#but also she might’ve forgotten their actual name

[ranger-danger]

I do love the concept of Evka and Antoine lightly bringing up Warden Thorne to Davrin, only for Davrin to be informed later that Warden Rook is Warden Thorne.

And it wouldn’t be a huge stretch to imagine Davrin hearing about Thorne around Weisshaupt either. Rook does mention getting thrown into Weisshaupt’s cells a few times*, as well as (though more of a stretch and inference) the first warden probably having more than the town hall incident to have a deep annoyance towards Rook, like he seems to have towards Antoine and Evka.

Your boss just so happens to also be that guy people kept murmuring about once every few months. Hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on, also maybe sorta kinda is that guy who dropped a town hall on a huge hoard of darkspawn and would’ve got into a ton of trouble for it, if they hadn’t gone on a little trip right away.

“Oh you’re that warden Thorne” “what does that mean?/ you’ve heard of me!”

*I think you can interpret that line however you want, but the conversation was Davrin mentioning how it mainly held drunk wardens. So it might be implying that Rook got drunk and got thrown into the dungeon for it. I don’t have examples of the lines rn so I can’t actually clearly say whether or not it’s meant to be implying that or anything else. I just know Rook got in trouble lightly enough to get thrown into Weisshaupt’s cells a few times.

[zorostitties]

Aurora, 4 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 6k

A/N: God!!! I can't believe I finished this chapter so fast!!!! I really wanted to post it before monday. Hope this makes your sunday night a bit less depressing!! Thank you for all the comments past chapter 💞💞 they really motivate me to keep writing! Without further ado, please enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Dracula.

Your reflection on the lake’s surface was distorted – the perfect materialization of your troubled mind.

Dracula.

An acrid taste had been in your tongue for the past hours, making you wonder if you’d actually picked a poisonous mushroom by mistake. No… that probably wasn’t the reason. Your back was as straight as iron, your hands politely over your knees, as you strongly avoided even glancing at the half vampire in front of you while he and Richter rowed the boat.

Dracula was considered by many the Vampire King for a long time. He was extremely powerful.

Richter’s words had been replaying in your head nonstop. You thought about that entire conversation again, and again, and again, trying to put your finger on what exactly triggered that… memory. If you could call it a memory, that is.

It was more of a feeling.

Dracula.

The mention of that name made a shiver run down your spine. Made your reflexes sharpen as if, suddenly, you were in the presence of a hungry wolf ready to launch at you. Not a face awakened in your mind – but a sense of danger that, somehow, felt extremely familiar. As if “Dracula” wasn’t the name of a man, but of a natural disaster, like an erupting volcano.

Where have you heard of that name before?

Perhaps Erzsebet or Drolta had mentioned it around you? After all, Richter said he used to be the Vampire King, and Erzsebet considered herself the Vampire Queen – goddess –; it might’ve made sense for her to talk about him at some point. But why did that name evoked such fear in your gut? Richter also said that this Dracula had been killed hundreds of years ago. You couldn’t have actually met him. Although your sense of time was distorted, there’s no way you’d been alive for that long. You were not a vampire.

And yet… you healed like one.

The more you thought about it, the larger the question mark grew in your thoughts.

Why did you heal?

It wasn’t exactly an ability – you hadn’t learned it, your body just did it. You had no control over it. If you had, you wouldn’t have bothered staying alive for so long under Erzebet’s imprisonment. It was more of a… condition. No matter to what extremes Drolta went with her punishments or Erzsebet’s with her hobby of hurting you when she was bored, your body always mended itself back together.

In fact…

It was more than just “mending” itself back together. It could regrow if necessary.

Vampires could heal from injuries that were fatal for humans. But you’d seen vampires die a lot, too – by Erzsebet’s hands, by Alucard’s hands, by Richter and Annette’s hands. You’d never seen a vampire regrow entire limbs if they were cut using magic or sanctified weapons.

You didn’t heal like a vampire, as Alucard stated back then.

You healed better than one.

It was a bit baffling on your part to have never questioned this condition of yours. Now that you were experiencing the real world, you understood just how truly odd you were. This thing couldn’t be normal and you had no idea why. You were beginning to hate this word – why, why, why. Your existence was surrounded by whys, but your stupid head couldn’t say no becauses, it could only bring forward more whys–

Annette woke up with a loud gasp that made you gasp and flinch away from her.

