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2hoothoots · 2 years

Note

Lucrecia Mux

Ford Cruller

character ask meme

i will do them both because i love them and have so many thoughts. psychonauts 2 is a game about old people doing war crimes

Lucy

First Impressions:

grandma!! sweet old lady!!! our introduction to nona is SO endearing and Raz is so sweet to her. he clearly loves her and so it also primes us, the audience, to be really fond of her from the first encounter

Impressions Now:

Lucrecia is a really good character. she's got such a rich and storied life, and we've still only seen half of it! what happened to her first husband? what did she do before coming to join the psychic 7? she's just so interesting and she's got so much depth to her. obviously she's a really tragic character, but she's also wise and sassy and so interesting in ways that female characters, especially older female characters, are rarely allowed to be. Lucy is so great and so refreshing. she's a funny old lady, a loving grandmother, a sassy and confident woman, a terrifying villain who killed hundreds of people in cold blood. she has the range

Favourite Moment:

this one's stretching it a little bit, but I'd probably have to say the archetype we meet of Lucrecia in Cassie's mind. it's obviously kind of a caricature of how Lucrecia actually was during her time in the psychic 7, but it was still the moment that made me go -- oh, wait, you're a person with depths and layers to you that we've barely even glimpsed. it's kind of melancholy, because that's the closest Raz (and the audience) ever gets to seeing how Lucy used to be -- before the deluge, before everything. there's so much to Lucy, such a fascinating and wonderful and warm person that used to be there, and all we ever get to see of her are other peoples' memories and old photographs. that was the moment that really sold me on her, and it also encapsulates a lot of the melancholy attached to her character.

Idea for a Story:

I don't have specific ideas but god I'm always so hungry for content of Lucy during her time with the psychic 7. the early days when it was just her and Ford and Otto, or bonding with the rest of the group (because she clearly meant so much to all of them) -- i crave it. i need it. give me the old person hippie commune stories

Unpopular Opinion:

i have two! time for a little controversy. the first is that the Nona=Lucrecia=Maligula twist is super obvious (especially if you've played the first game because certain things really stick out). this is fwiw not a bad thing, and I think it pairs well with how the Nick Johnsmith twist comes completely out of left field, but from quite early on in the game it's like, ok, i see where this is going.

for the second, i don't know if this is actually particularly unpopular but I think talking about other characters "going Maligula" kind of undercuts how much Maligula was, like, a perfect storm of tragic events that happened to Lucrecia, specifically? LIKE don't get me wrong it's a ton of fun to "what if" characters turning evil, i TOTALLY get that. but Maligula wasn't just one bad day, it was the culmination of years of manipulation and exploitation coupled with the tragedy of the time the psychic 7 spent exploring their minds without oversight or the knowledge of what could happen leaving Lucy vulnerable. Maligula is so much more than Lucy just turning evil, it was the love she felt for her people and her country being twisted and exploited, it was a woman being forced to do more and more horrible things until she broke. it's such an interesting and compelling and human tragedy, and it's really easy to undermine the sheer weight of all of that by just reducing it to "what if X character went evil". I DUNNO is that mean-spirited of me? i just really love tragedy and, like, Maligula is SUCH a good tragedy, i think she should be appreciated a little more

Favourite Relationship:

I really really love Lucy/Ford. they have such a compelling dynamic, and the love that was there directly catalysed the events of the second game. it's so good and so bittersweet, and also I just really love how shamelessly flirty Lucy is in the game! get it grandma!

Favourite Headcanon:

I have a lot but I really like thinking about Lucy's life, especially pre-psychic 7. like, this is a woman with stories. she's wanted in 4 countries and infamous in 7 more. she knows how to do Stuff with hydrokinesis that you've never even thought of. she is so interesting and i love thinking about her adventures.

Ford

First Impressions:

I remember being honestly pretty spooked by Ford! when you first meet him he's in this kind of incongruous dream sequence slash camera control tutorial (lol), and you start with this closeup on his weird old man face in a way that frames him as kind of sinister! what are you doing in my dream sequence, grandpa???

Impressions Now:

Ford. the saddest old man in the world. my beloved peepaw who has made so so many mistakes. he's such a tragic figure in such a good, compelling way! he had so much love and it made him so shortsighted! he destroyed himself and almost destroyed the Aquato family along the way because it was what he thought he needed to do to protect the one he loved. he has so far to fall in Raz's eyes, and I love how over the course of the second game we slowly see these layers of Ford (the wise mentor, the psychonaut, the living legend) get stripped apart until what you're left with is a sad, flawed, broken old man. it's so good

Favourite Moment:

it's gotta be the conversation Raz and Ford have if you ask about the eagle wrestler where they discuss the semantics of hyphenated words. it's just so perfect and so silly and I love how it encapsulates their dynamic. If you've never seen it (and it's very easy to miss!) please watch the linked clip, I promise it's so good.

Idea for a Story:

I would love to see Ford and Augustus sit down together and really hash things out after the events of the second game. one of the things I love about the games is their theme of growth, and how even though you can't undo your mistakes, you can move past them if you're willing to reach out and try and reconnect. there's a lot of hurt there, and I think it'd be cathartic for both of them honestly

Unpopular Opinion:

Ford is a better mentor figure to Raz than Sasha. there, I said it. listen I love the Raz&Sasha dynamic but I think it's mixed up in a lot of hero worship from Raz's side and projection (and also general 'not great with kids'-ness) from Sasha's side. whereas I think Raz&Ford have a much more genuine connection, Ford recognises Raz's spirit and talent but also his need for guidance and mentorship and meets him exactly where he is, and Raz very quickly gloms onto Ford as a weird surrogate grandparent-type figure.

Favourite Relationship:

I know I've already said Lucy/Ford but come on. Lucy/Ford. old people in love just gets me. if I had to pick another one I'd say Ford and Otto because I just love the 'snarky old man besties' thing they have going on, but like I mentioned above Ford and Raz is also extremely good

Favourite Headcanon:

listen, Lucy/Ford/Otto poly trio? amazing. outstanding. i bet they got up to so much chaos in the early days

#askmeme #psychonauts 2 is an old people game. that's what it is #also tag ramble because after finishing up the section about ford it's on my mind #i read a fic once that i really loved. but it was really firm about Ford and Otto DEFINITELY NOT DATING NEVER EVER #in a way that felt a little... mean-spirited to me?#to be clear (if you know the fic i'm talking about) i'm definitely not accusing the author of home of phobia #the way it came across just made me a little. :/#which was a shame cos it was such a nice fic otherwise

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amythedvdhoarder · 3 years

Text

Storm in a Teacup

Pairing: Bucky x Divorced Reader

Word Count: ~2K

Warnings: Fluff, a monster of an ex-mother-in-law

Summary: You’re on your first date after your divorce. Who should you run into? Your ex-mother-in-law.

A/N: This comes from a request sent in by a lovely nonnie, who wanted a fic based around a divorced reader who runs into her ex-mother-in-law whilst on a date with Bucky. Before that point, Bucky didn’t know about her divorce. Embarrassment ensues and Bucky has to make up his mind about what to do next. I hope I have done your idea justice. Sorry it took me so long.

Thank you to the wonderful @drabblewithfrannybarnes for beta reading for me. Ily hun 😘

It had taken a long time for you to get to this position, to feel comfortable enough to be dating again. But you had been separated from your now ex-husband for two and a half years, your divorce finalised 6 months ago. It was time to try and have some semblance of a life. You felt guilty about not revealing your divorce to Bucky, but when you moved to New York you really wanted a fresh start, so you didn’t tell anyone about your past. Of course, if there came a time when Bucky needed to know then you would tell him, but this was just a coffee.

Bucky and you had begun talking a few months ago. It started when he was dropping off mission reports with small smiles, progressing to hello’s and then to you making him coffee whenever he stopped by during your lunch break, which he always seemed to arrive in time for. He had realised quickly that you weren’t a New York native, so traded your museum recommendations for tv, film and music recommendations. Each time you met you discussed your latest weekend museum trip and he told you his thoughts on the latest thing he had watched or listened to.

It was clear that you two had a connection. Your co-workers had even commented on how well you and the notoriously silent super-soldier seemed to get along. They were surprised that you hadn’t been on a date already. But you had reservations; perhaps it was too soon. Plus, there was no way Bucky would be interested in you. He was just polite and maybe enjoyed having someone who wasn’t a superhero to talk to. It was a shock when he asked you out for coffee the next time you saw him. You were even more shocked that you had agreed without any hesitation.

You were nervous. In fact, nervous was an understatement. Sick to your stomach was a more accurate description. It wasn’t the fact that it was a date with Bucky Barnes, it was the fact it was a date. Your first, first date in nearly 10 years.

Bucky was leaning against a lamppost, outside your apartment waiting for you. When you saw him you felt yourself instantly relax. He gave you his signature lopsided grin that you had come to crave and ambled over to you.

“You look great,” he said as he stood back and admired you.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself for an old man,” you teased. That was the understatement of the century. He looked like a model in his dark wash jeans, dark blue henley layered over a black t-shirt and a leather jacket in his hand.

He shook his head and chuckled to himself. “Theoretically we’re about the same age you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmmm well I don’t know about that, but we better get going otherwise we’ll be out past your bedtime.”

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Bucky winked.

“Maybe elders that don’t act like teenage boys, but you and Sam are like high-school kids.”

Bucky looked confused for a second and then remembered that you had caught him and Sam hiding Steve’s shield under your desk the other week.

Bucky threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright, you win.”

The coffee shop was only a couple of streets away, on a corner opposite one of your favourite parks. Bucky and you ordered together and found a table near the window.

Both of you were chatting away about an art gallery you had visited the day before when you were suddenly interrupted.

“You,” that was a voice you would recognise anywhere, a voice which still haunted you. One of constant criticism, one that drove a wedge between you and the person you thought you would spend the rest of your life with.

“Hello Eliza,” you said through a forced smile.

Bucky stood and politely offered his hand to Eliza, but she ignored it leaving Bucky to sit down awkwardly.

“What brings you to New York?” you asked curtly.

“Well Leon and I are visiting my sister,” you balked, glancing quickly around the room, checking for any sign of him.

“He’s not here so you can stop looking. My son had a lucky escape by all accounts,” she sent a sneering look towards Bucky and then back to you. “Barely divorced and already moving on. I always suspected you were a whore; this just confirms it.”

Tears sprang to your eyes; she was publicly humiliating you. Calling you out for being a whore, when you had done nothing but be faithful to her son throughout your marriage and in fact whilst going through the long and bitter divorce. It was her son who couldn’t keep it in his pants. Anger took over and just as you were about to respond Bucky stood up and moved in front of you.

“Sorry I don’t know who you are, but you have no right to speak to anyone like that,” his voice low and urgent, his metal hand clenching and unclenching quickly by his side.

Eliza smirked, eyes flicking up and down at the man standing in front of her. “Ah I recognise you off the news, you two make the perfect match. Both damaged goods that no normal person could want.”

You stood up and went to stand by Bucky’s side, gently taking his arm in your hands. “That’s enough Eliza, we aren’t family anymore, you have made it evidently clear you want nothing to do with me. The feeling is very much mutual. We have nothing more to say to each other so goodbye.”

She let out a little exclamation of shock, but she quickly recovered her sharp exterior. Without saying another word, she just turned on her heels and left the coffee shop.

Bucky gently led you back to your seat, ignoring the people staring at both of you. You looked like you were in shock.

“Hey…” his thumb caught the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks, “she’s not worth your tears.”

This seemed to finally snap you out of your daze. You look at Bucky and everything just seemed so overwhelming. He was being too kind. Eliza had been right, you were damaged, Bucky deserved more than you, someone who could at least be honest about themselves.

‘I’m sorry Bucky…” you grabbed your bag and tore yourself away from him, running out the café and onto the busy street.

He didn’t follow you immediately like he wanted to, he knew you needed some space. Bucky didn’t know you well but wanted to, he was going to be there for you if you let him. Besides he had an inkling about where you were.

You were exactly where he thought you would be, sat on a bench in the park, covered by a weeping willow.

“Mind if I sit,” you jumped at the intrusion. Bucky stood in front of you, holding two take-out cups from the coffee shop and what looked like a very chocolatey cookie.

All of you could do was nod, the shame of Eliza’s words and your own dishonesty still coursing through you.

“Here,” Bucky offered you the cup and you numbly accepted. “Do you want to split this?” he held up the bag and you rolled your eyes at him. “I mean, I’m quite happy to eat it all,” he sent you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help the little snort that escaped you. “We’ll split it, would hate for you to have to spend an extra hour in the gym burning off a whole cookie.”

“You’re too kind,” he teased, opening the bag and poking out the cookie for you to snap off half of it.

Both of you sat and ate without uttering a word to one another. You couldn’t believe he was being so nice to you; you certainly didn’t deserve it.

“I can see why you like it here so much,” Bucky commented, breaking the silence.

“Bucky, how did you know I’d be here?” You turned to face him and took a sip of your coffee.

“I’ve seen you here before. But before you think I’ve been stalking you let me explain. I grew up around here, a couple of blocks away actually. I like to come here for a walk sometimes to remember the happier more carefree times. I spotted you one day but you looked so content in your own little world, I didn’t want to interrupt.” His cheeks flushed slightly with his admission.

He cleared his throat and looked at the coffee cup in his hands before continuing. “Then I started coming here more regularly, hoping I would see you, but I never plucked up the courage to come and talk to you.”

“I’m sorry Bucky” you said quietly.

“That’s the second time you’ve apologised to me today and I still don’t know what you’ve got to be sorry about. It’s not your fault that woman was way out of line. You don’t owe me an apology for anything,” His brows knitted together with concern and it made you feel even more guilty.

“I should’ve told you about the divorce,” smiling ruefully, placing your empty coffee cup between you on the bench.

“I already knew,” he shrugged.

“What? How? I hadn’t told anyone at work,” you spluttered in shock.

“That’s how,” he nodded to where your thumb and forefinger were twisting around where your wedding ring used to be.

You let go immediately and shook your head. “Why did you ask me out for coffee if you knew about my divorce?”

It was perplexing to you that anyone would want to come anywhere near you after your divorce. You had just assumed you would be alone forever. No one had two people out there meant for them. Well, maybe Leon hadn’t been your one.

“We can’t help our past,” Bucky flexed his metal hand, “I know that better than most. All we can do is make the most of our future. I like you, have since I met you. In fact, Sam got so fed up of me talking about you, that he threatened to ask you out himself if I didn’t hurry up and get on with it. Not that I didn’t want to, it’s just thought you could do so much better that an ex-brainwashed assassin.”

“You’re a good man Bucky, anyone would be lucky to have you” you whispered.

Bucky leant over and wiped away the tears you hadn’t realised had begun to roll down your cheeks. “I don’t just want anyone though,” His deep blue eyes peered into yours trying to get across his meaning.

“I like you too Bucky, but we’ve got to take this slow.” His face lit up at your words and he took your hand and pressed it to his lips.

“I’m over 100 years old, slow suits me. But seeing as our first date was hijacked would you like to get some dinner with me? I know a diner around the corner has the best burger in the city.”

“Sounds perfect, but only if you let me get it this time. I owe you for the coffee and the cookie.” You offered.

“I think I just about agree to terms of that deal,” Bucky laughed, scooped up the rubbish and got to his feet. “Shall we?” he asked, offering you his free hand.

You put your hand in his and got to your feet. “Let’s go.”

Gif not mine, credit to the creator

Divider made by the talented @firefly-graphics

Taglists are open. Let me know if you want in or out

Everything:

@stargazingfangirl18 , @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht, @buckys-henley, @lonelyheartsm @alexa-lightwood-blog, @angrythingstarlight, @drabblewithfrannybarnes, @rogueheretic555, @rebekahdawkins, @chrissquares, @pumpkin-and-pine, @hereforbuckyandsteve, @drakelover78, @baddie-barnes, @cas25214, @pandaxnienke, @thehumanistsdiary, @saiyanprincessswanie, @ladyacrasia, @sweeterthanthis, @joannie95, @lennon-knox, @navybrat817

Bucky:

@its-izzys, @archy3001

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #fluff #request fic

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fanfickittycat · 3 years

Text

One of Us

Title: One of Us

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen (anime)

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Fic Summary: You return to Tokyo where you are reunited with the man who broke your heart a decade ago

Rating: T

A/N: my first Nanami fic!!! I love him so much. Just a simple one-shot about rekindling your love after being apart with a fluffy ending. Yes, the title is an ABBA reference, no I will not be taking any questions on it at this time. If you'd like to read this on AO3 then you can here otherwise the fic is below the cut. Let me know what you thought!!!

I’m lucky that I came back during the spring, you thought to yourself, as you meandered around campus. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and pink petals danced around your ankles with every step. Even the scent infused itself into the air, carrying a bittersweet undertone to it as you reminisced about your time here as a student. The sound of chalk on the board; the feel of the grass against your cheek as you hit the ground during training; the look on Nanami’s face when he rejected you and this world. It had been spring then too.

“You’re here!” trust Gojo to spoil a melancholy moment. You rolled your eyes playfully, accepting the hair ruffling from your upperclassman with weak jabs back at him.

“Gojo, stop” you laughed “we’re not kids anymore.”

“Says who?” he pulled away, adjusting the black blindfold over his eyes “you still look the same.” He teased, patting your head for emphasis. You still came up a whole head shorter than him and then some.

“You don’t” you retorted “you look old. What are you, like 40?”

“What?! You know I’m not” he whined. He was so easy to wind up sometimes. You half listened to him as he complained to you, citing his skin care routine and the regular comments he got about how youthful he looked before nudging him teasingly. The two of you walked back down the path towards the main building, feeling the nostalgia seep into your bones softly.

