. The first thing Akaashi notices, however, is his hair. Absolutely ridiculous, he thinks. Makes sense that this guy’s Hinata’s idol.

Kenma raises his eyebrows.

“What made you do that?” he asks.

“Oh, uh, just...curious.”

Kenma looks like he’s about to say more when Oikawa joins their group with a boisterous, “Pudding Head! Congratsssss!” He pinches the smaller’s cheeks, who just about hisses in response.

Akaashi, grateful for Oikawa’s interruption, takes another quick glance at… X-Ace, and pockets his phone.

Hinata grins wide when Tooru, seemingly already a bit tipsy, ruffles his hair.

“Thanks, Oikawa-san," Kenma begrudgingly replies.

“You know, Kuroo is-”

Akaashi, ever vigilant, cuts in immediately, “-is so happy for you, Ken.”

Oikawa seems to get the hint, his eyes widening in realization.

“He sure is! Want some more alcohol?” The chestnut-haired friend of Kuroo’s quickly shoves his bottle of strawberry rum in Kenma’s face.

“You know I hate your sticky Malibu. Why are you guys acting all weird?”

Hinata, completely oblivious to the unspoken diaogue between Akaashi and Oikawa, tugs Kenma’s shirt.

“Kenma, Kenma! We should stream!!”

“Hey, that’s not too bad an idea, Shoyo,” Akaashi adds, if just to distract him.

“Sure, we could play some Mario-Kart. My fans seem to like you guys. Just don’t do anything stupid, Tooru.”

“Who, me?! And when do I-” Oikawa starts dramatically. The rest of the men send him a collective stare which answers his question before he can even finish it. He crosses his arms with a huff.

“Whatever. I call Princess Peach.”

--------------

After Kenma finishes setting up the Livestream and the small group has gained over a couple thousand viewers, Akaashi is in dead last as Blooper. Well, almost dead last, expect for...

“How am I losing? No fair, Kozume!” Oikawa whines.

“Me? What did I do?” Kenma-san replies, uninterested. Unsurprisingly, the Youtuber is in first place with his signature Toad.

“I don’t know, your fancy settings or something. Iwa-chan! Back me up, here!”

“It’s ‘cause you suck, Trashy-kawa,” Iwaizumi-san, whom the quartet bribed into playing with agedashi dofu, doesn’t hesitate to retaliate. His player, Bowser, is in second, with Hinata close behind as Yoshi.

“Take that, Hajime-san! Oh, shoot, sorry, Akaashi-san!” Hinata shouts, rising from his seat as he hurls a red shell, accidentally hitting Keiji.

“Hinata, language!” Kuroo’s smooth voice floods the apartment in mock disapproval. Kenma whips his head so fast he drops his controller. The blonde doesn’t say anything but slowly rises to his feet, then breaks into a short run at the sight of his boyfriend. The former picks up Kenma effortlessly and twirls him in a tight embrace. Akaashi looks on fondly.

“Kuroo-san!” Hinata exclaims, jumping up excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Tetsuro’s home. I’m about to kick all of your asses!” Oikawa waves away his entrance, sticking out his tongue. Iwaizumi slaps him on the back of the head.

The stream chat has exploded at the sound of Kuroo.

bb-corp: is that Kuroo???

applephi: NO WAY djwhdnbwibdfwq

yoyotetsuro: couple goals

kurokenxx: will anyone ever love me like Kuroo loves Kenma?

keeeeenmaaa_: I think this is the first time BouncingBall’s lost at Mariokart

----------

A little tired and a lot tipsy, Akaashi insists on taking a cab home. It doesn't feel right to invade Kenma's when the Kuroo's home. Keiji could tell the pair... needed their space for the night. He splits the ride with Hinata, who talks his ear off the whole way about Kuroo's arrival and how badly he wishes he had the money to go to a concert. Akaashi smirks at that, just a little. Shoyo exits the vehicle with an enthusiastic, "Bye, 'Kaashi-san!! I'll see you soon! Maybe I'll come to the store, or, or, you can come to see me and Tobio-chan! He didn't come out tonight because he has a game tomorrow, but-" The rest of his goodbye is drowned out by him closing the door.

"I apologize for the noise," Keiji addresses the driver. She makes a noise of recognition and drops him off 15 minutes later. He thinks about his conversation with Kuroo about "baiting his hook" as he enters his living room, dropping his keys unceremoniously on the floor next to his door. What does that even mean? Akaashi doesn't exactly meet a lot of people with his work and his friends are all, well, with each other. He's happy for them and all, but sometimes being around so many couples gets a bit nauseating. Akaashi is struck with a small wave of loneliness when he waters his small bamboo plant, made worse by the two shots of Malibu Oikawa shoved down his throat. This is all I have to come home to, a fucking bamboo plant. Akaashi stares at its braided stalks with a vengeance. Not a second later, he pets the leaves in apology. I shouldn't take this out on the plant.

He's always been relatively independent, but having someone felt kind of... nice, for a change. It's been almost a year since Daichi left, and probably 6 months since he and Suga got together. It's one of those things that Akaashi didn't process for awhile, forcing him to fend for himself when the realization came to knock him on his ass months down the line. He's been confronting turned over picture frames and empty sheets ever since.

And so it goes.

He pads over to his bed with a sigh and for the second time today, falls asleep and dreams of nothing.

#bokuaka #kagehina #iwaoi #fanfiction #haikyuu #kuroken #daisuga #daiaka #akaashi keiji #tsukishima kei #daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi #kuroo tetsurō #bokuto kotarou #kenma kozume #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio

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