The girl had been sleeping for the past hour, laying in front of you in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. She jumped to a sitting position, aiming her blade to… nothing, in such a sudden move that yanked you out of your own head and made the two man stop rowing the boat.

She was trembling. The three of you stared at her in shock for some seconds.

“...Annette,” Richter said quietly, as if afraid to scare her. “It’s okay. It was just a dream.”

The girl in yellow didn’t look at him, though, keeping her scared sight glued ahead.

“Are those dreams, too?”

Finally, you looked at where she was pointing with her blade.

It took a while to understand what was between the trees under the moonlight. You narrowed your eyes… and when you understood what you were seeing, you couldn’t help but gasp.

Corpses.

Countless corpses hanging from the trees on the river bank.

“This is Erzsebet’s doing,” Alucard said in a somber tone.

“But we’re miles from Machecoul,” Richter was in disbelief.

Alucard closed his eyes for a moment – a subtle and solemn act of respect, perhaps. “She has followers. Everywhere.”

But then, the wind brought voices to your ears. Groans. Screams. Cries.

There were still people there.

And yet – Alucard would go on to say the thing that would shock you the most.

“Keep rowing.”

The three of you looked at him in disbelief.

That’s… not what you were expecting of him. At all.

Perhaps the fact that, up until now, Alucard had been kind to you in ways that no other person ever were made you get a wrong image of him. A… softer image. You thought he wouldn’t refuse help to anyone, ever. You… didn’t expect his heart could be cold like that.

“Are you just going to leave them behind?” You blurted out before you could control yourself – and immediately regretted it.

Alucard didn’t look exactly angry; his face had the nonchalant expression you were getting used to. Yet, the way he slightly furrowed his brows made you shiver. I should’ve stayed shut, you reprimanded yourself. What right do I have to ask him to put himself in danger for anyone when I myself am pretty useless? What if Alucard gets angry at me? What if he starts hating me from now on?

“We don’t have time for distractions,” he replied, still rowing, still in that same controlled voice.

“But there are people in that village,” Annette argued. She looked angry at Alucard. “They’ll get killed if we don’t help them!” Richter looked from her to the hung bodies back to the vampire, not moving his oar.

“They’re right. We can’t just pass them by,” the blue eyed boy agreed.

The furrow in Alucard’s face deepened.

“If we rush to rescue every distressed villager, Erzsebet will rule the whole country before we have half a chance to stop her.” For the first time, Alucard’s tone showed a bit of emotion – annoyance. But the Belmont started to row towards the margin anyway. “Richter.”

If the white-haired vampire called you using that warning tone, you would’ve stopped whatever you were doing. But Richter wasn’t scared like you. He didn’t care about Alucard’s reprimand and instead kept rowing. Alucard could’ve stopped him, could’ve argued more – but, surprising you once again, he just let out a tired sigh.

Annette and Richter got out of the boat in a jump before it even touched the margin, not caring to wet their boots, and ran into the forest.

You were frozen. Heavens, what have you started? Well, you couldn’t assume that the other two wouldn’t act even if you stayed shut, but you were the first to speak up anyway. What if Alucard was angry at you? You wouldn’t be helpful anyway, so why did you even open your mouth?

Being alone with him for those brief seconds was like torture. You avoided his gaze, already feeling sweat forming on your temples, waiting for some sort of punishment.

But Alucard let out another tired sigh.

When he got up, you had no choice but to look at him. Indeed, he didn’t look angry. Just tired.

“Let’s get this over with, then.” He murmured more to himself than to you.

It was so quick that your brain didn’t properly register what was happening.

His arm got around your waist, forcing you to get up in a firm grip, gluing your back on his torso as if you didn’t weigh more than a watermelon. Then, you saw a red glow spread from his body to yours–

And you didn’t see anything anymore.

For a split second, you thought you got blind.

No, it wasn’t that–

Alucard was moving so fast that your eyes couldn’t distinguish what the hell they were seeing.

Everything became a blur. You heard the shuffle of leaves, wind howling on your ears– and then, you weren’t on the boat anymore, but deep within the forest – surrounded by vampires.

Your stomach dropped. The world spun around. Alucard carried you under his arm like someone carries a dog, your feet weren’t even touching the ground anymore.