“You really haven’t changed” you said with a smirk “still vain as ever.”

“And you’re still as sharp tongued as ever.” He sighed, putting an arm around you “still. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to throw a party.”

“You’re a lightweight, Gojo” you said, remembering the time he had snuck in vodka during the winter of his final year. He had wanted to show off and ended up throwing up after two shots, before he passed out in the same pile of vomit. He had never snuck in alcohol again.

“You’re not, I remember you and Nanami having a drinking contest one time.”

“It wasn’t a drinking contest. We were just having wine and cheese. It was a very civilised affair.”

“You must have done a lot of that kind of thing in Europe.”

“Not really” you shrugged “it’s not really something to do when you’re alone.” You didn’t mean to sound so sad, but it wasn’t easy to hide, especially from a man with Six Eyes. You were glad he didn’t press you on it, instead opting to blabber on about how great his new first year students were, and his unmatched skill as a teacher. Gojo always seemed to walk the line between being insufferable and incredible. Nanami had often winced whenever he heard Gojo start a new tangent, and you would rub his back reassuringly. It became an unspoken gesture between the two of you. When you’d failed at mastering a new cursed technique, Nanami would be there to hand you a tissue for your bloodied nose and rub soothing circles on your back. Maybe that’s why your final moment together was so sad. You’d told him you loved him, and he told you that he wanted nothing to do with sorcery in exchange for a normal, human life. He’d left you crying, and the absence of his palm on your back made you feel colder and more alone than ever.

“…so the official party is at 7 but the real party will start after. Are you listening?”

“Official party at 7. Real party after.” You repeated “I’ll wear something that can suit both.”

You had wanted to ask Gojo if Nanami was going to be there, but you held your tongue instead. You hadn’t heard anything from him after you two had split ways, with him becoming a salary man and you going abroad to conduct research. You already knew that if you asked, you’d be met with disappointment. Still, perhaps it was better this way. You might actually be able to relax tonight and remember what social interaction felt like. You wouldn’t have to worry about what to say if you saw him there, or overthink the black dress you were planning on wearing tonight. You’d heard that even Utahime was going to be there. You owed it to everyone making an effort for you, to be present and gracious.

The nerves were still there of course. You were happy to see the small collection of former classmates and teachers there, and excited to catch up. It was strange to think of how close you all were once and then you’d left and avoided talking to anyone beyond a few words at a time. Now, the bonds between you were a little rusty but still strong. It calmed the butterflies in your stomach to know that everyone still accepted you, though Utahime scolded you for it. Your eyes kept lingering at the door, in anticipation of him entering the room with a curt apology about his lateness but then you’d catch yourself and internally reprimand your actions.

“You’ve always been too tough on yourself” Utahime said, sipping her tea knowingly.

“Sorry” you apologised lamely, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

She huffed at you “stop apologising, it’s not your fault that men are idiots.” She eyed Gojo, who was trying to impersonate Yoshinobu, and sighed deeply. It made you smile.

“Thanks” you wanted to say something more but the lack of social interaction over the many years constricted your words. You didn’t even know what to say, let alone how to physically say it. Utahime didn’t mind however and squeezed your shoulder.

“God, I can’t stand him” she said, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. You turned to see Gojo laughing obnoxiously at something.

“Still single too, I presume” you said.

“You know he could never be tied down and imagine that poor woman” she groaned “it’s best he stays single. Imagine if he procreated.” She shuddered, making you laugh.

Ieri joined the two of you, shaking her head at her co-worker’s antics “I’m glad you’re back” she said to you “being a woman in this line of work is hard enough, and then you have to deal with that.”

You smiled “I’m glad to be back, even if it’s a little hard sometimes.”

“You know” Ieri looked down at her drink that she had spiked “wounds take time to heal and it’s important to cover them, but you also have to take the bandages off at some point and let it breathe.”

“You’re wise as ever Ieri” you said.

“Hmmm I don’t think so” Utahime said, frowning “if she was so ‘wise’ then she’d quit smoking.” It prompted a whole conversation, part jokes, part argument between the two and then Gojo stepped in to see what was happening which led to him being verbally bullied by the two women as you watched on and laughed.

“You’re all being so mean to me considering I planned this party” Gojo said, mock snivelling “and the after party.”

“That’s true” you said, perking Gojo up instantly “thank you for inviting everyone.”

“We’re not done yet” he said, bringing a corner of his blindfold down to wink at you.

The after party was more chaotic than you had envisioned. Despite not drinking anything, Gojo still managed to scream-sing the lyrics to every song into the karaoke microphone, sometimes even trying to elongate certain sounds in an attempt to emulate Mariah Carey. Needless to say, Utahime was so irritated that she agreed to join Ieri outside while she smoked. You wandered over to the bar and pouring a generous amount of wine into your glass, feeling warm and happy for the first time in a long time. Of course, you knew that it was the alcohol primarily, but it had also been so long since you’d had fun. You were going to allow yourself to enjoy it.

“Didn’t you think I was soulful?” Gojo asked, his grin wide and satisfied like the Cheshire cat.

“Very” you said, watching out the corner of his eye as he poured himself a coke triumphantly “I didn’t even know some of those notes existed.”

He shrugged mock casually “sometimes it’s a curse to be so blessed.” You two continued to talk, laughing at the ridiculous things Gojo said as he sat on the bar stool next to you, leaning casually against the bar. He sat up quickly at one point, looking past you with rapt attention.

“What is it, boy?” you jokingly asked and when he didn’t answer quickly enough you turned to look behind you. There, standing cautiously at the door in a jacket and tie was Nanami.

“Finally,” you heard Gojo murmur but when you turned back to confront him, he had disappeared into thin air. You felt afraid to turn, knowing that Nanami had probably seen you. You felt your heart race in your chest. He was here. This wasn’t a dream or your imagination. The wine made your legs feel weak and shaky as you clumsily stood, pressing your hands down your dress to smooth it out. Your palms felt clammy as you did so. Downing the remainder of the wine in your glass was attractive, but you could already feel his presence near you.

“Nanami” you breathed out, swallowing nervously as you looked up at him. You had often thought about what would happen if you met again and you’d played the scenario in so many ways; one where you were cool and calm, another where you cracked a killer one liner; even one where you’d pull him in for a kiss that would ignite the flames of your relationship. Instead, you felt your nerves shoot through your body and you felt like a mess.

“Your hair” you said lamely, reaching a hand up before stopping yourself and letting your fingers curl into your palm in shame “it’s different.”

“Yes” he seemed taken aback by your sudden note on his appearance “I changed it a while ago.”

“It looks nice” you said, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your pathetic comment “it suits you.” This wasn’t a lie. The shorter cut emphasised the sharpness of his cheekbones, which looked lethal in the dimmed lighting. He was taller too, if only by a little, and broader as well. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d look better after all this time. It made it hard to think coherently.

“Thank you” he said, “you look well too.” Disappointment already tinged in your stomach. He was just as strict with his feelings now as ever before. You both stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, wanting to speak and yet not at the same time.

“How’s normal life working out for you?” You asked, hoping your jovial tone would make things less tense.

“Oh. Well, it didn’t” he said, taking a seat on the barstool and pouring himself a glass of wine to join you “I tried to do it, but I couldn’t. Work is shit.”

Your surprised both you and he when you laughed “and what? This is the height of luxury?”

He smiled into his glass “no, it’s shit, as well but at least I’m better at it.” He raised his glass to you to clink “to this sorcery shit.” You smiled too, eagerly charging your glass to meet his. You watched him sip, allowing yourself to really look at him. Your eyes traced over his profile, drinking in the angles of his jawline and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I’m sure Europe was better” he said, making you snap out of your daze “at the very least, the food must have been delicious.”

“Oh, yeah” you said inattentively, thinking about evenings in foreign capitals where you fell asleep over your work with a half empty bowl of ramen next to you.

“It was interesting, and I learned a lot” you said, repeating what you had told everyone “I’m glad I’m home though.” You looked at him to gauge his reaction. His face was impassive as stone as he nodded. Dejected, you swirled the liquid around your glass, unsure of how to proceed.

“You were so adamant about leaving” you found yourself saying, the wine loosening your tongue “I’d never seen you so determined about something before.”

“I thought I knew everything back then” he sighed “I was so sure that I’d turn my back on this and work hard to maintain a normal life with a stable job, and money, and a family to provide for.”

You felt stunned “I didn’t know you wanted a wife and kids.”

He smiled without humour “well, something like that.” You watched wordlessly as he emptied the glass down his throat.

“I guess this line of work makes it hard to have those kinds of things.” You could picture Nanami in your head, in a dark suit and tie as he kissed his wife and child goodbye before going to work. He’d probably be good at it too. Firm but caring as he helped his child with their maths homework or opened a jar for his wife who would cook dinner for him every night. He’d dote on his family too, taking them to the beach and up the mountains or abroad. He’d probably keep a picture of them on his desk at work too. It pained you that he felt he couldn’t have that; let alone that you could never give him that.

He turned to look at you “well that and I knew I couldn’t tie you down like that.”

“Me?” you couldn’t have hidden your shock if you tried.

“You wanted a career” he said plainly “one that involved research into cursed objects and continuing to improve your skills and techniques. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t even give me a choice” your throat felt hoarse as you grappled with this new truth “you just made that decision for me.” You stood up, feeling woozy on your tipsy legs but determined all the same to get away. You needed air, and the chance to absorb everything you’d heard. All these years you’d assumed he felt nothing for you, and you’d been so embarrassed and upset that you put yourself in self-exile because of it.

“Would you have gone with me if I asked?” he said, following you up the stairs and out of the basement of the bar. The night air was cold and crisp against your hot body.

“Would you really have given up everything because of me?”

“I did give up everything because of you.” You said, turning to clutch the sleeve of his beige blazer, feeling your heart palpitate as your knuckle brushed the skin of his hand. Tears pricked your eyes and you looked down, feeling the rush of emotions you had kept chained away in the shadows rear its head into the light.

“I’m sorry I realised it all too late” he said, and before you could think he had pulled you into a tight embrace. You fought against him at first, wanting to be angry with him for assuming things on your behalf and making you suffer so miserably for so long, but you couldn’t. You gave in, letting your tears blot onto his rich blue shirt. His tie tickled your cheek as he let you press your face into his chest like you used to. His hand automatically began to take small, gentle laps on your back. He whispered his apologies over and over again, finally pressing a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“Nanami” you mumbled, pulling away so you could look up at him. His eyes were piercing as they regarded you. One of his hands remained on your back, whilst the other came up to cup your cheek fondly.

“I love you” he said quietly, pink appearing in his cheeks as he admitted it to you “and I hope it’s not too late to say it, however I’d understand if you didn’t feel the same. I was awful to you.” He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped when you pressed a finger against his soft lips.

“Kento” you said, tasting the way his name sounded for the first time “I love you too.” He took it as permission to lean down, capturing your lips against his in a kiss that you had been dreaming of since you’d met. He was still cautious as always, not wanting to push you too much, but you couldn’t help but enthusiastically pull him closer, standing on the tips of your toes to be closer to him. You shivered when he opened his mouth to take your bottom lip between his own, sucking on the plump skin as you felt a whisper of wind snake around the two of you, depositing fallen petals on your shoulders like confetti.

#updates #my writing #fanfickittycat #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk one shot #jjk headcanons #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento drabble #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fanfic

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someobscurereference · 3 years

Note

please use this ask as an excuse to infodump about any au/headcanon/personal project you might have wanted to tell folks about recently

Ooooh, this is a huge open book, anon. And I very much appreciate the platform to do it. Let's see what I have under my hat that (I hope) I haven't spoken about before...

Semi-Erased AU

This is the title I have for it in my documents because I got inspired from the anime Erased (and some asks ask I got like 2 years ago asking me who among the Trio I thought was older/younger that I can no longer find but I Never Forgot About), but it has almost nothing to do with the original anime/manga. I'm nearly 29K into it so far and not nearly done, lol. I will be shocked if I finish before the end of the year.

However! The basic premise is it's a modern AU where Inigo (just turned 16), Severa (14 at the start and then 15 later), and Owain (12 at the start but later 13) in Ylisse get visited in the dead of night by a strange wizard man (Anankos) who pops out of a portal and begs them for help. Anankos does not elaborate on what this help is or what the Trio need to do other than they need to decide Now, they're needed in Another Country, it's going to involve some Time BS (so don't worry about your parents noticing you're gone, kids!) and he's really, really earnest about it. Inigo, unable to say no to a man so desperate and really awed at the fact Holy Shit Magic Is Real, joins Owain (who wants Adventure so bad) and Severa (who wants to be Independent and why would she say no to this crazy magical opportunity??) in helping out this strange but earnest magic man.

...Which ends up with them getting portaled to Nohr in the dead of night, given fake names, a place to live, some money, etc., told to not contact their parents by any means, and oh, right, they're starting the school year in a few weeks. Good luck!

(Inigo: Wait, you're not staying?? Anankos: Only you can do this! Goodbye! Inigo: But what are we-- Anankos: *already gone*)

(Oh, and of course Xander, Camilla, Leo, & co. also happen to attend this fancy Nohr private school the Trio are sent to. Is this related to the mysterious task Anankos has set them on? Maybe!)

I have more written than this already (again, about 29K of it) but basically it's part slice-of-life coming-of-age, part teenage romance, part magical adventure, etc. Inigo, Severa, & Owain are two teenagers and a 12 year old living in this house with no parental supervision, and they are Not Friends at the start of this fic, lol. The circumstances would be hard even if they were besties going into this mess, but they're definitely not. They make friends (and crushes) with others! And rivals. And acquaintances. And their relationships with others (and each other) will change over the course of the fic! But they're not besties at the start, lol. Oh, and POVs alternate by the month! (Fic is divided into month sections. Ex: Inigo narrates August, Severa narrates September, etc. )

I have the general plan for why Anankos brought the Trio there, what's going to happen at the climax, how their relationships will change, etc. and a Bunch Of Notes for everyone's ages and background characters and whatnot. The plot just needs to be written out in scene format. However! Since it will be such a long time before it gets finished, here is some snippets from scenes that I have already written as a teaser :3

(1)

September

“Why is the ten-year-old balancing a checkbook?” Xander asked flatly.

“He’s actually twelve,” Laslow corrected as Owain swung his legs under the table and scratched another wobbly number onto the page. “He just looks young. Don’t worry. He does this all the time.”

Somehow, Xander looked even less impressed by this. Laslow—and how strange was it that he was still getting used to that name a full month after this whole endeavor had begun—had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing or otherwise commenting on Xander’s early developing wrinkles.

“Children should not be worrying about their family’s finances,” said Xander. “They—"

Wrinkling his nose, Owain blew a raspberry at them from the kitchen table. “I’m not a kid!”

(2)

August

The strange, inhuman Anankos came the evening before his sixteenth birthday in what Laslow—then Inigo—had graciously decided not to call a kidnapping.

Inigo had been in the middle of brushing his teeth when he heard a strange noise he could only describe as the sound of air being sucked out of a vacuum. He turned his head just in time to see a flash of blue light and watch a tall hooded figure step out of a rift in time and space in the middle of his bedroom.

He choked on the toothpaste and bent over the sink to cough white foam onto the porcelain.

“I’m so sorry for startling you,” said the hooded figure. “Please, drink some water.”

...

The hooded figure said, “Wait—”

“Dad!” Inigo called down the stairs, making the hooded stranger flinch. “Did you summon any ghosts or demons in the house recently?”

The reply was almost immediate—a returned shout up the stairs. “Nope! Your mother forbid that as of last month!”

There was a bit of shuffling on the first floor.

“Why? Is there a ghost or demon up there?”

Inigo looked over his shoulder and very seriously asked the figure, “Are you a ghost or a demon?”

The figure paused for a moment, as if that wasn’t a totally reasonable question to ask at this point. “No. I am… not either of those.”

Very reassuring.

“Just checking!” Inigo called downstairs.

“Alrighty! Let me know if that changes!”

“Will do!”

(3)

“Nice to meet you,” Keaton repeated. “This here is Fang, Shadow, and Casper.”

He pointed to the very large, very middling, and very tiny set of three dogs that had accosted Selena. All three of them perked up when their names were called.

She looked at the animals, a bit curious despite herself, and then point to the largest dog—a huge mutt with shaggy white hair who looked like it could easily fit Selena’s whole head in its mouth. “That one is Fang?”

“No, no.” Keaton pointed to the chihuahua. “She’s Fang. Shadow is the black one, and the big fellow is Casper.”

Fang looked like she weighed about three whole ounces soaking wet.

“…Okay,” said Selena.

(4)

“Hark! Who goes there?”

Other students leaving the school were turning their heads, looking for the source of the overly loud, barely-into-puberty voice. Selena’s stomach sank at the sight of the middle schooler standing at the bus stop.

Odin pointed at them dramatically. “Is that Selena of the fiery skies that I spy? Partaking the journey back home, are you? And who is this?”

“Oh!” Camilla startled, sounding horribly delighted. “Is this your little brother?”

People were still looking. A pair of teen boys ribbed each other, and one girl giggled to her friends, shooting glances between Odin and Selena.

She forced a laugh. “Haha! No! Absolutely not!”

“Selena and I do not share the bond of blood,” Odin sniffed.

“What a shame,” said Camilla, and she seemed genuinely regretful. “I have a little brother of my own. I thought they could be friends. Leo could use the company.”

“Leo?” Odin dropped the pose he was striking in surprise. “The same Leo who always has his head in a book? And goes to school here?”

Camilla brightened. “Oh, you know him? Do you share a class?”

#long post #i don't read high school AUs and don't care for fics about teenagers At All but this idea that won't leave me alone is the one exception #uhh other things of note: selena has celiac in this AU #since i have so many hcs about the awakening kids being sick from Bad Timeline Grima Magic but rarely implement it in fic #i'm implementing it into this AU instead #still debating on whether or not owain/odin has my own childhood asthma but we'll see #i do also have personal projects but i don't think i'll ever share them on tumblr for various reasons #but know that when i'm not working on fanfic stuff it's because i'm working on those #as i have been as of late #which has made progress on this AU Slow #asks #queue #my text #i was going to add other random HCs or something in this ask also but i took up so much space with this AU that I'll leave this here lol #thank you for asking anon!#semi erased au #severa isn't budgeting the checkbook bc she canonically doesn't know how to budget #and inigo can't budget because he's gay and can't do basic math #the 12 year old keeps more consistent addition & subtraction than him #this house is a mess lol #also xander doesn't like inigo bc he's an ass #which is valid #severa very much likes camilla tho #i say it's a modern au but it's like. modern-ish #like. late 90s/early2000s?? but very vague #don't expect a smartphone here

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wearethewitches · 4 years

Text

so. i finished watching the entire Underworld series. this will mostly be based off the sequels and prequel.

some key points:

Lucian is hot and both he and Sonja deserves better

To carry on from this point, Viktor is awful but exceedingly clever and if I ever met him, I’d feel like a two year old and be very upset and scared

Sonja is also hot and the casting choice for her to look like Kate/Selene was genius, making the angst legit

Therefore, it is a crying shame that Lucian didn’t get one last chance at having peace with Sonja’s death by living long enough in Underworld to speak to Selene and idk, either mistake her for Sonja or remembering her happily, also making a poly-ish comment about being happy with her and Michael before dying

But yeah, Rise of the Lycans was short, but overall a superior prequel than most series’ get

I only have two complaints about Awakening

The first: that a lot of the fight sequences looked like they could be transposed to video game format, which kind of ruined the moment for me

The second: that we didn’t get the best explanation in the ending voice-over about what happens next in the modern world - like, they have to run and that’s fine, but I either needed a comment about vampires and lycans fading into obscurity again or that the histories of each race were revealed, so they could co-exist with mortals in plain sight

Otherwise, I really liked it - it was a nice continuation of all the virus and science-based action fantasy stuff we’re used to seeing from the first two movies

But Blood Wars

Oh, this movie

I loved Selene’s new hair in Blood Wars.

Except, the entire movie felt off to me, considering it pushes forwards like, 200+ years and just about completely discards the whole ‘humans hunt vampires and lycans’ deal, etc. and forget about Antigen

I wanted more mortal nonsense, please

You included them in Awakening, so live up to your continuity; what happened to that officer dude?

And also, Michael could totally live through that blood draining, he literally bled to death in Evolution and came out fine a couple of hours later

Blood Wars was also chockablock with Game of Thrones characters and that was a trip. I actually made a game of it in my head

But basically, Blood Wars broke a lot of rules of the series and for fic, I will definitely be tightening the reigns on some of what we saw in that movie

The northern coven was also sketchy; I can understand being peaceful, but the aesthetic was too much, just really fake and also, this isn’t real fantasy

I watched a behind the scenes thing from the first movie and the producers explicitly didn’t base these movies with a magical premise, it’s plagues and viruses and things that can be explained with hand-wavy science

Funnily enough, one of my original beefs with the second movie was the whole ‘blood has memory’ thing, because they were using it as a deus ex machina or a macguffin, for those who aren’t familiar with the former term

But overall, I didn’t mind

What I do mind is that spirit world stuff - that is not science. that goes against everything these movies were based on

(which is funny, because i’m writing an underworld x hp crossover, but at least i’m not changing the vampire and lycans’ origins, seeing as in hp they don’t have any. see. i can follow the rules, Blood Wars.)

In any case, Blood Wars, I will admit was a good movie. The vampire politics and Marius draining Michael for his blood-

Again. Michael has survived worse.

-and Samirah was fantastic, really.

Oh wait, I forgot: I hate David being Amelia’s son. That was a bad choice.

I know you regretted killing off Amelia in the first movie, but this is not the way for her to make an impact and give her ‘backstory’.

No.

What you should have done is had them go North and discover the real Amelia lying in wait, because she’s been using body doubles for centuries and that is how you make an impact

And honest to god, writers, if you mention the whole ‘Samirah was at the northern coven!’ I will stick you. That Samirah you built? That bitch? That bitch would never step anywhere near that castle you built. She’d die before giving up her high fashion couture.

I love that castle. Just not the faux-Scandinavians.

If you wanted, writers, to have Blood Wars be about blood ties, Corvinus or not, then- well, you could still make David her son. But Amelia could have been hiding out in that better, much more badass and brutal and ancient sort of coven, regrouping as the world falls apart.

(Has this turned into a big ass complaint about Blood Wars? Yes. Yes it has.)

Though Selene’s hair was actually the bomb and her discovering Michael was dead was one of the best scenes in the film.

I don’t agree with it, but it’s still awesome.

Also! Also - Eve! Where the hell did that name come from? Eve, like the first human? Nah man, I know you’ve got a whole Michael-is-her-dad and that’s actually an angel name, but your name is Selene. Greek Mythology is all about new monsters and hybrid animal types, you could have been more creative than Eve.

So...yeah. Will probably have more critical reviews to add on. Will probably fic it all up the way I like it. This seems about it - oh wait.

You killed off Erika. Weak.

Also, Kraven’s death may have been a long time coming, but you didn’t pace it right so it felt off and kind of useless to the narrative.

I get that you wanted gore, but actually, him getting spiked through the skull rather than the Headplosion would have been more aethetically pleasing to the feel of the movie.

Amelia.

Yeah. Just one word. Less than TEN SECONDS OF SCREENTIME.

Fucking Amelia.

My askbox is open for rants, so - chop chop, tell me all your grievances. We’ll shout into the void together.

#underworld 2003 #underworld blood wars #rant #review #underworld awakening #underworld evolution #underworld #criticism #movies #personal #selene #michael corvin #underworld movies

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rebeccaheyman · 4 years

Text

reading + listening 10.12.20

The Love Square (Laura Jane Williams), eBook ARC (pub date February 2021). If the marketing/cover on this title made you think it might nestle in nicely beside your small-UK-town romances, think again. Here’s my 2-star NetGalley review (and an added bonus, my recommendation to simply read The Bookshop of Second Chances instead, reviewed in my roundup from 9.21.20):

Sadly, I found THE LOVE SQUARE neither as funny nor as smart as the publisher's market copy suggests. The book revolves around a profoundly self-centered, borderline-unlikeable heroine and the three men with whom she has romantic liaisons. Her external conflicts include running her own cafe, helping run her uncle's pub/restaurant, and deciding whether or not to engage a surrogate for the fertilized embryos she had prepped prior to undergoing treatment for breast cancer. There's not much in the way of lightness or humor throughout -- rather, we see a lot of angst, pining, crying, and uneven character development.

If love triangles are a somewhat hackneyed convention in storytelling, we might expect a new shape -- the square! -- to solve the problem of predictability. But THE LOVE SQUARE takes the guess-work out of Penny's choices by painting one of her lovers as the clear, capital-L Love she's been waiting for. The others are mere distraction, which rather undermines the scenes/tension based around these characters.

My biggest problem with THE LOVE SQUARE was Penny herself, however. She makes childish choices that perpetuate the story's primary "conflict" (it's not really a conflict if it can be solved with a single conversation, eh?), and Act III finds her laying claim to Big Feelings about her time in Derbyshire despite the fact that little-to-none of those feelings make it to the page. "I was crying a lot before," Penny claims, when reflecting on her time at her uncle's pub. "Like, I would cry if I burnt my hand in the kitchen, which, well, I'm a chef, so that happens all the time and we're literally trained to withstand it. Or I'd cry at what was on TV, not just the movie or whatever, but the adverts too." In sum, Penny is depressed at the book's start, gets more depressed as she conveniently denies feeling depressed throughout the novel, then settles on the epiphany that her depression will likely right itself if she finally gets what she really wants: A BABY.

Le sigh.

There are some strange narrative features here, including: the integration of Lizzo as a significant tertiary character; low-key slut-shaming; awkward turns of phrase ("...his manly fingers proved too chubby for the fine work of knotting the latex [balloon]."; and an overall lack of tension. If a mystery resides at the heart of every novel, then the grand question here is, Will Penny stop being such a self-centered brat and learn to treat others/herself with respect? Not the most compelling question, I'm afraid.

It's worth noting that Williams includes the most gracious, inclusive, kind set of Acknowledgements I've ever read at the end of her book. I wish her protagonist could have reflected even a modicum of the grace demonstrated in the back matter.

It might be worth noting that a different structural approach to this story might have made it far more enjoyable. I’ll be discussing this further in my new series, Read Like A Writer, on the Reedsy YouTube channel.

Spoiler Alert (Olivia Dade), aBook (narr. Isabelle Ruther). I’ve been following Olivia Dade on Twitter for some time, and find her so witty and lovely that I made a point of pre-ordering the audio for SPOILER ALERT. The concept here, that an avid fan of a GoT-style show, who writes fan fic, designs and wears cos-play, and also happens to be fat, goes on a date with one of the stars of the show -- unaware that he also happens to be her dyslexic bestie from the fan-fic server. No spoiler alert needed for this review, but suffice it to say the shenanigans you might expect are augmented (and much improved) by Dade’s deep focus on the emotional trauma of childhood, the challenge of vulnerability as an adult, and the complications of defying society’s expectations -- whether you’re a fat woman or a brawny, pretty-boy celeb man.

If you found Lucy Parker’s LONDON CELEBRITIES series charming (as I did), you’ll love the behind-the-scenes dynamics of Marcus’s show/costars -- and Dade writes at a comparable heat level, too. There’s something here for fans of Jen Deluca’s WELL MET, too, in the way the fan fic and show communities create a kind of world-building overlay on the otherwise familiar setting. I was exceedingly charmed by the intertextual elements in SPOILER ALERT -- message exchanges, fan fics, script excerpts -- which brought Gods of the Gates to life in interesting, dynamic ways. If you liked FANGIRL by Rainbow Rowell, you’ll find the same commitment to a fictional fiction here, rendered even more inception-y by the simultaneous presence of books, a TV show, the actors who have feelings about said show, and fan fics -- plus the writers of those fics in real life. Phew!

All in all, I am an Unapologetic Olivia Stan, looking ever so forward to Dade’s next title.

His Only Wife (Peace Adzo Medie), aBook (narr. Soneela Nankani). LUSTER meets CRAZY RICH ASIANS in this fascinating portrait of Afi Tekple, a young Ghanaian woman who, at the book’s start, is being married off to Elikem, who doesn’t actually show up for his own wedding. Eli’s mother hopes marriage to Afi is enough to make her son set his current paramour aside -- despite the fact that the two have a child together. Afi leaves her small hometown for capital city Accra, and there finds herself caught up in a world -- and love affair -- that challenges the very notion of who she is.

HIS ONLY WIFE was the first book I’ve read set in Ghana since Yaa Gyasi’s HOMEGOING, and I loved getting this contemporary view of a country where a town like Ho and a city like Accra coexist. More books in Ghana, please!

Perhaps because Ghana plays such a significant role in the book itself, I found the choice of narrator here extremely strange. I loved Soneela Nankani on THE MARRIAGE GAME, but found her American accent drew me out of the story in HIS ONLY WIFE. Ghanaian accents sound vaguely British to my untrained ear, so if casting a Ghanaian actress/narrator like Akosua Busia wasn’t an option, the publisher might have opted for a Brit with an ear for Ghanaian accents, Adjoa Andoh. As any dedicated audiophile knows, a narrator can make-or-break a recording...Soneela Nankani is incredibly talented, but she did seem somewhat misplaced here.

The Invisible Life of Addie Larue (V.E. Schwab), eBook and aBook (narr. Julia Whelan). Apparently I was looking so forward to this title, I pre-ordered both the eBook and aBook?? No matter -- at nearly 500 pages and 17+ hours of audio, it was nice to be able to switch off.

ADDIE LARUE boasts all the signatures of Schwab’s narrative style: characters whose very humanness is their greatest asset and foible; stories with sweeping scope distilled to the experience of only one or two characters; lush, endlessly quotable prose; strong, subtle, deeply-feeling women looking to make their own way in a world that would very much like them to shut up and know their place.

In a moment of desperation, Adeline “Addie” Larue makes a Faustian bargain with a god who comes from the shadows. She gets what she wants -- time, freedom -- and what she doesn’t: no one who meets Addie can remember her. Until someone can.

No spoilers here, but it was impossible not to be swept away by the nuance and inventiveness of Schwab’s latest. Did it transport me as far or as fast as SHADES OF MAGIC? No. But was it lovely to be in expert narrative hands, on a journey tracing one woman’s defiance of everything the world thought she should be? You bet.

This was probably Julia Whelan’s finest narration since EDUCATED, so it goes without saying, I highly recommend the audio.

#the love square #the invisible life of addie larue #his only wife #spoiler alert #audiobooks #book review #ebook #NetGalley #read like a writer

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kinetic-elaboration · 5 years

Text

November 18: Thoughts on The 100 2x07

Okay, gonna try this again with another ep. Long Into the Abyss

The last time I was watching T100 I was back at the beginning of S2 so I could remind myself of some stuff for a fic so now I’m really out of sorts.

I remember watching this ep for the first time and thinking, ‘oh, I guess Keenan isn’t going to be important, then.’ The fucked-up-ness levels of this scene are supremely underrated. Much like how they experiment on Maya--they know no shame. Also I feel like the implication is that Keenan isn’t the first person they’ve killed in this way. Does no one.... miss them? Why was there no revolt from the populace on the grounds of ‘they’re experimenting on us’ if not on the grounds of ‘they’re experimenting on these random kids’?

That Keenan was felled by rain makes me think that the rain was....dun dun dun, acid the whole time.

“Civilian check-in will take place at 0900 hours. All civilians must be accounted for by your station supervisors.” I mean first there are only two stations lol but otherwise... collecting more data for the Ark AU.

“This is not our home, it’s theirs” is SUCH a retcon and I’m still angry about it.

It makes absolutely no sense that Abby is still in charge even though the duly elected Chancellor is back in the settlement. I mean I know they’re just making shit up now but they’re not even trying.

Jaha’s faith would be more compelling if it didn’t mean randomly abandoning big chunks of his people--not just Marcus and the 48 but every other station that may or may not be out there. I guess he still sees them as a whole not as individuals or even as sub-parts. (I’d say he’s being selfish but in fact he will sacrifice himself too.)

This would have been a good time to lean even more into the 100 as a distinct people all their own. Clarke (and co.) care about the 48 than anything else. But no one else does, really; they were already thrown away.

That was the worst speech Chancellor 1 and Chancellor 2 could have given because now it’s super obvious they are not on the same page.

“The Grounders are attacking because of me” is 100% true and you should say it. People in this fandom love to hate on fuckboy Finn but the actual main characters stuck behind him right up until the bitter end lol, let’s not forget that.

Also yes Clarke’s line is stupid (”The Grounders are attacking because that’s what they do”) but.... she’s not entirely wrong that the Grounders have historically targeted them for almost no reason, over and over, since day one. So yeah they’d probably be attacking anyway. Not five minutes ago Jaha was saying they were just trying to get ‘invaders’ off their land so....yeah no one knows.

Raven’s Gate!

The Mount Weather delinquents! I love them. I love their group dynamic. I love the bizarre way Jasper is sitting, and how much faith he has in Clarke, and Monty being the voice of pessimistic reason. I do not love Monty’s hair. That is an unfortunate cut.

WE’RE CRIMINALS RIGHT SO LET’S BE CRIMINALS.

Says the boy whose crime was being a stoner.

Like tbh now that I’ve looked at the whole season from afar, trying to make it make sense for fic writing purposes, I see that this whole ep’s story line probably mostly exists just to buy some time while actual progress is made outside the Mountain but... I still love it.

Give Ricky Whittle an Emmy lol.

S2 Clarke was such peak Clarke... she’s so smart. Figuring everything out all the time.

[All Grunting]

David Miller is the true and only MVP I said what I said.

Mount Weather population: 382. You know people can give bone marrow without dying. Perhaps you could stop being so greedy and impatient.

Octavia trying to be brave and strong while looking young and scared and small is Endearing.

Totally forgot Nyko was a healer.

Or an Angel of Death lol.

I’m just going to say it. Bellamy was turned on by Clarke electrocuting Nyko.

I’m not super crazy about the Finn and Lincoln comparisons given that Finn acted of his own free will and Lincoln was turned into a cannibal.

The only scenes that really matter are the MW ones as per usual.

“Ye of little faith.”

“That’s my boy.”

I love Miller’s little thief kit omg. And Monty the Stereotypical Hacker.

“And they said we wouldn’t amount to anything.” UNDERRATED LINE.

“Abby, you cannot seriously be taking seriously the thoughts of a teenage girl we previously agreed was completely expendable lol??”

I’d say ‘why do the Grounders need such a comically large force to wipe out a tiny little enclave of scared refugees’ but of course the last time they went up against an even tinier group of refugees they got roasted, toasted, and burned to a crisp so...fair enough.

“She was Anya’s second” as in that should matter because Clarke and Anya were such good friends....?

Jaha hates not being in power so bad. Like he’s this-close from saying ‘Abby stop playing and hand over the pin to a real adult.’ Like he truly thinks she’s just fucking around and he’s entitled to the final say because...habit I guess?

Another point to Finn: if they left they would NEVER come back for the MW kids lol. What an obvious lie. Does Jaha believe his own bs??