The vampires looked as shocked as you, at least.

All of them launched at Alucard at the same moment he unsheathed his long sword.

Instinctively, you covered your head with your hands (as if it’d do much) while the white-haired vampire swung his sword around – and then everything became an incomprehensible cacophony of steel against steel, flesh being slashed and pierced, groans of effort and pain. Alucard was ridiculously superior to any of them; they were less of a threat than the guards at Erzebet’s chateau.

When the clearing had nothing but mutilated corpses, he did that thing again – red glow, wind swooshing, vision getting dark – and rushed to another clearing after a new group of vampires. You felt the taste of mushrooms on your tongue, but forced yourself to swallow it back, covering your mouth with both hands.

This is how a potato sack must feel, a stupid voice whispered in your head. You tried to focus your sight on anything, but Alucard moved so fast that it was impossible; sometimes he made his long cape fall over your body to confuse any attacks aimed at you, making it even more impossible to understand what was happening.

Two last enemies remained. One of them was running away. Alucard let go of his sword and the weapon flew on a beeline towards him; it impaled the vampire on a tree.

The other enemy launched itself at you, screaming in a last desperate attempt. Alucard raised you up with a single arm to get you out of danger’s line, his hand on your back as if you were quite literally a tray, and kicked the vampire on the stomach with such force that you were sure that you heard his spine breaking apart; the man shocked against one, two, three trees, destroying them on his way, before Alucard’s obedient flying sword landed the finishing blow.

And you were alone.

Only then Alucard put you on the floor.

“I think that was all,” he said – once again to himself, not to you – and held his sword. He didn’t show a sign of fatigue or… anything. Not even his hair was disheveled, as if it was magical like his sword and each strand could simply go back to its place. “Let’s see if the others finished–“

He interrupted himself when he saw your position – bent over, one hand on your stomach and the other covering your mouth.

“...Are you oka–“ He was about to ask – showing the most emotion up until then – but you lifted your finger at him.

“J-Just give me a–“ don’t vomit don’t vomit don’t vomit don’t vomit– “A second. Please.”

Surprisingly, Alucard obeyed.

You breathed slowly, in and out, focusing every fiber of your being into not throwing up. We don’t have time for that, you repeated like a mantra. When you felt the nausea fading away, you straightened your back and brushed the dust off your skirt, turning to him.

“Please, the next time you do that,” you said in a weak, breathless voice, as if you were the one relentlessly fighting vampires a second ago, “I’d like to know first.”

Alucard looked speechless at first, then you saw the ghost of a smile on his lips – oh, of course he finds my state quite funny, as if it wasn’t humiliating enough. He opened his mouth to say something–

A sharp pain on the left side of your face.

You stumbled back in pure shock.

You hadn’t noticed the trap in front of you – a deep hole on the ground covered by a carpet of leaves, some sort of trap for wolves, perhaps. From said hole, a vampire jumped up, launching himself in the air, his nails sharper than any knife and now covered with your blood.

The world moved in slow motion for maybe three seconds. You saw the man’s devious smile – he was probably so proud of himself for fooling both of you; his hiss made your skin crawl. You were his target. His landing trajectory was you, and his nails were once again ready to hurt you.

He never had the time.

The world was still moving in slow motion when Alucard sliced him in half. You watched in grotesque precision as the sharp blade cut through the skin of his stomach, his flesh, his guts, his spine. The cocky smile never faded away. The vampire didn’t even have time to realize he was dying.

Everything went back to its normal speed. You didn’t want to look at the body hitting the ground.

You stumbled two more steps back, instinctively touching your left cheek with your fingertips and wincing in pain. Hell. These weren’t just cuts – felt more like gashes. You realized that you couldn’t open your left eye anymore. Blood dripped down your face.

Wounds like that weren’t anything out of the ordinary. They hurt, yes – but you felt, at most, annoyed. How did you let yourself get hurt like that, even after all of Alucard’s efforts in keeping you safe?

And yet – your mind was silenced when you felt the gentle touch of a gloved hand.

With his left hand, Alucard lifted your chin; with his right hand and the utmost care, he pressed a handkerchief over your wounds.

“This looks bad.” His quiet, husky voice dripped with worry. His forehead was tense, his jaw was tightened. He made you turn your head slightly to get a better vision of the gashes before pressing the soft fabric over them once again. With the corner of your good eye, you noticed that he hadn’t sheathed the sword back in; now it floated near your body like a watchdog.

Maybe it was the embarrassment of getting hurt in front of him, or the fact that he was standing so close and holding your face with such care, or his unwavering gaze – or it was a mix of everything that made heat creep from your neck to your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful.” You held your breath; his tone was still quiet and gentle, yet you noticed the hint of anger in his voice; such anger wasn’t directed at you, however.

You couldn’t process that situation very well.

Alucard said I’m sorry. Not many people had said I’m sorry to you, as far as you remembered. And he sounded sorry.

You pressed your lips together. Why was he even sorry? Didn’t he already know that no injury was serious enough to you?

“It’s okay, Alucard,” you said sheepishly. If you had the courage, you’d have rested your hand over his wrist, but you gripped the fabric of the skirt instead. “I’ll heal.” And fast, as you already felt the familiar tingling sensation spread around the entire left side of your face.

“I know,” was all he said. He kept patting your wounds slowly, absorbing the blood with the handkerchief.

You didn’t know how much longer you could hold his piercing gaze. You gulped. “I-I guess the bleeding already stopped,” you stuttered, desperate for him to step back – and not because you didn’t like his touch, but because it was too overwhelming and you didn’t know how to physically deal with it.

Alucard distanced the fabric from your face. He hummed, analyzing the gashes once again, coming to the conclusion that the bleeding had stopped indeed. However, instead of distancing himself or letting go of your chin, he turned the handkerchief to the side that still wasn’t soaked; you held your breath when you felt his hand press on your jaw, on your chin, then on your neck – cleaning the blood that had dripped.

That heat spread to every corner of your body. You felt about to explode.

Only after he finished did he step away – not before making you still hold the handkerchief over your left cheek.

He looked so, so sorry.

It was the first time Alucard showed an expression that wasn’t subtle.

And for some reason, it made it hard to breathe.

You won’t get hurt, he told you back at the chateau. I mean it, he reinforced in the woods.

Oh… you got it.

Alucard probably felt like he broke his promise to you – even though that wasn’t exactly a promise.

“It’ll be healed in no time,” you repeated, hating how high pitched your voice sounded. You wanted him to stop worrying so much at that moment; you needed to avert his attention elsewhere. “We… we should go after the others.”

The white-haired vampire still hesitated, his gaze lingering on you for a while longer before nodding. “Let’s go.” When he said this, you almost sighed in relief.

He walked very close to you this time, his hand behind your back without exactly touching, acting more as a guide. The long sword still floated closer to you than to him.

The warmth of his touch, even through the leather gloves, was comforting; his movements much slower now compared to how they were minutes ago as he ruthlessly slashed vampires without struggle. It was even impressive how he could switch like that. Now, he moved around with the care of someone holding a scared kitten.

You didn’t know how to feel.

On one side, you liked it. Heavens, how could you not? When was the last time anyone had touched you with such care? You’d always associated vampires with violence and brute force… yes, Alucard could fight ruthlessly, and imagining him as your foe was frightening. But at the same time, he could be considerate, his touch as light as a feather, his hunting tiger eyes changing to worried ones in the blink of an eye. How could you not be… flattered by that?

On the other side, you wanted to dig a hole on the ground and hide there forever. You were beyond embarrassed – embarrassed because you got hurt in front of him, embarrassed that he was paying so much attention to you, embarrassed because Alucard was in a hurry (understandably) and he shouldn’t waste his time caring about the injury of someone that couldn’t take care of herself… and embarrassed because you liked the attention, even though you shouldn’t.

The pain of your wounds was nothing compared to your confused feelings.

When you found the other two after a short walk, your left eye had already reopened, although your vision was still blurry.

Annette held blades on both hands. She had a focused expression, but when she saw you, her eyes widened and she was about to run towards you. Richter also looked worried. Immediately, you lifted your hand; just Alucard was enough, you didn’t need anyone else focusing on you.

“Don’t worry! It’s nothing.” You tried your best to sound somewhat cheerful. See? It’s not so bad. It doesn’t even hurt. Don’t worry about me, please, don’t worry about me.