Also someone should have pointed out that the Grounders have literally never been good faith with them. Never. Like who says that if the Ark left the Alpha Station site that the Grounders wouldn’t pursue them and kill them anyway? The delinquents abandoned the dropship site and were followed and attacked. (Am I mis-remembering or was ‘leave or die’ the offer then too?) The Ark doesn’t know how much land “belongs” to Trikru (prob because none of it does lol). Like, Jaha’s confidence that Lexa wasn’t lying to him the whole time--like every other time she opens her mouth, because almost everything she says is in fact a lie--is wildly misplaced imho.

All of that said and I completely stand by it--he’s not wrong that he’s the real Chancellor and it is ridiculous that the actual elected Chancellor has to beg the rando who just happens to have the pin to do something. Like--he is right on the procedure but wrong on the substance is what I’m saying.

And here another example of how only the person who controls the army has real power.

Remember when Abby and Clarke had a good relationship? And it was significant and moving? Anyway another answer to ‘why are you throwing everything away on this plan’ would be ‘because it’s not a shitty plan, you’re just not hearing it out,’ or alternately ‘because we need to deserve to live as I have already said back in the pilot and walking away from MW would be morally abhorrent.’

Netflix subtitles don’t know Miller’s name lol.

MW surveillance of Alpha Station.

Honestly as soon as the stuff with the Grounders moves to the fore I just zone out. Maybe it’s because the tension is gone when you know what happens or maybe it’s because I never really believed ADC but...eh. She has a cool glove though.

They really do hammer home the idea that the MM aren’t really “alive.” Someone bring back that ‘they’re the souls in the underworld’ meta stat.

“This is our world. We deserve this.” Imo this is the hubris of the descendant of American Executive Branch survivors, the belief that, because they were chosen to live for their importance to the whole concept of America, that they now deserve not just survival but a return to that which they themselves destroyed. (I know in this universe it was some rogue AI blah blah blah--it’s more interesting if it was a nuclear war in the traditional sense in my opinion.) Dante has the other side of the argument: We are the keepers of history. The responsibility, over the entitlement. And he recognizes that this legacy is already stained, perhaps irrevocably. Is it ridiculous that he drew his line in the sand? Did he even make that decision, about the Grounders, or did his father make it? Does he think it’s okay because the Grounders are ‘savages’? Because the MM can survive without the bone marrow but not without the blood?

I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what the concept is here with saving Lincoln. Like is this real science about overdoses or just like shit made up as they went along? The only thing I got was the heart thing with the electric shock but like...unclear on the rest... is it just waiting out the detox, I guess?

The dropship has a cute tiled floor. I never noticed that.

They didn’t lie! They were just being as dramatic as possible! Griffin women specialty.

I never shipped M/inty but that was a nice moment. Love those attempts to expand Miller’s character. Also completely forgot that what Miller found was the engineering schematics.

“It’s not complicated really. We just need to keep them alive long enough for the drug to leave their system.” Okay so I was basically right. Not sure how she came to that conclusion from the fight scene but w/e.

L just strikes me as like a young person pretending to be a leader rather than like an actual leader... I’m sorry. But that’s just my read.

Anyway here she is, bad faith as always--moving the goalposts again. “You can have your truce if I get one thing”--LADY YOU GOT YOUR ONE THING THE FUCKING REAPERS HELLO. You don’t get a second thing. I mean fuck really you’re already getting two things: the Reapers and an ally in taking down the Mountain. Now you want a third thing?? No. No more things.

“The one you call Finn”--see, honestly, fake. You’re from fucking Baltimore, no one talks like this or has ever talked like this in the history of human speech.

Anyway, that was intellectually exhausting. Missed seeing my girl Maya. And even more importantly, Raven. And Bellamy had so little to do. He looked damn fine though.

#the year 2019 #2019: fandom thoughts #2019: the 100 s2 #the 100

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bevioletskies · 6 years

Note

Starmora Prompt: EWTRTW-ish the whole team goes on a mission in which peter is the honey pot and the mission goes wrong. A jealous and badass gamora please.

This fic takes place between Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and Avengers: Infinity War.word count: 5.5k | ao3

“We have a message from the Nova Corps. They’ve got a job for us,” Gamora announced one morning at the crack of dawn, striding into the Benatar’s kitchen on a mission for a cup that wasn’t suspiciously foggy.

“Mornin’ to you too,” Peter said affectionately, reaching over to squeeze her waist. “What kind of job?”

“Diplomacy.” Gamora started poking around in the sink. “We really need to remind Groot to wash his own dishes.”

“Aw, those are the most boring kind,” Peter grumbled, leaning against the counter. He yawned, unable to help himself. “But I guess we can’t say no, can we?”

“Do you want to say no to twenty-five thousand units?” Gamora replied, smirking. Peter’s eyes widened in surprise.

“And suddenly, I’m awake,” he said, grinning mischievously in return. “So what do we gotta do?”

“Convince a brother-sister pair of self-absorbed monarchs with too many weapons on their hands to sell them to us instead of the Baluurian militia. At least, we better, or we may have an intergalactic war to deal with instead,” she replied, stepping directly in front of Peter. She stood on her toes, reaching around his head to open the cabinet behind him in search of a clean mug, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her middle to keep her steady.

“That don’t sound so bad. There’s gotta be a catch,” Peter reasoned.

Gamora winced in anticipation, closing the cabinet door and lowering herself back down so she and Peter were at eye level. “To put it nicely…these monarchs have a bit of a taste for unique individuals.”

“And by ‘unique’, you mean - ”

“You.”

“And by ‘taste’, you mean - ”

“…sexual interest.” Gamora smiled apologetically. “What can I say? A man of your reputation is somehow more desirable than he should be, Star-Lord.”

“Hey,” he chuckled, then frowned when he realized the implications. “Wait, so I gotta bat some eyelashes in the direction of these people so they don’t start a war? All just ‘cos, what, I’m a half-Celestial who don’t even got his powers anymore?”

“Basically,” Gamora admitted. “But you have to be careful. The whole situation is more delicate than I’m making it sound. Besides, if our relationship was known to the public - ”

“Oh god, your sister would come back just so she could staple my face to my - ”

“Exactly.” Gamora patted him on the chest in reassurance. “I’ll keep an eye out for you, Peter, but don’t worry about offending my sensitivities. I trust you, both as my leader and my boyfriend. Do what you have to do, and I won’t hold anything against you. So…what should we tell the Nova Corps?”

Peter gritted his teeth, sighing. “Tell ‘em we’re on our way.”______

Of all the Guardians, Rocket especially seemed to take delight in the nature of the mission once it was explained to him, snickering gleefully in the co-pilot’s seat the whole way there. “Who knew you were such a commodity, Quill?”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I was super popular with the - sorry, Gamora,” Peter said sheepishly, sinking into his seat. He didn’t need to look her way to know she was glaring daggers at him. “You’re the most incredible woman in the galaxy and I - ”

“Save it, Peter,” she interrupted with a sigh, waving him off. “Mantis, can you read the brief again?”

“Lord Araki and Lady Aelsa rule over the richest region of Protaris,” Mantis recited diligently, scrolling down the screen. “The Protar are known for indulging in state-of-the-art technology, luxury goods, and weaponry, but do not engage in war themselves. Lady Aelsa recently met and befriended a Baluurian senator who is known to favor war over negotiation, and she wants to sell weapons to their militia in exchange for drilling rights to their mines, which produce rare gemstones that are most often sought after for jewelry.”

“So this idiot wants to start a war so she can have a pretty necklace?” Rocket snorted. “And I thought Quill made a stupid trade when he sold one of our spare engine batteries for playing cards.”

“They were Terran baseball cards, and I hadn’t seen any of ‘em in twenty-eight years!” Peter said defensively.

“Those men were hardly worth admiring, Quill,” Drax protested. “Why would you want to fight with wooden bats? They’re flimsy and would break instantly upon impact!”

“Baseball isn’t about fighting - oh, forget it,” Peter muttered. “Go on, Mantis.”

“Nova Prime claimed that both Lord Araki and Lady Aelsa are big fans of us, especially Peter,” Mantis continued with an impish grin. “So she recommended that Peter should charm them into selling the weapons to us instead by claiming we can give them access to the Nova records in return.”

“Because if there’s anything Lord Araki loves more than luxury goods, it’s intel on his rivals,” Gamora added, eyes narrowing a little at the smug-looking portrait on the screen in front of her. “We won’t really be giving them anything valuable, just false hope, and the Corps officers will take care of the conflict in Baluur long before Lady Aelsa talks to the senator again.”

“As long as we aren’t liable for anything that happens after that,” Peter said, shuddering. “We don’t need a repeat of what happened when we accidentally crossed Queen Veranke.”

“That was mostly your fault!” Rocket exclaimed.

“I am Groot,” Groot mumbled in agreement, barely looking up from his tablet.

“Lean back, Groot, you’re too close to the screen,” Gamora scolded. He scoffed in return.

“I’d like to point out that it was Drax that knocked the statue over, I just happened to be standin’ next to it - ”

“We are arriving!” Mantis interrupted quickly. Gamora huffed out a sigh of relief, rubbing at her temples.

Lord Araki and Lady Aelsa’s estate wasn’t the most extravagant place the Guardians had ever visited - the Sovereign planet still came to mind - but it was certainly ostentatious, decked out in rich mahogany wood and ivory columns, silky tile floors and beautiful damask walls. They were greeted by a butler and led into an old-fashioned parlor room, and were politely asked to sit on a plush fainting couch while they waited.

“Imagine needing a ceiling this tall!” Rocket exclaimed in awe, his voice resonating off the walls. “They wanna grow trees in here or somethin’?” Groot glanced around the room before shrugging and turning back to his device.

“I guess I should do most of the talking, right?” Peter mumbled to Gamora, squeezing her hand briefly, more to reassure himself than anything else.

“I have a feeling you’re the only one they want to talk to. Inviting the rest of us was a formality,” Gamora whispered back, eyeing the fanciful portraits hanging over the fireplace with derision. “From what I’ve read, they’re more clever than they look. If you’re too obvious, if you talk about the Baluurian deal right away, we’ll be in far more trouble than necessary.”

“C’mon, knowing you? You’ve already got five different exit strategies planned out in that badass brain of yours,” Peter said, tapping her affectionately on the forehead. Gamora couldn’t help but grin in return, leaning into the touch. At the sound of heels clacking against the floor, however, she quickly withdrew her hand from his and lifted her head before they could see.

“Guardians!” They all winced at the sheer volume; it wasn’t surprising that they were hearing their hosts before seeing them. Two individuals came gliding into the room, grinning bright, toothy grins. Their skin was a pale lavender color, their hair rendered in deep plum, and their eyes were blindingly violet; even their clothes were purple, heavy ornate robes with gold trim. They were both quite tall, as tall as Peter, with strikingly angular faces and long limbs. The woman, presumably Lady Aesla, extended her hand first. “It’s an honor to receive you in our humble abode.”

They all got to their feet, taking turns to shake hands with them both. “It’s an honor to be here, Lady Aelsa, Lord Araki,” Peter said, smiling easily. “We’ve heard so much about the great work you’ve been doing here on Protaris. The, uh, the education initiative that you funded last month, with that big charity ball? Inspired.”

Lady Aelsa trilled in delight. “Well, aren’t you a charmer?” she said, beaming. “It’s a shame, if I knew you knew of us, I would have invited you. It really was quite fabulous - we had performers come all the way from Klyntar, and a drink fountain that went all the way to the ceiling filled with rare Majesdanian wine. No expenses were spared!”

“How about the education initiative?” Gamora asked. “How much money went into that?”

Lady Aelsa blinked. “What’s that, hon?” Gamora had to bite her lip to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“You’ll be joining us for dinner tonight, won’t you?” Lord Araki said lightly. “I hope you don’t mind, we’ve invited plenty of our friends - or perhaps I should be more modest, they’re just acquaintances, really - who are also huge fans of your work.”

“That sounds great. I love meeting new people,” Peter said cheerfully, and at least that wasn’t too much of a falsehood. Gamora had a feeling that otherwise, they would all have to lie through their teeth to get through the rest of the evening. “Who should we be expecting?”

“We can’t spoil all the fun now, can we, Mister Quill?” Lord Araki teased. “But we’ll give you a tour of the estate in the meantime, and then we’ll take you to the guest quarters so you can freshen up before dinner.” Gamora and Rocket silently exchanged dubious looks behind Peter’s back.

The tour was surprisingly much more pleasant than anticipated, and Gamora felt slightly guilty for having judged the siblings so harshly. They were a little vapid, sure, but they seemed to have good intentions, though going by their dealings with the Baluurian senator, they weren’t the best with realizing long-term consequences. It turned out that Lady Aelsa wanted to use the gemstones to open manufacturing plants in the poorer areas of Protaris and stimulate the job economy (“With a living wage, of course!” Lord Araki had interjected. “We can’t have our citizens going cold and hungry. Our economists are studying the areas now to understand what sort of resources they’re currently lacking.”). That, Gamora could definitely admire.

Near the end of the tour, Lady Aelsa pulled Gamora a little ways away from the rest of the group as Lord Araki continued on leading them through the gardens. “You’ve been such an inspiration to me, Gamora,” Lady Aelsa murmured almost shyly. “I read about you…your dark past…oh, I couldn’t ever survive such an ordeal. But you’re strong, aren’t you? And brave, so brave.”

“I don’t know about that,” Gamora replied modestly. “But thank you, Lady Aelsa.”

“Beautiful, too,” Lady Aelsa continued, threading her fingers through Gamora’s dark hair. “It’s a wonder Mister Quill hasn’t tried to snatch you up for himself. I know I would if I had the chance.”

“That sounds violent…’snatching’,” Gamora said slowly. “Besides, I think being in a relationship in our line of work can be messy.”

“I can imagine,” Lady Aelsa said sympathetically. “Gosh, I’d be worried just trying to protect the universe with my brother by my side. He’s a sensitive soul, you know? And if I had to work alongside a lover…well, I wouldn’t be able to take my eye off them without constantly wondering if they were okay.”

Gamora swallowed. Yes, she and Peter had plenty of moments like that, and it wasn’t pleasant to dwell on them. “I worry about Peter regardless of our relationship to each other. I worry about all of them.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it, honey,” Lady Aelsa said worriedly. “I’m sure you do. And I suppose you think I’m a bit of a coward, hiding behind money and nice things, throwing it at other people to make them solve the world’s problems.”

Gamora softened, patting her arm. “We do what we can with what we have. I’m glad you use your resources for good, Lady Aelsa. There are plenty out there who don’t.”

“This house was our father’s,” Lady Aelsa sighed, gesturing around them. “He was your typical wealthy man - all he wanted was to have it all to himself. In fact, we grew up with far more servants and luxuries than you see here. I would sell it, move into something that doesn’t require so much maintenance, but as much as I despised my father’s values, there’s too much sentiment here, you know? And Araki, he’s a nostalgic man.”

“So is Peter,” Gamora said, glancing up ahead. She could see the two of them conversing by the fountain, with Araki smiling as Peter was probably recounting some dramatic story of one of their past missions. Gamora turned away before her fondness for him became obvious, now that she was witnessing Lady Aelsa’s startlingly strong perception firsthand. “Should we head back now?”______

“You and Lady Aelsa seemed pretty cozy,” Peter teased once the Guardians were alone in their respective rooms. “Should you be the one to swing her instead?”

“If necessary,” Gamora shrugged, sinking onto her bed. Though they weren’t staying overnight, the siblings had been kind enough to set them up in the guest quarters for some privacy, dividing them into pairs. Neither seemed too fazed by Peter and Gamora wanting to share a room. “She mentioned it was a shame you haven’t, quote, ‘snatched me up for yourself’.”

“Did she now?” Peter smirked, walking over to stand between Gamora’s legs. He leaned down so they were eye-to-eye, his nose barely brushing against hers. “I have to agree. What was I thinking?”

“I don’t ever know what you’re thinking, so you tell me,” Gamora murmured, winding her arms around Peter’s neck.

“I’m thinkin’…that you’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.” Peter kissed her deeply, bending slightly so he could wrap his arms around her middle. Before he could lower her onto her back, though, maybe take things a little further, Gamora reluctantly broke the kiss.

“And you for me. But unfortunately, we’re going to have to pretend otherwise for the next few hours, aren’t we?” The corners of her mouth quirked upwards in mirth as she slowly unwound her legs from where she had hooked them around his waist. “So don’t get any ideas, Peter.”

He groaned, taking a step back. “Fine, fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself. But I feel like we should be worried about the other people showing up. How do we know they aren’t gonna try to persuade her in some other direction?”

“We don’t,” Gamora said simply, leaning back onto her hands. “So you’ll have to do what you do best - improvise.”

Another hour passed before the Guardians made their way into the formal dining room, wearing their best clothes (in Drax’s case, this meant pants without cargo pockets) and tightest smiles. Hand-shaking and stilted greetings commenced soon after, with Gamora noting that most of the siblings’ guests were politicians and social elite, the kind that didn’t get invited to Nova Corps events very often because of one scandal or another. In other words, outcasts that were desperate to become part of the in-crowd, just like Aelsa and Araki.

“Alright, now that we’re actually seeing ‘em - you worried about any of these people?” Peter muttered under his breath once the Guardians took their seats.

“More concerned about our own safety if Aelsa and Araki see through us,” Gamora whispered back, her eyes scanning down the line. “Don’t charm them too much.” Instead of cracking another joke, Peter instead patted her reassuringly on the leg.

“Do you two have a secret you’d like to share with the rest of us?” Lord Araki called from the head of the table.

Peter withdrew his hand before anyone could see. “Just discussing our plans for the weekend,” he replied lightly. “Nova Prime’s expecting us on Xandar for some meetings. Regulations, jurisdiction, boring stuff.”

“Oh, I imagine you all must live very exciting lives,” one of the bright-eyed socialites gushed. “I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I do love following the stories of all your adventures whenever I can.”