The amount of blood on the handkerchief – previously white, now completely red – made it hard to believe, even though you were hiding the wounds very well. Alucard looked at you with the corner of his eye, letting a glimpse of his worry pass through, before falling into the usual nonchalance.

“I think I killed all of them,” he stated. “None left to report back to Erzsebet.”

Any worries Richter might’ve had for you disappeared in a second. His shoulders fell down, his eyes dropped – and you immediately remembered what happened yesterday. Oh no. Tension bubbled up within your stomach. Annette sent a worried gaze from the Belmont boy to the vampire.

Unfortunately, Alucard noticed. “What?”

Richter sighed, realizing there was no way out of this. He turned to Alucard. “Yesterday, when we were fighting vampires…”

The white-haired man frowned. That simple action was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“...I might’ve given our destination away.” Richter confessed – embarrassed, hesitant. He closed his eyes for a second, as if he couldn’t bear to look at Alucard. “I was just–“

“Showing off. As usual.”

Another freezing cold shiver.

Alucard’s voice wasn’t loud – much the opposite. Low, raspy, similar to a hiss. It was the second time that day that you’d seen him show an emotion that wasn’t subtle.

“I’m sorry. It was stupid, I wasn’t thinking.” The Belmont boy very clearly felt the weight of embarrassment get heavier over his shoulders.

“No, you weren’t. You don’t.” Heavens – Alucard wasn’t even talking to you, yet you almost had the reflex of flinching away from him. It was the first time he used that tone. It was the first time he showed genuine, unclouded anger.

And it scared you.

Maybe not because it was him, but because your past captors taught you that anger meant punishment – and it was burned in your soul in a way that not even your healing condition could deal with.

“What’s done is done, Alucard,” Annette intervened in a defensive manner, perhaps because she thought that it could evolve into something worse. “Let’s just get moving.”

Obviously, Alucard knew she was right. You saw something in him – something that he surely kept very well hidden most of the time – that made you think that, perhaps, he was a stubborn person. Perhaps he was someone that didn’t like to back down when he felt he was right.

But then his eyes quickly paused on you. Maybe you were seeing too much, wanting to be more important than you actually were, and the other two definitely didn’t notice it. But you saw the way his eyes traveled from the bloody handkerchief pressed against your wound, or maybe he saw your expression – and that made him… give up.

Alucard simply let an irritated groan escape, sheathed his sword and walked towards the margin, not far from where you were.

You almost sighed in relief. A fight was the thing you needed the least right now.

While you watched Alucard’s tall figure distance himself, Richter expressed a little “thank you” towards Annette. She smiled, shrugging, before approaching you and resting her hand over your shoulder.

“Are you really okay?” she asked. It seemed that she wanted to take a look at your wounds, but you refused uncover them.

“Yes. It was just an accident.” Again, you faked a somewhat cheerful tone. “It’s already healing, so don’t worry. Really.”

Annette still looked hesitant, but ended up nodding anyway, making her way towards the boat.

Richter didn’t move at all. His fists were tightened, his eyes were down. Again, you couldn’t help but notice how his muscular body made such a contrast with his child-like features. He… looked like a boy. His round blue eyes were clouded by regret, embarrassment and a hint of sadness.

It brought forward a feeling you didn’t know you had. An… instinct.

“Don’t dwell too much on it,” you didn’t know where the courage to speak came from, but there you were anyway, your voice quiet in a tone you didn’t recognize. “He’s angry. It’ll pass.”

Even Richter seemed surprised at your words. He massaged the back of his neck and somehow managed to open a small smile before nodding.

“Let’s… get going,” it seemed he didn’t know what to reply. As you started to walk side by side, Richter eyed the left side of your face. “...You have a pretty high pain tolerance. I’m a bit jealous.”

You couldn’t help but let a light chuckle pass your lips.

And yet, your sudden reaction lingered in your mind for a while. The way you hated to see that boy looking even remotely sad. The way you found the words to try to comfort him, even though you usually struggled to speak most of the time.

...Could that be a memory, too?

You were used to feeling small.

It had nothing to do with height. Your captors made you feel small, minuscule, insignificant, for as long as you could remember. That wasn’t news. That was, in fact, ingrained in your brain in complicated ways.

And yet, Paris made you feel even smaller.

Not because you were being harassed this time, but because it was so big and there were so many buildings and there were so many people that you felt the size of a grain of salt.

You weren’t used to that.

You abandoned the boat a few hours before dawn. Two more hours of walking and finally, the first buildings peeked in the distance. The city was just waking up with the first rays of sunlight, and yet it was already flooding with people.

Too many people.

You didn’t know a city could have so many people. You didn’t know buildings could be that tall. You didn’t know a place could be so noisy. There were kids running around and carriages passing by and stray dogs barking at you (you almost peed yourself) and people selling bread and fruits on the sidewalks and there was a mother running after her son and a group of old ladies chatted very loud and there was a man wearing a monk cloak preaching something with a book in his hand and oh- the boy that was running from his mother almost got run over by a horse but the rider stopped it in time and cursed him using very bad names and the mother cursed the rider back using very bad names and the boy started crying–

A hand rested on top of yours. You gasped. It was Annette.

“I was asking if you were hungry,” she said, but by the look on her face you realized that you were doing it again, you were spiraling again in an embarrassing way – and worst, in front of all these people. You gulped and hid your shaking hands behind your back.

“N-No.” You were, in fact, hungry, but you didn’t know what you were saying at that point.

No one was convinced.

“Shouldn’t we rush to find the mummy?” Richter said – but after he finished that sentence, his stomach audibly growled. The Belmont boy blushed. Annette giggled. The white-haired vampire sighed.

“I suppose we should rest for a while. We made our way without any breaks, after all,” he said and put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket, taking a small brown pouch from there. It tinkled with coins. He placed the pouch on Annette’s hand. “You two, get us something to eat. I’ll be waiting with Ruby at the square.”

Annette still asked if you wanted to eat something specific, to which you once again replied mumbling some nonsense. Richter looked visibly relieved to be away from Alucard, at least for a while. They made their way towards a fair around the corner.

Alucard touched your back softly. You instinctively flinched.

“It’s over there,” he pointed ahead with his chin. Indeed, you could see a great square at the end of the crowded street. You nodded.

Alucard walked in a calm stride, and you tried to match his pace, even though your heart pounded violently. Your nerves wanted you to run. Everything was so loud and chaotic. Even the pigeons were noisy. You tried your best to not cross eyes with anyone – especially with the many men wearing red, blue and white uniforms, holding bayonets over their shoulders.

You felt that you stood out in the middle of the crowd. Your deep blue gown apparently was not a very fitting attire to wear on the streets, even though it wasn’t as puffy or long as it used to be. Women wore much simpler dresses. You felt their gazes over you and it made you want to disappear. If you had a vampire’s ability to turn into a tiny bat, hell, you’d use that ability right now to fly away from all these people.

A hand rested on your arm.

You gasped a bit when you realized Alucard was gently pulling you close to him before a man could bump into you. Your shoulder pressed against his body.

The stranger seemed about to say something mean, but then he looked from you to Alucard’s frown and gulped. “My apologies, ma’am,” he stuttered with an awkward smile, but Alucard kept guiding you ahead instead.

Oh.

His sudden proximity to you cut the cacophony of the street for some moments.

Finally, the street opened to a large square with a big fountain in the center and multiple wooden benches scattered around it. As it had more space, it appeared less crowded. Groups of pigeons flew away as you approached one of the only empty benches closer to the fountain. You sat down, Alucard at your left side.

The sound of the water gushing in the fountain muffled the other noises, helping you calm down a bit, but not nearly enough. You nervously gripped the fabric of the skirt and shook your leg nonstop, the heel tapping on the stone pavement audibly. There were still too many people. Still too many noises. Still too much attention–

“Look. There’s a rainbow.”

You eyed Alucard, finding his sudden observation strange. He sat with crossed legs and hands resting over his lap in a tranquil position that matched his expression. He pointed forward towards the fountain, clearly not wanting you to look at him at that moment.

And so you did.

The fountain was probably three meters tall, with four sculptures of women holding jars from where the water fell towards a pool. Indeed, as sun rays hit the water, a small colorful rainbow was reflected on the small droplets around it.

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered.

Alucard hummed. His voice was even calmer than usual. “Now, close your eyes. Listen to the water.”