“It’s not glamorous work, you know,” Gamora warned. “The news articles like to cover our ‘cleanest’ jobs, the kind that don’t hurt anyone or anything. It’s when there are casualties that the cracks start to show, but never in the public eye.”

The others started to look vaguely uncomfortable, exchanging nervous glances as they spooned soup into their mouths without another word. Lady Aelsa, however, smiled encouragingly. “It’s a blessing to have you around, Guardians. Believe me, I’m a supporter of the Nova Corps and the other forces out there, but there’s something so…grounded about you. Something real. You know what I mean?”

“Oh sure, if you mean that I literally eat dirt when my rocket boots malfunction sometimes,” Peter said jokingly, and the entire table laughed. “But seriously, glad we can be of service. We all were going through some difficult stuff before we met, and even though we’re still strugglin’ now, we got each other. Couldn’t ask for a better team.” There was a brief pause as the Guardians smiled at each other - even Rocket looked genuinely moved - before another dinner guest cut in.

“Doesn’t it get tedious, though, having to check in with the Corps? I’ve had a little run-in or two with them before, and they seem so strict,” he drawled.

“They mean well,” Peter shrugged. “And we have a good relationship with ‘em, not about to mess up a good thing.” His eyes briefly flickered over to Araki. “Y’know, they trust us enough to give us access to some pretty interesting stuff.”

“Like what?” Lord Araki asked immediately.

“Records, secrets. Can’t share it unless you’re part of their circle, unfortunately,” Peter said, winking. Araki’s breath hitched a little in response. Aelsa audibly sighed in admiration.

“We must know how to get into that circle, then,” yet another socialite declared. “Won’t you tell us, Mister Quill?”

“They’re picky folk, the Nova Corps,” Peter hedged, twirling his spoon around the empty bowl. “You’d have to do something pretty massive to get their attention. The right kind of massive, of course.”

“You tease us, Mister Quill,” Lord Araki said, chuckling.

Peter tilted his head consideringly, his eyes flickering back and forth between the siblings. “Oh, I can do a lot more than that.” Gamora squirmed in her seat as both Aelsa and Araki’s eyes darkened with desire.

The rest of dinner passed by with relative ease, the conversation moving more towards the Guardians’ many missions and mishaps, mostly stories of Peter’s greatest accomplishments, some of which they had to re-word as to not allude to his and Gamora’s relationship. After all, many of his successes were in tandem with hers, many of his motivations stemmed from his desire to keep her safe. Many of their most dangerous jobs were immediately followed with them crawling into bed together for days, curling around each other as if to reassure themselves that the other was still alive, still healthy, still happy.

After dessert was served, Lord Araki called the entire group into the lounge for drinks, insisting everyone get comfortably tipsy before leaving the estate for the night. Wordlessly, Gamora motioned for Peter to position himself in the large, cushy armchair by the fireplace, best suited for intimate conversation away from the rest of the group. Not two minutes after Peter settled in, she was proven right, as Lord Araki sank down into the chair opposite him.

“You look lonely over here, Mister Quill,” he said. “But you seem like the type to enjoy conversation.”

“Nothing’s better than booze and good company, and it looks like I’m getting both,” Peter replied, holding up his glass. Lord Araki smiled, pleased.

“Forgive me if I’m pressing too far, but I’m so fascinated by what you said, about the Nova Corps,” Lord Araki simpered. “You see, Aelsa and I aren’t taken very seriously by the higher-ups. They think us fanciful and shallow, our reputation built on money and parties. But we have ambition, you see, and having these kinds of connections, they really will benefit our people.”

“I hear you,” Peter said, feeling genuinely sympathetic for them. He knew what it was like to have a reputation that entered the room before he did. “You know, there’s a couple things I bet you could do to get in their good books.”

“Tell me,” Lord Araki said, enchanted. He leaned forward, draping himself over the armrest like a child listening to a bedtime story.

“Don’t do things for publicity,” Peter replied simply. “They can smell a good ol’ PR campaign right away. You think they’d give a crap about the Guardians if all we did was go around saving people’s pets to get our picture in the paper? It’s about real sacrifice, real consequences. Not saying you gotta risk your lives like we do, but little fluff pieces don’t get you nowhere.”

“I see,” Lord Araki hummed thoughtfully, glancing across the room at his sister.

“And make a real stance. Somethin’ to fight for,” Peter continued. “You wanna be about the environment? Cut back on land development. You wanna be about education? Improve the school systems. You wanna be about peace? Don’t be a part of war.”

“Peace,” Lord Araki said slowly like he’d never heard the word before. “What are you suggesting, Mister Quill?”

Peter smiled. Bingo. “Look, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but I know Protaris’s got a whole lotta weapons they ain’t using right now. They end up in the wrong hands, and the whole universe could be at risk - again. Do the right thing with ‘em, Lord Araki. Give them to something or someone who’ll use them responsibly.”

“Like you?” Lord Araki leaned in even closer, the violets of his eyes growing more and more intense with every move.

“Exactly like me,” Peter murmured, grinning. “You’ve read the stories, you know we’re decent people. Let us free you of the burden of ownership, and I bet the Nova Corps will reward you just the way you like.”

“You’ve gone and twisted my arm, Mister Quill,” Lord Araki said, breathless. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of a charmer?”

“I’ve been told,” Peter teased. Before Araki could make his last move, the click-clack of heels against wood startled them out of their intense gaze. They both turned and looked up.

“Won’t you give me a minute with Mister Quill, Araki? I have so much to ask him about,” Lady Aelsa said, reaching over to fuss at Lord Araki’s collar. He scowled, swatting her hand away and disappearing back into the crowd without another word. Triumphant, she sat in her brother’s place. “I hope he wasn’t too much of a nuisance. I love him dearly, but he’s emotional, that one.”

“I could say the same about myself,” Peter admitted with a laugh. “What did you want to ask me, Lady Aelsa?”

Instead of replying right away, though, she leaned in closer. Unlike her brother, there was something far more skeptical in her gaze, far more considering. Finally, she leaned back and said cooly, “How long have you and Gamora been romantically involved, and were you ever planning on telling us?”

Peter froze. “I…didn’t catch that, sorry, could you - ”

“Don’t bat your eyelashes at me, Mister Quill, it’s written all over both of your faces,” Lady Aelsa hissed. “I saw you pull your hand away from hers when we first came into the room, touch her leg at the beginning of dinner. I see the way you look at each other, how dewy-eyed you both get. Not to mention the fact that you’re sharing a room, and she’s been staring at you ever since my brother sat down, and hasn’t looked away since.” Peter whipped around to see Gamora stood at the opposite end of the room, watching them with a steely-eyed coldness that he only ever saw when she was truly upset. “So tell me again, Mister Quill, how long have you been together, and were you going to tell us?”

He turned back, sighing. Being optimistic about a mission never seemed to get him anywhere. “Two years, and…no,” he admitted. “Our relationship isn’t public for a lot of reasons, okay, it wasn’t like we were only out to trick you guys. We’ve both got people after us, and if they knew the kind of leverage they could get out of one of us by hurting the other? Just…oh, man.”

“You’ve hurt my brother by making him believe there was a chance.” Lady Aelsa drew to her full height, glaring at him. “And for that, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. All of you.”

“Lady Aelsa, please, just - ” Peter felt someone’s fingers grasp tightly onto his shoulder. He let out a startled cry, turning around to stare into the face of what he presumed was one of their guards, a broad, intimidating man in uniform whose muscles put Drax to shame. “Hey, uh, this has been a huge misunderstanding - whoa - ”

He was promptly flung across the room, crashing into a side table and scattering its contents, his head slamming into the floor. Gamora immediately jumped into action, reaching for her switchblade and running to his side. “Peter!” she cried. Two more guards advanced on her, blocking her way, but she made quick work of them by knocking them out. She turned to see more coming her way, with Lady Aelsa and Lord Araki stood by the fireplace together, arms folded across their chests. “What is this?!”

“You’ve embarrassed and disrespected us in our own house,” Lady Aelsa growled. “You came here with intentions to seduce us for your own purposes, haven’t you?”

“Be reasonable, lady, you’re the one tryin’ to sell guns to a frickin’ militia!” Rocket exclaimed, the remaining Guardians moving to stand with Gamora, crowding near an unconscious Peter.

“Get them out of here,” Lord Araki ordered. The guards didn’t have to be told twice, sprinting across the room to attack, while the guests screamed in terror as they fled the building. Drax and Rocket immediately sprung into action by Gamora’s side, while Mantis tried her best to grapple their heads and calm them down - her combat training with Gamora still needed some work - and Groot half-heartedly wrapped a few of them up in branches, flinging them around like ragdolls.

“Listen to us, Lady Aelsa, Lord Araki!” Gamora shouted over the sounds of battle, rendering another handful of guards unconscious in quick succession. She had no desire to hurt them any worse unless she absolutely had to. “Let us explain ourselves, and maybe we can leave here in good faith.”

“Good faith? You’ve come to manipulate us,” Lady Aelsa said accusingly, pointing a long purple fingernail in Gamora’s direction. “We’re done listening to you, Guardians.”

“Hold them off, I need to move Peter somewhere safe,” Gamora told Drax, who nodded sharply, roaring loudly as he tore through the crowd of oncoming guards. She slid underneath a guard’s legs and practically crawled the rest of her way across the floor to Peter, lifting his head into her lap to briefly check him for bleeding or bumps. When she was certain he was just unconscious, she hefted him into her arms and ran to the furthest corner of the room, setting him down carefully. “Peter?” she said softly, pushing his hair out his eyes. “We need that silver tongue of yours, so if you could just wake up…” He mumbled incoherently under his breath, his head lolling to one side.

Sighing, Gamora got to her feet and turned back towards the battle. It seemed that the Protar siblings were running out of guards, though their fury was still written all over their faces. She jogged back in their direction, neatly weaving through the fight, bursting through the crowd right in front of their faces. Both leapt back with a surprised gasp. “What do you think you’re doing?” Lady Aelsa exclaimed.

Gamora drew her sword, holding its tip right beneath their chins. “I implore you to listen to me before anyone else gets hurt,” she snarled. “You’ve scared your guests, you’ve put unnecessary stress on my team, and you’ve injured my boyfriend. This pointless fight, this childishness, it ends now.” She tilted the sword, grazing the underside of Lord Araki’s jawline. “Call them off. Call them off, or I make you bleed.”

He swallowed. “Guards, fall back,” he called hoarsely. Gamora could vaguely hear the sounds of heavy footfalls and the clattering of weapons falling to the floor behind her, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the siblings. “We’re listening.”

“Good.” Gamora swiftly sheathed her sword again, straightening up. “After all, we came here to prevent war, not start one.”

“What do you mean?” Lady Aelsa said nervously.

“We know of your friendship with the Baluurian senator, Lady Aelsa, and we came here to stop you from selling weapons to them,” Gamora said. “Their militia intends to invade unstable planets and seek out personnel for their drug trafficking rings, people so desperate for money that they’ll do anything to make it. You both said you wanted your people to make an honest living, to do honest work and live honest lives. If those weapons end up with the Baluurians, there will be more people out there who won’t get that choice.”

Aelsa and Araki exchanged considering glances, their shoulders slumping a little, hands unfurling from their sides. “Why didn’t you tell us in the first place?” Lord Araki asked. “We just wanted the mines, but if we had known about their cruelty, I would have never gotten into bed with the Baluurians in the first place.”

Gamora sighed. “In all honesty, the Nova Corps suggested we convince you through…other means. I suppose as the Guardians of the Galaxy, we’re known for our personal touch. I agree, we should have just been direct with you. It would have saved us from doing all of…this.” She gestured fruitlessly around her.

“Especially since you ended up tricking out your boyfriend!” Lady Aelsa exclaimed, scandalized. “We would never - I mean, if we knew about your - ”

“There are plenty of reasons we keep our relationship private,” Gamora said firmly. “What’s mine is mine. And I protect what’s mine. So I hope we’ve reached an understanding, Lady Aelsa, Lord Araki. But if you ever lay a hand on Peter again, I’ll raise my sword first, ask questions later.” Her brow quirked. “Do you get my meaning?”

Lady Aelsa gulped. “Yes, of course. So what do you recommend we do with the weapons?”______

Peter stirred to find his vision was obscured by a familiar head of dark hair. Grinning sleepily, he reached over to affectionately pat her head. “G’morning, Gamora, how - wait. I don’t remember going to bed.”

“That’s because you didn’t.” Gamora rolled over to look at him, smiling fondly. “One of Lady Aelsa’s guards knocked you out because she discovered the truth.”

“Oh, crap,” Peter groaned, throwing his forearm across his eyes. “What happened after that?”

“The usual. Everything delved into absolute chaos, and I had to fix it,” Gamora remarked dryly, running her fingers through his hair. “You feel alright? No concussion or dizziness?”

“Little sore, but I’m alright.” He rubbed his eyes and sank into his pillow. “Everyone else okay? And did we get the job done? Or are we out twenty-five thousand units?”

“Are you doubting me, Peter Quill?” Gamora teased, lowering herself on top of Peter, pressing him into the mattress. “The others are fine. And I convinced Lady Aelsa and Lord Araki to give us the weapons. In exchange, I don’t report their missing finances to the Nova Corps.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, when did we learn about that?”

“We didn’t, I did,” Gamora insisted. “While you were flirting with Araki, I asked around. It turns out, the dinner guests were such big fans of the Guardians, I barely had to say a word to get them to talk. Helps that you spent ten minutes making eyes at him.”

“Aw, it’s okay, Gamora. You know I only got eyes for you,” Peter grinned cheekily. Gamora groaned.

“I was barely paying attention, don’t stroke your own ego more than you have to,” she scolded.

“That’s not what I heard,” Peter sing-songed. “I saw your face near the end there, you were totally jealous.”

“Of what? Of you paying attention to someone else for a brief moment in time?” Her voice lowered, growing huskier in a way that made Peter’s entire body stir with arousal. “I’m the one who gets to share your bed, who gets to touch you, who gets to call you mine.” She tugged at the collar of his T-shirt, revealing a bruise she’d left on him just last night. She ducked her head to kiss the mark, her teeth just barely scraping against his skin. He shivered. “What do I have to be jealous of?”

“You’re right,” Peter said, his eyes darkening with pure want. His arms went around her waist, pulling her body flush against his. “You don’t got nothing to be jealous of, ‘cos you were so badass today, I’ve got a reward for you that I think you’ll like.”

#ask #Anonymous #starmora #starmora fic #myfic #marvel #sorry for the super long delay anon!! wasn't quite sure if this was what you wanted #i hope you enjoy regardless :)#been a while since i've filled a prompt but there's plenty more coming

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maculategiraffe · 6 years

Text

So I'm doing an Institute playthrough, because a) I never have and b) I wanted X6-88 to love me. So I never joined the Railroad at all, and I returned the runaway synths at Bunker Hill to the Institute, and then I went and got X6-88 immediately and bent all my energies to building affinity with him.

so I just got him to declare his love, and for the record:

things X6-88 likes me to do: mod weapons, mod armor, hack terminals, kill or turn in Institute traitors, talk down human Institute traitors, use my official authority to have official mercy on repentant human Institute traitors

things X6-88 does not like me to do: do drugs, goof off (say "Glory be to Atom!", play along with the robots at Dry Rock Gulch, otherwise act silly or in ways that he presumably considers beneath my dignity), hesitate for reasons of mercy on synths or non-Institute humans, betray the authority structure of the Institute for idealistic reasons

thing X6-88 HATES me to do: betray the authority structure of the Institute for material gain

things X6-88 LOVES me to do: that's an odd one. Far Harbor spoilers.

See, I reported Acadia to the Institute, cos I'm a heartless Institute motherfucker. And they were like "cool thanks for telling us we'll get right on it." And X6-88 loved that-- it was the first thing I'd ever done that he loved, rather than merely liked, and I admit to a rush of emotion at the sight of the notification.

And then the Institute scientist I'd told popped up in Far Harbor with a relay platform and was like "waiting on your order!" and I gave the order and we moved on Acadia, which X6 also loved.

But then while we were fighting to subdue the synths a little thing popped up saying "Speak to Mr. Nakano" and I was like "oh fuck! Kasumi!" So I reloaded my saved game so I could get Kasumi back to her house before reclaiming the runaways, because I figured even my dick pro-Institute Sole who considers synths property and their desire for freedom a programming flaw would balk at getting a human girl killed in the crossfire.

But Kasumi was insisting on "seeing things through here" before going home, so I went to DiMA and was like "OK let's finish this questline" and, as is his wont, he was like "yeah that horrible thing I did that I couldn't bear the memory of, I think we should do THAT thing again, immediately" and I was like "yes yes whatever I don't care about synths or Children of Atom either one, by all means let's murder the latter and repurpose the former"--

--and X6-88 LOVED that.

I mean, it's probably the third most ruthless thing I've done in the course of this playthrough, and X6-88 wasn't there when I recall-coded the Bunker Hill runaways, or presumably he would have loved that too. But it also doesn't actually serve the Institute's purpose-- it's completely tangential thereunto-- which makes me think X6 loved it sheerly for its ruthlessness. For me demonstrating that I don't give a shit about synths and see them as merely tools and pawns.

(Which makes me want to write a fic where DiMA floats his plan and X6 is like "ha, nice!" and DiMA has a Your Approval Fills Me With Shame moment and realizes how awful the replacement idea is and how he's more imbued with Institute ideals than he ever realized and unwittingly he's been repeating the cycle of dehumanization. And he gathers all the synths of Acadia together and confesses what he did to Captain Avery and they all weigh in like "whoa, that's fucked up, so that's what actually happened to Jane?" and DiMA is like "I'm no better than Them, I am no longer worthy to be your leader, I shall diminish and go into the west" and eventually they're like "OK drama llama, let's not get carried away, you're still one of us" and him and Faraday smooch, of course. )

So then we did DiMA's awful plan and I got Kasumi home and then went to the Institute scientist and gave the order to move on Acadia and as coursers and assault troops relayed into Far Harbor X6-88 with stars in his eyes was like, "Sir, do you have a moment?" and I was like "Absolutely I do, my ice-hearted murder son"

and THAT'S why Nora Bowman couldn't handle having X6-88 around until very recently and after a bunch of shit had transpired on all sides, because god DAYum, X6

#fallout 4 #x6-88 #far harbor

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its-love-u-asshole · 6 years

Text

It’s All in the Delivery [fic]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima Kei is forced to work part time at a pizza parlor, and his boyfriend is way too thrilled about it.

Rating: E

Tags: just regularly scheduled kurotsuki shenanigans tbh, Tsukki is a pizza delivery boy and Kuroo has a field day with it, beware of bad jokes

Note: Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for checking this over! This is my gift to @heartywrites for the @kurotsukiexchange <3 I’m sorry it’s so late, but I did have to step in last minute ^^ I hope you enjoy!

AO3

First order of business: Kuroo Tetsurou was the worst.

He also happened to be Kei's boyfriend, his serious boyfriend. Like, love of his life, future husband type of serious.

Yeah, shit was that fucked.

Second: Kuroo Tetsurou was the ultimate worst because he ordered pizza at 3:30 in the afternoon like some sort of uncultured heathen, right during Kei's delivery shift.

Because again, ultimate worst.

Now that the facts were all sorted in Kei's head, he could go back to regretting his life choices. Kei asked himself everyday why he'd do this to himself, but of course, the answer always ended up being that he loved Kuroo. Stupid. He didn't deserve it.

Kei could already picture his cheeky grin, and Kei wished more than anything to be able to just fling the steaming hot pizza right in his boyfriend's face.

Speaking of pizza, it was no doubt getting cold as he stood motionless on Kuroo's doorstep. Good.

Kei glared at the door in front of him, tempted to turn around and just quit his damn job. Kuroo was no doubt standing behind said door, geared up and ready to unleash his terrible jokes and innuendos on Kei. He was probably leaning against the side wall too, trying to look suave as usual.

The ultimate ultimate worst.

It's not worth it, Kei would tell himself. Just turn back, forget the pizza, and drive away.

If only things were so simple. But no, he needed the extra money. While Kei wasn't so unlucky to be working at a pizza parlor full time, he was between jobs at the moment. The company he'd gotten hired at had yet to finish renovating the new offices, so of course, he couldn't start his job until next month. He'd already quit his old and crappy tech job, so he'd needed some way to stay alive in the meantime.

Hence, the pizza delivery gig, ugly ass uniform and all (seriously though, this yellow was not his color. It wasn't anyone's color).

For Kei, the job was an annoyance at most, but for Kuroo, it was like a blessing from the gods above. Asshat.

Kei had walked into Kuroo's apartment the day after getting the job, dressed in the uniform, and his whole life had gone downhill.

Kuroo had looked up from his phone, and had given Kei the once over, the ideas no doubt already stewing in his demon mind. Kei was powerless to do anything about what was to come next, and he closed his eyes, ready to be hit with it.

And yeah, it was just as bad, if not worse than he'd imagined.

Kuroo smirked slowly, eyes sharp and dangerous, glinting with mischief, which was a bad sign for anyone involved. In this case, Kei. "Well well, are you the pizza man? Because you sure can deliver."

Perhaps the worst part of that, if it could get worse, was that deep down Kei knew Kuroo had only just begun.

And he'd been right.

Hell, that had been tame for Kuroo. If only he'd known.

Like clockwork, once a week, Kuroo would order a pizza, and Kei would have to fucking bring it to him (seriously? Kuroo has a car dammit), and he'd be received with a pick up line bad enough to make him want to swear abstinence.

"Babe, I know it's cheesy, but I think we're grate together."

"Have you eaten? Cause I can give you a pizz-a dis dick."

"Do you like Pizza Hut? Because I'd stuff your crust."

"Like that pizza, my tongue will go straight to your thighs."

God. Why this?

Kei definitely inched closer and closer to denying Kuroo sex with each awful line. But he never did. Because Kei was weak, and he had no one to blame but himself for this.

You could've worked at the grocery store, but you got greedy. You wanted tips. Now the only tip you're getting is--ah dammit now Kuroo has me doing it!

The sad part was that usually Kuroo actually managed to make him laugh, and they'd...sometimes end up making out. Not because of the jokes though. Kei had standards dammit.

Just...sometimes he missed his boyfriend at work okay? Not that he'd ever let Kuroo know that. Kuroo didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve a lot of things but alas, here Kei was.

Kei sighed to himself, resigned to his fate.

He hid a faint smile in his hand as he finally knocked on the door, humoring his boyfriend. If he'd wanted, he could've just used his own key, but Kuroo would surely whine about it. Loser.

And as Kei suspected, the lock turned right away, and the door swung open, since Kuroo had no doubt been waiting behind the door like an idiot, probably giddy with his newest pick up line.

Kei was dating a middle schooler apparently, and he didn't even really hate it. What had happened to him?

He'd gone through the pain of a long distance relationship and everything...

"Well, I sure hope this pizza comes with sausage."

...just so Kuroo could say stupid shit like that.

Kei glared as his boyfriend winked at him, throwing the pizza into Kuroo's hands as he crossed the threshold into the apartment. Okay, so that was one bonus. He got a bit of a break when he delivered to Kuroo's place, and his co-workers totally knew it. At least they never snitched to Kei's boss.

One day though, they too would get fed up with Kuroo's weekly order, since he always requested the 'hottest blond delivery boy you have.'

No shame, I swear.

"How should I know, you ordered it?" Kei said, taking off his work hat and flopping onto the couch. He'd only been working two hours, but honestly, that was enough.

He could only take so many shitty tips from rude customers or marinara stains on his sleeves.

Kuroo, good mood not faltering, tossed the pizza onto the table, completely forgotten as he made his way over to Kei.

And three...two...one...

Kuroo scooped him up in his arms, and yeah, Kei would admit it was nice. Kuroo's hugs were nice. Being with Kuroo was nice, pizza innuendos aside.

But then it happened.

Kuroo's hands started sliding far too low for the gesture to remain innocent, and Kei could already sense his boyfriend's smirk before he could see it. "Oh baby, you know I didn't mean the food. Now, let's say we just--"

Not so fast.

See, Kei was prepared for this, since he dealt with it every day. Kei grabbed Kuroo's hands as they neared his ass, pushing them away, and Kuroo actually groaned about it. Ha.

Maybe Kuroo was finally cracking. Granted, this was probably his fourth week of trying to seduce Kei during his work hours. Persistent bastard.

Kei fixed him with a glare that left no room for interpretation.

"For the last time, I'm not having sex with you in this uniform," Kei deadpanned, pleased at Kuroo's pout. "I refuse to indulge your bad porno scene kink."

Kuroo gasped, affronted, like Kei had accused him of cheating instead of wanting to bang him in his pizza delivery outfit.

When had it come to this?

"Sir, I can't believe you would think me so low," Kuroo admonished, but Kei wasn't having it.

"Well I do, so there's no use denying it," he replied, crossing his arms. He was still half in Kuroo's lap, but he hoped it didn't diminish his authority on the matter.

"My own boyfriend doubts me..."

Kei arched a brow, because if that wasn't the biggest load of crap he'd ever heard. Kei laughed lightly, playing dumb. "Oooh, I get it. So you don't wanna have sex with me right now."

"Oh no, I would like that very much please, and if you don't mind, I wanna set up the camera in the corner," Kuroo began, shameless. The raven threw up his hands in surrender as he continued. "Now, we don't actually have to film anything, I just think it adds to the drama you know?"

The silence which filled the room spoke volumes enough, but Kei knew his boyfriend wouldn't stop his endeavor until he got a real response.

Right...

Kei fixed his boyfriend with the most unamused look he could, and Kuroo's smile faltered in a way which was cute enough to make Kei nearly rethink his decision.

But, no.

"Seriously?" Kei asked, not hiding his displeasure.

"Is...that code for a yes?" Kuroo tried, one last time, and Kei knew he had to leave before it got any more pathetic than this.

Kei snorted, pushing Kuroo away after one final kiss before he made his way back to the door. He was probably going to be late, but whatever. "Maybe in your dreams," he said with a smirk, leaving Kuroo behind to mope.

Oh well, he'd make Kuroo forget all about it later that night, and he'd do it without being in this stupid uniform.

What was Kuroo thinking? As if he'd ever.

Except, as the days went by, he actually started to think about it.

That brilliant son of a bitch.

It had been two weeks since Kei's refusal for...whatever Kuroo had requested (could it even be called a kink? more like a breach of dignity), and the other hadn't brought it up at all. Which in all honesty, was normal.

Kuroo might've been obnoxious, but he was still a huge, considerate sap who Kei loved. If Kei had said no, Kuroo would respect his wishes. He'd stopped pushing it, completely content with dropping the subject. He still ordered his weekly pizza, because "midday Kei cuddles are essential" apparently, but otherwise, there were no indecent incidents beyond sloppy make-outs.

And maybe that was the problem.

The night after Kei had denied him, they'd had sex. Amazing as usual, because it was Kuroo, and Kei hardly had his complaints, but...

Since then they'd both been nothing short of swamped. Kei picked up extra shifts for the week in order to save up some extra money for a trip Kuroo wanted to go on for his birthday, and Kuroo's workload was no better. He'd been staying late at the office every night, getting home either after Kei had passed out, or too tired himself to do anything other than take off his tie.

In short, they hadn't exactly had any hands on time together lately. And yeah, two weeks wasn't terribly long, but Kei had needs.

And now, here he was, staring at Kuroo's weekly pizza order, and debating about jumping Kuroo's bones as soon as he opened the door.

That asshole.

Kei was actually considering having sex during his shift. Out on delivery. To Kuroo. Because of course, by some miracle, Kuroo was home for lunch.

Bullshit. It all smelled like bullshit.

But it didn't stop the fact that Kei was totally ready to do it. And seriously, why hadn't he before? Other than the fact that it was stupid, anyways. The idea didn't make him uncomfortable, and it was actually sort of funny. It would definitely be one to cross off their list...and sex with Kuroo was rarely something to be passed up. The only thing holding him back had been his pride, and that was slowly being flushed down the toilet as well.

I mean c'mon, you already work as a delivery boy. It can't get much worse.

But maybe it wasn't even about his pride. At least, not where his job was concerned...

Because see, while Kei's resolve dwindled more and more with each second, his knowledge of his boyfriend did not. He knew blaming Kuroo wasn't exactly fair, looking at the surface of the situation, but there might've been more to the story, which meant Kei just couldn't help it.

It was no secret the raven could be a bit of a schemer.

What if he'd purposefully been overzealous about the whole "sex while in uniform" thing just to put the idea in Kei's head? Then lo and behold, when Kei naturally said no, Kuroo would back off, lay back, and wait it out, his plan perfectly in motion. Eventually Kei wouldn't be able to hold himself back, and Kuroo would get bragging rights, since Kei would now be initiating everything.

Having the week of forced abstinence on top of things was just the icing on the cake which was Kuroo's fucked up plan, whether he anticipated that or not.

So, knowing all this, Kei should be smart about things.

Kei should not give in.

Kei should not act on his primal urges. And he most definitely should stop thinking about his boyfriend's hands all over him, gripping his hips and giving him 110% as he pounded Kei's ass.

Because those thoughts were bad.

Unnecessary.

He refused to let Kuroo have the last laugh and see his plan come to fruition.

As Kei slammed his car door shut, glaring at the pizza bag in the passenger seat, his hands gripped the steering wheel in his resolve.

Drop the pizza off, grab a quick kiss, leave.

Yeah. Simple enough, he thought, even as a surge of anticipation flowed through his body, and he tore out of the parking lot, pushing it away.

Nothing was going to happen, and that was final.

Except that was a bullshit lie.

Kuroo had barely opened the door when Kei forced his own way in, throwing the pizza on the nearby table because fuck, they both knew Kuroo never ate the damn thing until later.

"Hey, wh--" Kuroo was cut off by a searing kiss, and Kei drank in the startled moan he received for it. Kuroo may have been a conniving evil genius at times, but Kei had his own powers. Kuroo melted in his hands like putty, letting Kei coax out his tongue to play anyway he saw fit.

Kei's hand settled on his boyfriend's throat, applying just the slightest bit of pressure as their kiss got more intense. Kuroo growled into Kei's mouth, uncaring of the drool slipping from his mouth with each press of their lips. Before long, the loud smacks and whimpers filled the space, and only then did Kei actually have the sense to turn around and shut the damn door behind him.

Sorry neighbors. But well, back to business.

Kei used his hands to push Kuroo against the wall, pinning him there, and Kuroo joined in on their little dance quickly. His hands were on Kei's ass in an instant, squeezing with a grip so firm it had Kei gasping into another kiss.

It gave Kuroo the opportunity to do the one thing Kei had been dreading: talk.

Ever the multitasker, Kuroo busied himself with undoing Kei's belt as his breathless words filled the room. "Well, now this is what I call a delivery."

It was the last straw for Kei. After hundreds of lame lines, he was finally giving Kuroo what he wanted, but like hell would he be passive about it. In the next second, Kei was chucking his belt across the room (Kuroo was taking too damn long), and roughly got to work on Kuroo's until it too clattered against the hardwood.

"Shut. Up." Kei punctuated his statement with a tug to Kuroo's hair, the kind he liked, turning around so that he was leaning against Kuroo's chest. Mostly because he didn't want to see the smug look on Kuroo's face, but also because he could grind his ass right on Kuroo's half hard dick. "You...you planned this didn't you?"

"Well," Kuroo began, but the rest of his words broke apart in a groan when Kei rubbed against him, his clothed dick sliding between Kei's cheeks. (Look. Kei knew he had a nice ass, he also knew Kuroo was weak to it. All was fair here.)

"I don't wanna brag or anything," Kuroo breathed, and Kei could feel the smirk against his neck as Kuroo sucked on his pale skin. "But I do tend to get what I want with you. You're so good that way baby..."

Kei shivered at the praise despite himself, his hand coming up to pull Kuroo's hair again, bringing their lips together. Kuroo's hands tightened on Kei's hips before greedily pulling his boxers down to his thighs and exposing Kei's flushed cock.

Fuck, he was already so worked up, but at this point, he didn't give a shit how desperate he must look. Kuroo wasn't exactly in better shape, the outline of his dick straining the fabric of his underwear and moving against Kei's ass.

Just like Kei wanted.

Heh. It's the same both ways you know.

Kei would've loved to keep up their show of teasing until one of them broke, after all, foreplay should never be slept on. He loved being touched and played with until he couldn't take it anymore, until he was basically begging Kuroo to dick him down against the floor, but that would be for another time. He was still technically on the clock, and had wasted a good ten minutes already. Kei would have to get back to work soon, so if they wanted to get off, they'd better get going.

Which meant Kei could pull out the big guns, and the thought already had a little grin forming on his face. He pulled away from the kiss they were sharing, tongue flicking out against Kuroo's lips for good measure before delivering the final blow.

"And I always get what I want with you, babe," Kei said, biting his lip for extra effect. He hardly employed the use of pet names, but when he did, it was game over. "Now, give it to me."

He was being thrown onto the couch before he could so much as take another breath. Perfect.

Nothing could ruin this, not even the fact that he was still in his goddamn uniform, albeit with his shirt hiked up and his pants missing. Still. He would be regretting this later. Maybe. Probably.

Kei licked his lips as Kuroo pulled out his own cock from his boxers, kicking his pants to some poor forsaken corner. Kuroo stroked himself a few times, his cock hot and big in his hand. The precum beading at the head was practically begging for Kei to put his mouth around it, but there was no time.

Kei wanted to be fucked, no room for substitutions. He made a mental note to give Kuroo a mind numbing blowjob later though.

Kei wiggled his ass closer to Kuroo's hips as his boyfriend settled on the couch, more than ready to get on with things.

Kuroo laughed to himself, his hands gliding over Kei's milky thighs. "Too bad I didn't get notice beforehand, I would've set up the camera. You look so fucking hungry for it you know..."

"If you make one more reference to pizza, I'm leaving," Kei bit back, though the eagerness in his eyes probably didn't help give the threat any strength.

Kuroo laughed louder, sticking a pillow under Kei's hips until he was positioned adequately, spread open and giving Kuroo quite the view. "No, I don't think you will."

And the certainty of the statement had Kei flushing from adoration an embarrassment all at once. Kuroo was absolutely right, and the affection laced in his eyes as kissed Kei again, short and sweet, made Kei's heart soar.

"Alright then, I assume this has to be quick," Kuroo stated, pulling away and fishing for the lube he stored hidden in the couch cushions, other hand kneading Kei's ass.

"I didn't think you'd have a problem with that," Kei said, his voice teasing in the way which drove Kuroo insane, and then there was a hand connecting harshly with his ass cheek, the slap echoing into the small home.

Kei yelped, his dick twitching from the sudden spike of arousal, and he finally lost all sense of reason.

Now it was just want.

I want. I want. I want.

"Oh, believe me, I don't," Kuroo said, his eyes gleaming wickedly, and his lubed fingers began to prod at Kei's entrance.

After that, Kei was done. His mind was nothing more than a thick fog of desire, his body moving and reacting on its own. God, he's missed this so much. Why hadn't they done this before?

"Mm," Kei moaned, low and long, as Kuroo stretched him efficiently. One finger was followed by two, then three, each thrust pulling more and more debauched sounds out of Kei's mouth.

"Hey, c'mon," Kei urged, part of him still aware that time was very much against them. It seemed Kuroo was ahead of him though, and Kei cried out when he felt the head of Kuroo's cock press into him, silencing his complaints.

"Ah yeah, scream louder for me," Kuroo breathed, fully sheathing himself inside of Kei with little resistance. Kei knew it was most likely his extra horny brain making up shit, but he swore he could feel Kuroo pulse inside him, long and thick and everything Kei had been dreaming of for the past few days.

Kuroo seemed to read his mind.

He didn't give Kei the slightest of breathers, pounding into him with no sign of stopping. Kei's ass was probably turning red from how hard it was hitting Kuroo's thighs, but the burn was delicious, and Kei grabbed the armrest behind him for dear life when Kuroo began abusing his prostate.

Every thrust made Kei see stars, the pace never slowing no matter how much Kuroo's legs must've been straining to keep it up. But well, Kuroo was determined, and Kei loved him for it. Kei moaned shamelessly, his eyes glazing over and his hair sticking to his forehead. He felt like a mess, an amazing mess, and if he could've, he would've let Kuroo fuck him for the rest of the day.

Next time. Always next time.

The thought just brought Kei closer to the edge, his toes curling and his legs locking around Kuroo's waist. His boyfriend panted harshly, but his smirk remained, eyes boring into Kei's with no shortage of intensity. He loved this just as much, loved fucking Kei until he couldn't think clearly. They'd done this more than enough times, and at this point, Kuroo considered himself a pro at knowing the fastest and most satisfying way to get Kei to orgasm, and he used the skill to his advantage.

Bless him. Five stars. Fuck.

Kei felt his body start to spasm, the familiar heat coiling in his abdomen until flecks of white danced across his vision. He was going to come so fucking hard, finally.

"Tetsu, Tetsu, fuck I'm--" Kei couldn't get the words out, his voice breaking and dissolving into moans as his orgasm rushed over him.

"Yeah come on baby, right on my cock," Kuroo babbled, his thrusts becoming less and less precise as he neared his own orgasm. "You're squeezing me so tight, you make me feel so good, so fucking good..."

Somehow, the pride which surged through Kei as a result of the praise only intensified the pleasure coursing through him, and he pulled Kuroo down into another sloppy kiss, not caring that it prevented Kuroo from pulling out of him.

He'd gladly take everything Kuroo had to offer. He'd asked after all, and Kei could be greedy when he wanted to be.

Kuroo moaned into Kei's mouth as he came, pumping Kei full, and no objections were raised. They sat there afterwards, panting and exchanging kisses until the burn subsided, the fog in their minds gradually lifting.

Kei felt the aftershocks of his orgasm pulse through him as Kuroo pulled out, slumping onto the couch in the usual boneless fashion. Kei snorted, and his mind continued to spin from how great he felt. Kuroo looked just as fucked out, eyes droopy and smile lazy.

They were well fucked and well loved, as gross as it sounded. What was better?

Kei stretched, his skin still tingling, and he eyed the clock sitting on the coffee table.

Oh.

"Well shit," he said, not nearly as concerned as he should've been, and Kuroo raised his head, squinting at the time.

"You know...I think you're gonna be late," Kuroo said, pulling Kei against his chest despite the glare directed at him. Yeah, he was late. More than late. Like...he'd definitely have to explain himself late.

Kei sighed, accepting the situation. He sort of had to. Kuroo's cum was dripping out of his ass, so he wasn't going anywhere.

But that was alright he guessed. Kuroo kissed his temple, snuggling closer. And of course, Kei let him, because deep down, there was nowhere else he'd rather be anyways.

Until Kuroo ruined it.

"Anyways, I would tip you for the pizza, but I sorta already did," the raven said, grinning wolfishly, and Kei was powerless.

"Tetsu."

"Yeah?"

Swallowing the last of his pride, Kei let himself smile, kissing Kuroo's cheek. "You're a real pizza work, you know that?"

It was comical, how Kei could practically see Kuroo's brain short circuit, reboot, and reprocess what Kei had said, ultimately leading to both of them toppling to the floor, and Kuroo bombarding him with kisses.

Needless to say, Kei was an extra hour late to work.

#kurotsuki #kurotsukki #haikyuuwriters #adri writing

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winterbaby89 · 7 years

Text

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Chapter Two

A Captain Swan, Season 1 Canon Divergence Collaboration by: @hollyethecurious, and @winterbaby89

Beta’d by: @ilovemesomekillianjones

Amazing Artwork by: @xhookswenchx

Rated M for language and dark themes (and maybe (probably) some sexy times… later ;o)

Summary: Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name…

Disclaimer: Canon dialogue and scenes from various episodes will appear within this fic. To Adam, Eddie, and the OUAT writers goes all the credit.

Line breaks indicate change in POV or Scene.

Also available on ao3, my fic page, and Hollye′s fic page And if you want to catch up on the last chapter.

This work is no longer available on FF.net. Unfortunately the site does not allow authors to co-publish collaborative works.

Chapter Two

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Hands. Plural. As in, he had two of them again. How?

Was it a side effect of Regina’s curse or from his being...

The Dark One.

The bloody Dark One.

I’m the bloody Dark One!

It had all come back in a rush. Fast and sporadic flashes of memories - his memories - that told the story of his long life. A life that spanned centuries, and yet the truth of it had hit him in an instant. The truth of who he truly was.

Killian Jones.

Orphan.

Slave.

Lieutenant.

Pirate.

Captain Hook.

Dark One.

Killian shuddered at that final memory, and then panic seized him once again. He spun around surveying the room, expecting the Crocodile to manifest himself at any moment with his mocking and jeering. But he hadn’t appeared. Not in the bar. Not on the long walk home. Not even now as Killian paced the length of his manor.

Why?

‘This new realm is a land without magic’, he remembered suddenly. Regina’s words, just before she’d solicited him to kill her mother, echoing in his ear.

A Land Without Magic.

‘Where The Dark One will be stripped of his power.’

For the first time in what seemed like hours Killian took a deep, steadying breath. The Dark One had no power in this land. He had no power in this land. Even still, Killian could feel the rage, the anguish, and the all encompassing darkness he’d felt in that clearing. The memory of their collective presence haunting him more severely than any of his other demons ever had.

And even if they now lay dormant within him, it didn’t change one other fact… he was still Captain Hook. A villain in his own right. A scourge and a scoundrel out for only one thing. Revenge.

Killian pressed his fingers onto the now vacant space on his forearm. Milah.

Revenge had been his, but at what cost?

He’d become the very thing he hated the most. The very thing she hated most. Rumplestiltskin may not have been The Dark One when they’d been together, but Killian had seen it in her eyes when he’d told her of his run in with her husband turned Dark One on the docks; the loathing at what he’d become coursing through her.

For centuries Killian had justified his own depravity and darkness because it was all in pursuit of avenging her. He believed that she’d understand, would offer him absolution for his actions because the ends would justify the means. But now…

Now all he felt was shame. Shame at what he’d become, and thankful to all the gods that she had not lived to see how far he’d fallen in his quest for vengeance. And not just Milah, but Liam as well.

Liam.

Killian clasped at the chain hanging from his neck, but knew it would not hold what he sought. Liam’s ring. What had become of it? What had become of all his possessions? His hook, his coat, his sword, his…

Dagger.

The Dark One dagger.

It had been in his hand when the curse hit, and even though he knew it no longer had the power to control him (at least, that is, as long as Regina’s curse and the lack of magic in this land kept The Dark Ones at bay) he in no way wanted it in anyone else’s possession other than his own.

Killian tore the manor apart in his search, upending rooms he had no memory of ever even entering before. Memories of his cursed life interspersed with his real life. Bloody hell, leave it to Regina to over complicate matters. As if three hundred years of his own memories weren’t enough for his mind to contend with, now he had twenty-eight years of practically the same day recurring over and over again in his head. The only detail making the days distinct from one another was Henry.

Henry. He knew.

The lad knew about the curse. He’d mentioned it before, his suspicions that the stories in the book his teacher had given him were true. Killian had recognized it as a coping mechanism, a way for the lad to try and escape the reality of his unhappy life. A way to ground himself to something more hopeful.

Killian now understood why Henry Mills had come to mean so much to him. He was a lost boy, just like Killian.

On some level Killian had recognized that trait in Henry, even as he had forgotten his true self. It’s probably what had prompted him to suggest that the boy seek out information about his birth parents in the first place. Of course, he never considered that Henry would actually run off in search of the woman who’d given birth to him. But seek her out, the lad had, and her presence in Storybrooke had already begun to change things.

The mystery of why her name broke the spell he had been under notwithstanding, Killian knew he’d only just scratched the surface of the intrigue Emma Swan possessed. But he couldn’t focus on that now. On her. He had a dagger to find and a secret to keep.

As Emma dressed the next morning, and thought about stopping at the diner for breakfast, she heard a knock on the door. Answering it revealed Regina with a basket of apples in hand, and a fake smile plastered on her face. Great, I have to deal with her crap before I’ve even had the chance to drink my first cup of coffee? Just great. Before Emma could manage a polite hello, Regina thrust an apple toward her and started in on some random spiel.

“Did you know the honeycrisp tree is the most vigorous and hardy of all apple trees? It can survive temperatures as low as 40 below and keep growing. It can weather any storm. I have one that I've tended to since I was a little girl, and to this day I have yet to taste anything more delicious than the fruit it offers.”

“Thanks,” Emma responded dubiously as she took the proffered apple Regina extended to her, still clutching her cup in her right hand.

“I'm sure you'll enjoy them on your drive home.” Regina tried to hand over the full basket of apples, but Emma took a half step backward, refusing to reach out for it.

“Actually, I'm gonna stay for a while.”

A brief flicker of anger and agitation crossed Regina’s face at Emma’s declaration and refusal before she schooled her features into a mask of pleasant nonchalance. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Henry has enough issues. He doesn't need you confusing him.”

“All due respect, Madam Mayor, the fact that you have now threatened me twice in the last twelve hours makes me want to stay more.”

“Since when were apples a threat?”

“I can read between the lines. Sorry. I just want to make sure Henry's okay.”

“He's fine, dear. Any problems he has are being taken care of.”

A concern for Henry’s well being swelled within her chest at Regina’s words, prompting her to ask, “What does that mean?”

“It means I have him in therapy. It's all under control. Take my advice, Ms. Swan, only one of us knows what's best for Henry.”

That’s right, Emma thought. She remembered meeting Henry’s therapist the other night when she brought him back to Storybrooke, he was the kind man that had given her directions to Regina’s place. She remembered as a sense of relief flooded through her that Regina wasn’t referring to something more sinister. Great I’m starting to think like Henry, she’s not the Evil Queen, just a concerned parent, most likely a bad parent, but concerned nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm starting to think you're right about that.” Emma didn’t miss the glare Regina sent her way at that comment.

“It's time for you to go.”

“Or what?” Emma challenged.

“Don't underestimate me, Ms. Swan. You have no idea what I'm capable of.” Considering that the end of the disturbing conversation, Emma shut the door without another word to Regina, and locked it before going back to getting ready for the day.

Thirty minutes later, Emma found herself perched at the counter in Granny’s diner. Perusing the menu, she debated what to order, when Ruby set down a hot chocolate with cinnamon and whipped cream in front of her.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t order that.”

“Yeah, I know. You have an admirer.” At that comment, Emma turned and tried to tamp down the hope that it might be from a certain blue eyed gentleman who had haunted her dreams the night before, only to see Sheriff Humbert. Her disappointment swelled within her as she picked up the cocoa and approached his table, intending to let the poor man down gently.

“Ah, so you decided to stay.”

Was it really that much of a surprise to him? “Observant, important for a cop.”

“It's good news for our tourist business. It's bad for our local signage.” Graham looked a little uncomfortable with the awkward pause as his joke fell flat. “It's... it's a joke. Because you ran over our sign.”

The only immediate response she can muster is to roll her eyes at his terrible attempt at a joke. “Look, the cocoa was a nice gesture, and I am impressed that you guessed that I like cinnamon on my chocolate, 'cause most people don't, but I am not here to flirt, so thank you, but, no thank you.” Gently placing the cup on the table, she considers whether or not she would have accepted it from a different, accented man.

“I didn't send it.”

“I did. I like cinnamon, too.”

Her head shot towards the front table by the window at the sound of Henry’s voice. How did I not see him there earlier? “Don't you have school?”

“Duh. I'm ten. Walk me.”

He’s definitely my kid with that eyeroll. Without so much as another look at the sheriff, Emma placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and began steering him out the door towards the bus stop.

Killian stopped abruptly in the back hallway of the diner as he watched the Swan girl and Henry make their way out of the diner and along the sidewalk that led to the bus stop. He was going to have to come up with some sort of excuse for avoiding Henry, as he was not quite ready to bring himself to lie to the boy by keeping up with his cursed facade in the lad’s presence. For now, he had a more pressing issue at hand; one he hoped the good Sheriff might be able to assist him with.

Killian prided himself on possessing a stealth that served him well in keeping people on their toes, or catching them off guard with his approach, but he’d never been able to get a jump on the Sheriff. The man somehow always knew when Killian, or anyone else, was approaching him, he seemed to have a sixth sense about him. In light of Killian’s regained memories he wondered just who Graham was back in their realm, and what the man would say if he knew that it was the infamous Captain Hook, or The Dark One for that matter, that was making himself welcome in his booth.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones. Something I can assist you with?” the Sheriff questioned, his disdain only slightly veiled in his tone.

“Actually, Sheriff. I’ve come to do my civic duty as a responsible citizen and business owner,” Killian replied as he placed a hand gun on the table between them, causing the Sheriff to tense momentarily before Killian could add, “I found it at the docks. Thought it best to turn it in to the proper authorities.”

The truth was Killian had found it during the search of his home overnight. Guns, knives, legal documents, and all manner of possessions had been uncovered. While not completely inconsistent with his nature, the items weren’t altogether authentic to who he was, cursed or otherwise, either, and no dagger had been found among them. It was only after he’d felt certain that no location within his home had been overlooked that Killian began to consider where within the town he might continue his search.

The stash of weapons he’d found concealed in various rooms had led him to the idea that the dagger may lay unclaimed within the Sheriff’s station. Not wanting to tip the lawman’s suspicions any further than they would be prone to, Killian had devised the ruse of turning over the firearm in hopes of naturally opening up the opportunity to question Graham about unclaimed blades.

“You found it?” Graham questioned suspiciously.

“Aye.”

“At the docks?”

“Aye.”

“And you’re just turning it in?”

“Would you rather I not?” Killian quipped inquiringly. “Too much paperwork involved, or are you running out of room to store unclaimed weapons at the Sheriff’s station?”

“We don’t have any unclaimed weapons at the station,” Graham admitted, unaware that he’d just provided the pirate with the very information he sought.

Damn! Killian cursed to himself. He’d have to continue his search elsewhere.

“Right. Well, first time for everything I suppose. I’ll leave you to it then, Sheriff.”

Killian exited the booth and took purposeful strides toward the door. He ran through his mental list of potential locations the dagger could be hiding, as he made his way to the sidewalk a flash of blonde curls and red leather caught his eye. He watched Emma make her way through the door that led up to Dr. Hopper’s office, or according to Henry, Jiminy Cricket’s office, and was once again struck by the urgent pull he felt toward the beguiling woman.

Shaking off such fanciful notions he turned himself towards the docks. He had a dagger to find and a day of searching through warehouses, offices, and his beloved Jolly Roger ahead of him.

Emma lounged on her bed at the B&B as she scoured the files that Dr. Hopper had given her about Henry. So far nothing was jumping out at her, but she wasn’t completely sure what she was looking for. She wasn’t a therapist, and until about three days ago she hadn’t considered herself a parent either. Not that she did even now that Henry was in her life.

A sharp knock at the door added to her current disgruntled state. When she found Sheriff Humbert on the other side she couldn’t help the sarcastic greeting that fell from her lips.

“Hey there. If you're concerned about the Do not disturb signs, don't worry, I've left them alone.”

“Actually, I'm here about Dr. Archibald Hopper. He mentioned you got into a bit of a row with him earlier?”

“No,” Emma clipped firmly as she placed her hands on her hips in annoyance.

“I was shocked, too, given your shy, delicate sensibilities,” Graham mocked, earning him an eyeroll. “He says you demanded to see Henry's files and when he refused, you came back and stole them.”

“He gave them to me.”

“Alas, he's telling a different tale. May I check your room, or must I get a search warrant?”

Unbelievable. Emma turned and allowed Graham to enter. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

“Is this what you're looking for?” she asked, gesturing to the numerous papers scattered across the bed.

“Well, you're very accommodating,” Graham needled as he picked up a few papers before delivering the news Emma had been waiting for, even as she reeled at the outrageousness of it all. “I'm afraid, Ms. Swan, you're under arrest. Again.”

“You know I'm being set up, don't you?” It was more a statement than a question as Graham affixed cuffs to her wrists.

“And who, may I ask, is setting you up?”

Emma continued to proclaim her innocence, casting accusations at Regina all the way from the B&B to the Sheriff Station. She questioned Graham about Regina’s hold and influence on the town even as he booked her.

“Regina may be a touch intimidating, but I don't think she'd go as far as a frame job,” Graham argued.

“How far would she go? What does she have her hands in?”

“Well, she's the Mayor. She has her hands in everything.”

“Including the police force?” Emma accused.

“Hey,” an excited voice echoed from the hallway.

“Henry, what are you doing here?” Graham asked.

“His mother told him what happened,” Mary Margaret supplied, having accompanied Henry to the station from school.

“Of course she did,” Emma exasperated as she stared pointedly at Graham before addressing her son with a bit of trepidation. “Henry, I don't know what she said-”

“You're a genius,” Henry interrupted.

“What?”

“I know what you were up to. You were gathering intel for Operation Cobra,” Henry speculated with hushed excitement.

“I'm sorry. I'm a bit lost,” Graham confessed.

“It's need-to-know, sheriff,” Henry said dismissively, “and all you need to know is that Ms. Blanchard's gonna bail her out.”

“You are? Why?” Emma questioned incredulously.

“I, uh, trust you,” the petite woman stated skittishly.

Looking between Henry’s smug face and Mary Margaret’s quiet understanding Emma felt her need for retribution spike as she turned to Graham with her hands out in front of her.

“Well, if you would uncuff me, I have something to do.”

Killian aimlessly wandered along the streets of Storybrooke, having had no success in locating the dagger. Though, he had uncovered more intriguing items that would require his attention and focus once the bloody damned blade was back in his possession.

He was starting to wonder if the infernal thing had come over in the curse at all. For all he knew, it remained in the Enchanted Forest sealed away in the vault he had emerged from after the Crocodile’s death. The only way Killian could be truly sure was to either keep searching and find the bloody thing or march into the Mayor’s office and ask Her Majesty. The latter option was not one he was willing to entertain, so he continued his trek as he ticked off all the locations he’d already explored.

Not in the manor, not at the Sheriff’s station, no sign of it in any of my usual hiding places within the Jolly. The warehouses and dock offices were a bust as well. Perhaps I should… what is that blasted noise!

The sound of a motor cut through Killian’s internal mutterings as he realized he was just across the street from the Town Hall. His curiosity piqued at the unusual sound, Killian made his way towards the building’s courtyard to investigate, but then quickly had to find a place to tuck himself away as he saw the Evil Queen exit the building.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the mayor exclaimed as she rushed across the courtyard towards the racket that continued to permeate the area.

A racket, that Killian could now see was being caused by the lovely Emma. She was wielding a chainsaw, ruthlessly plundering the Mayor’s prized apple tree as she made a quip about picking apples. Now, more than just Killian’s curiosity was piqued at the sight before him.

“You're out of your mind.”

“No, you are, if you think a shoddy frame job's enough to scare me off.”

Frame job? What else have I missed? Killian wondered.

“You're gonna have to do better than that. You come after me one more time, I'm coming back for the rest of this tree. Because, sister, you have no idea what I'm capable of.”

Killian watched as Swan violently tossed the chainsaw aside and challenged, “Your move,” before stomping away. A fresh appreciation for the tough lass washed over him. So, she and the Queen are at odds, then? Not surprising, he supposed, Regina’s at odds with everyone in this accursed town.

Just as Killian was preparing to extricate himself from the dark cluster of shrubbery he’d hidden away in, Sheriff Humbert pulled up in his police cruiser, no doubt having received a complaint about the noise of the chainsaw. Killian decided to remain tucked away for their exchange. Treasure and priceless commodities came in many forms, none more valuable in his experience than good, old fashioned gossip. Information that one could use against one’s enemies was a prize worth harboring in the bushes for.

Killian patiently listened as Regina expressed her desire to once again have Swan arrested, only to have the Sheriff question the effectiveness of such an action, even as he inferred his suspicions that Emma had, indeed, been set-up for her earlier transgressions.

“I think your schoolboy crush is clouding your judgment,” Regina barbed accusingly at the Sheriff.

The accusation caused a spark of rage to ignite in Killian’s chest, he bit back a growl that threatened to reverberate from within. Taken aback by having such a fierce response to the implication that Graham may harbor feelings for the same woman who had so ensnared him, Killian nearly missed the remainder of their exchange.

“You want me to arrest her again, I will,” Graham complied.

“Good.”

“But she's gonna keep coming at you, and I know you, you're gonna keep going at her, and you will do whatever it takes to get her out of here and you may succeed-”

“No, I will succeed. He's my son. It's what's best for him.”

Killian could barely contain the scathing retort that burned his throat, knowing now just how manipulative and cruel the woman had been in regards to the boy.

“I know that's what you believe,” Graham stated sympathetically, “but if this escalates, it seems to me the only one who will get hurt is Henry.”

Killian watched as Graham departed, leaving both he and Regina to stew in their thoughts of how the repercussions of Emma’s presence in Storybrooke would ultimately affect the boy. Even with the gut-wrenching realization of his true self, and the knowledge of what lay dormant just beneath his surface, Killian could not bring himself to resent Henry for bringing his birth mother there, and ultimately waking him from his cursed state. She was changing things, and Killian believed that such changes would only benefit Henry. It was apparent, however, that Her Majesty did not share this sentiment.

“There has got to be a way of getting rid of that woman without Henry blaming me,” Regina muttered to herself, as she passed Killian’s hiding spot. “If ever there was a time I needed my powers… wait-”

Killian’s attention sharpened at Regina’s mention of her powers. I thought this was a land without magic?

“Perhaps that little imp had something stashed away. Somehow my curse failed to bring him over, but perhaps there is something in the pawn shop that could be of use.” Regina’s speculations prompted her to abandon her immediate concerns for the mangled tree, and Killian watched as she rushed back into her office building - presumably to grab her purse and keys.

The Crocodile. Regina didn’t realize the truth of just why the curse had failed to deliver Rumplestiltskin to this land. But she believed something useful of his might be hidden away within the abandoned pawn shop?

Killian began to wonder whether or not a certain item he’d been in search of might be located there as well. He was at a disadvantage, seeing as he was on foot and Regina would have her car to get her there ahead of him, so Killian wasted no time in making his way back towards Main Street, hoping against hope that her search would not lead to the dagger before he arrived.

Chapter Three

Tagging some lovelies that have asked to be tagged, as well as some we believe might enjoy. Please let us know if you do, or don’t wish to be tagged.

@abeylin1982 @aprilqueen84 @artistic-writer @ashar663 @captain-k-jones @captain-swan-coffee @downeystarkjr @florenzu @freakassbuthunter @gingerchangeling @golfgirld @greenleaf777 @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @leiaswanjoneskid @like-waves-on-the-beach @rookiehookie @seriouslyhooked @teamhook @ultraluckycatnd @xhookswenchx @yayimallamaagain

#cs ff #cs canon divergence #cursed killian #dark hook #season 1 #cs fanfic #Captain Swan #dark hook comes to storybrooke #winterbaby89writes #words by hollye #cs fan fic #cs fan fiction #captain swan fic #cs #captain swan fanfiction

38 notes · View notes

narkik · 7 years

Text

title: operate

summary: stitches & souls & girls bleeding in love. meeting in urgent care will make for a good story somewhere down the line. [namikai]

warnings: brief, vague mentions of violence &/or injuries

a/n: surprise @lanternjawedstudmuffin -- i’m your @khsecretsanta this year! messaging you guys has been super cool this past month, and i’m very honored to be able to write for two authors who are clearly loved by the kh fandom. you both seem like awesome, talented people (side note: i read “introspective” & “break the chain” and really enjoyed both fics!). i hope this is to your liking, and merry christmas to you both! ❤

she’s pretty in split lips and silence, blonder than roxas and certainly more beautiful. kairi thinks she’ll never find someone so ethereal ever again, not even if she combed through the entire earth.

“i’m naminé,” says the injured girl, with nothing but softness in her smile. axel brought her into urgent care because her boyfriend bit her mouth away – marluxia’s love is sharp, naminé explains, before kairi applies disinfectant where his teeth broke her skin. marluxia’s twenty-seven, older more knowledgeable than she, so he kisses harder, that’s all. when kairi asks how old she is, naminé replies, “nineteen,” and kairi kind of wants to call the police.

“i hate that boyfriend of hers,” axel drawls in private, when naminé leaves for the restroom. “marluxia’s a real piece of work, y’know? acts all nice around everyone else, and yet naminé knocks on my door at eleven-forty-fucking-five at night, saying she doesn’t want to make a scene. so i told her i knew someone at the twenty-four hour urgent care downtown. but roxas was just about ready to kick his ass.” axel talks offhandedly, arms folded and green eyes distant, but kairi can hear his concern beneath the annoyance. they'd met through roxas a long time ago, and have been friends ever since; kairi can tell that the blonde girl with the bloody lips means more to axel than just a next-door neighbor.

once naminé’s done, axel volunteers to take her home, and goes to bring his car around. kairi has seven minutes left on her shift, but in that moment she is willing to abandon her post and drive this girl safely back to her campus dorm. after all, kairi’s technically only an intern, not yet a full-time nurse, and still a student at that. what did she have to lose? besides, it wasn’t like this was the emergency room.

“hey!” swiftly, kairi takes the lead, stopping axel mid-walk on the way down the hall. “i’ll do it.” when he waves a dismissive hand and tells her it’s fine, kairi tacks on “i’m a girl,” then watches his expression flood with understanding. not-so-discreetly, he glances behind them, where naminé is speaking to the front desk about medical coverage and co-pay. her gaze is cast downward, puffy lips pulled into a frown, even as she signs the last of the paperwork.

“you do it,” axel agrees, dropping his car keys back in his pocket. kairi grins, triumphant, before bidding naminé in her direction and informing the girl that there’d been a change in plans.

as expected, naminé’s quiet the entire drive home. kairi imagines that it hurts to talk with a cut running down the middle of one’s mouth.

“your boyfriend won’t be coming back around tonight, will he?” she tries to keep her tone casual, light, but there’s a hint of a warning between her words. “you’ll be safe, right?”

thankfully, naminé nods. “xion -- my rommate -- should be home in an hour. she doesn’t like marluxia.” a sigh. “she’ll like him even less now.” kairi doesn’t comment aloud, but she thinks that she likes xion already.

“i go here, too.” kairi changes the subject while driving into the campus residency’s parking lot. “but i commute. my apartment is about a half-hour away.”

naminé blinks, then offers a tiny smile. “really?”

“yeah. i’m getting my bachelor’s in nursing. you?”

“art major.” she doesn’t elaborate. kairi doesn’t push it.

a second or two later, naminé taps on the window and points to a nearby building. “right here is fine. you can just drop me off at the curb.” obediently, kairi pulls up, parking against the scarlet-spray painted sidewalk where she technically isn’t supposed to stop. naminé climbs out of the passenger seat, turning to poke her face back inside as soon as she's standing.

“thank you so much for the ride back. i really appreciate it.”

“you don’t want me to walk you up to your apartment?” disappointment tarnishes kairi’s voice. “it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

naminé shakes her blonde head. “it’s okay, don’t worry. i’d rather not make a big deal out of it. you get what i mean, right?”

actually, kairi doesn’t get what she means, but nods anyway, albeit a bit reluctantly.

after another round of thank you’s and good night’s, naminé shuts the car door and walks off. the stars are out tonight -- bright jewels sewn into a dark october evening -- and they glimmer around naminé’s form like a halo.

before she can think better of it, kairi rolls down the window and yells, “hey!”

instantly, naminé looks back, wide-eyed and pausing mid-step. kairi’s heart beats once, twice, before she blurts, “you know, you deserve better!”

with that, kairi rolls up the window and revs away, worrying about whether or not she’d said the right thing.

the next time naminé shows up to urgent care, she’s uninjured, and comes bearing a bouquet of flowers. it’s tuesday morning; kairi is in early today, because she doesn’t have class until the afternoon. when the receptionist – a pretty woman named aqua, who sported a brilliantly-blue bob to match – calls kairi out to the front desk, seeing naminé was the last thing she’d expected.

the roses are in full bloom and the color of crushed velvet. naminé says that dark pink roses mean ‘thankfulness’ in flower language – apparently, marluxia’s a botanist, so he knew about little things like that. suddenly kairi thinks that the arrangement loses some of its luster.

“anyways, sorry to bother you at work.” ruby stains naminé’s pearl-pale cheeks. the color almost matches the red-wine shade of kairi’s hair. her mouth -- which had been blood-dabbled not too long ago -- is scabbed over and the color of rust. “i didn’t have your number, or anything – ”

before kairi can fumble for a business card, or a pen, or simply babble out a string of numbers, the doctor on call – ‘vexen, ph.d’ his name tag reads – pushes into the waiting-room and snaps if kairi would please be so kind as to hurry it up. out of the corner of her gaze, kairi notices that aqua’s elegant mouth has twisted into a scowl.

embarrassment splinters naminé’s expression, darkening that ruby blush into garnet shame. all kairi can do is watch, stricken, as naminé stutters apologies the entire way out the door, feeling something like longing unspool in the pit of her stomach.

a week later, kairi meets naminé in the urgent care facility for the third time – though in this instance, blessedly, naminé is not the one in need of care.

“what were you thinking?” roxas is clearly upset, dirty-blond hair a mess, as he watches kairi tend the angry-looking burns on axel’s hands. axel starts to roll his eyes, but then kairi presses medicine against something that makes him wince and hiss out a curse.

“i wasn’t,” he finally grumbles, eyeing the roll of bandages beside him, “it was stupid of me.”

“fire is not just something you play with, axel.” roxas grimaces, not quite crying, but close enough. “you’re so stupid sometimes, did you know that?!”

this time, axel does manage to roll his eyes with infuriatingly axel-like precision – “yeah, yeah, love you, too.” – to which roxas makes kind of a choked noise that might have been a laugh under better circumstances. despite herself, kairi smiles.

“good thing your boyfriend was around to drive you here, axel,” she makes conversation while looping gauze around his palms, between his fingers, “otherwise you would’ve had to turn the steering wheel with your feet.”

axel gives a humorless snort, but roxas immediately perks up. “actually, naminé drove us here. remember her? blonde girl with the asshat boyfriend? she’s still here, too. she wasn’t in the waiting room when we came in because she had to find a place to park the car.”

at the sound of naminé’s name, kairi jerks her head up, wide-eyed. vaguely, she hears axel snicker, but excuses his transgression on the grounds of temporary insanity via the wounds he sustained from sticking his hands into a fire-pit.

“naminé’s here?”

smirking, axel jerks his spiky scarlet mane in the direction of the waiting room. “she said she’d be sitting out there until we were done. say...isn’t it time for your break? why don’t you pop out and say hi? i think i’ll stay here and rest my poor little hands for a bit.” a dramatic sigh. “i doubt i’ll be able to do much for a while, now. i ought to take a sick leave.”

“you’ll be fine,” kairi huffs, exasperated by axel’s theatrics, even as her feet march themselves neatly out the door.

she’s sitting pretty in scabs and silence, hands folded across her lap and legs crossed on one of the navy-cushioned chairs dispersed across the waiting room. kairi thinks she’ll never find someone so ethereal ever again, not even if she combed through the entire earth.

“naminé,” her name spills like stars off the tongue, and tastes just as sweet. “it’s...so nice to see you again!” remembering exactly where they were and why naminé was there in the first place, kairi flushes, then scrambles to save herself. nice going, kai.

much to her relief, naminé giggles; it’s a cute, tinkling laugh, full of dreams and charm. “it’s all right, i know what you mean. don’t worry.”

glancing around, kairi notes that the waiting room is empty, save for naminé and herself. she’s also fairly certain that aqua’s only pretending to be engrossed in typing something on her computer; for a second, kairi manages to catch her eye, and aqua gives her a knowing wink.

“how are the guys doing?”

“well, axel’s still a smart-ass, so he’s gonna be okay. roxas may or may not strangle axel when they get home, but aside from that, i think he’s okay too.”

another flash of pearly teeth. “i’m glad to hear that. both of them are great, really. i couldn’t have asked for better neighbors – this was the least i could do.”

quiet presses against them, muffled and slightly awkward. kairi isn’t quite sure where to go from here, but --

“i broke up with marluxia,” naminé blurts. at first, her face colors, seemingly embarrassed by the outburst; then suddenly she’s grinning, split lips and all. “so, i was wondering if you wanted to...go get coffee sometime? maybe? with me?”

and kairi laughs and smiles and thinks, there is a god after all.

it’s their third official date, and when naminé gets into the passenger seat, she asks if kairi notices anything different tonight.

“hold up, it’s kinda dark outside.” kairi clicks on the overhead light, illuminating the interior of her car a buttery-yellow before squinting at her date. “well, you look very pretty, but that’s nothing new.”

naminé giggles. “no, silly! my lip’s all healed up now. no scab or anything.” she scoots closer, pointing with an index finger. “see?”

instinctively, kairi leans over the armrest, genuinely curious. naminé is right -- there is no trace of lumpy skin or dry blood anywhere beneath the silky-pink gloss she wore on their nights out.

“it didn’t even scar or anything!” kairi observes, sounding more excited than she’d intended to. privately, she’s thrilled to see the last reminder of that biting-botanist-boyfriend gone forever, leaving naminé healed and healthy and happy -- which is exactly what naminé deserved all along.

“yeah, i know.” naminé lowers her finger. “you did a great job, nurse kairi.”

abruptly, kairi becomes very aware of just how close they are to one another. “i-i guess. i didn’t do anything...not really...”

all naminé manages is a tiny noise of disagreement before kairi’s lips are on hers, smudging away the satin-sheen gloss and hands tangled in soft hair.

sometime later in the evening (as naminé buries terrified squeaks into kairi’s shoulder during the horror movie special at the dollar theatre downtown) kairi can’t help but be impressed with the both of them. to keep meeting in a place full of hypodermic needles and sterile-white walls was hardly romantic for anyone; yet somehow, she and naminé had made do.

a/n: thank you guys so much for your patience! again, i apologize for being late, and it was very gracious of you to put up with the delay because of my illness. i hope the story was to your liking! happy holidays & best of luck in the new year! ❤

#khsecretsanta #kh secret santa #namikai #kingdom hearts #kairi #naminé #my fanfics #sigh.. i hope this is okay... T____T i tried v hard to keep w/in what you guys liked hehe #anyways. HAPPY HOLIDAYS STUD & MUFFIN !!!!

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