You still found it strange, but did it anyway. With no more visual stimuli, you could focus on the sound of the flowing water. It flowed, nonstop, a sound familiar and somehow comforting; after a while, it muffled all the other sounds, the voices and conversations and steps. It enveloped you in a bubble of… peace.

Your leg wasn’t shaking anymore.

Finally, you opened your eyes again, your breathing back to normal.

Alucard now had his arms crossed. He looked at nothing in particular. “All these people are too absorbed in their own lives,” his husky voice was as soft as velvet. “They don’t care about you, so don’t worry about them.”

You nodded.

In that moment… Alucard was like a cold spot next to you. But not in a bad way. Everything else was too hot, too uncomfortable; he was like the cold breeze you needed to refresh.

Sheepishly, you looked down at your hands resting over your lap. “I’ve… never been in such a crowded place.”

Alucard nodded. “You get used to it after a while.”

Silence lingered between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable now, though.

“Oh! I’m sorry about your handkerchief,” you extended the apology you didn’t want to say in front of the others. “I tried to wash it, but… it didn’t work.”

The white-haired vampire chuckled softly. “It’s alright. Blood stains aren’t easily cleaned… you don’t have to apologize at all.” His small smile immediately dropped. “I should be the one to apologize again for what happened.”

You turned your body in his direction slightly, lifting your palms in an appeasing gesture. “I-It was just an accident! You don’t need to apologize again.”

“Yes, I do. You’re under my responsibility and I failed you.” Alucard turned to look at you for the first time. “What if you didn’t have this healing ability? You would’ve lost one eye. I think you don’t understand how serious that wound was.”

You looked down to your lap again, fiddling with your fingers nervously. “...Let’s just be glad that my body works like this, then.”

Alucard was still watching you. It made that familiar heat spread from your neck to your face all over again. He turned his body slightly on your direction, resting his arm over the back on the bench.

“How does it work? Your healing.” His voice had a new hint of interest. He pointed towards your left cheek with a subtle movement of his finger.

Instinctively, you turned your body a bit towards him as well, still avoiding his gaze.

“It… depends.” You started, frowning a little. “If it’s a light injury, it heals in seconds. If it’s more serious, it might take longer. Though… with more serious injuries, I can’t tell exactly how long it takes. I’d usually pass out and wake up the next day with everything healed.”

Oh. You didn’t want to let that last part slip.

Alucard pressed his lips for a moment. They were… glossy. Plump and delicate almost the way you’d expect to see on a woman. In fact, Alucard was a perfect balance between masculine and feminine; his features could be soft and delicate – like his lips, his long eyelashes, shiny wavy hair – but he could also be extremely masculine with his broad shoulders, muscular physique, his height, his deep voice. He was very elegant. And it wasn’t an inherently “vampiric” feature, as you hadn’t seen other vampires act like that, even the ones that claimed to be “royalty”. It was something specifically his.

The warmth in your cheeks got worse. You had to look away from him.

You inhaled, building up courage to ask what had been sitting in your mind for days. “Alucard, have you… have you ever met anyone else like me? A human that could heal?”

He looked into the distance, thoughtful. “Not exactly.” He paused for a moment, as if hesitating if he should tell you or not. “...I met a black magician once, many years ago. He sacrificed children, absorbing their youth, to keep himself alive for longer than a human should live.”

You couldn’t help but gasp. A bad feeling settled in your gut. “Did he heal like me?”

“Healing required the sacrifice of another life. An equivalent exchange. So, no.”

“...What happened to him?”

“I killed him.”

You widened your eyes. “Well, I-I don’t remember ever sacrificing children before, so…”

Alucard closed his eyes and let a light chuckle. “We can assume that’s not your case.”

Once again, you fiddled with the fabric of the dress. “Do you… have any idea of what might be my case?”

The man hummed. A soft breeze played with the locks of his hair. A few loose strands glimmered under the sun. Heavens, it was so hard to keep eye contact with him… when he was looking at you, you felt about to explode. When he wasn’t, you felt like you could stare at him for hours. And you weren’t the only one; you noticed some women walking on the square, taking quick glances at him, giggling and blushing. He was wrong in his theory that people were “too absorbed” in their lives – at least, that was not the case when it was about him.

“I can’t be sure of anything.” Alucard started, holding his chin. “There are a few theories I thought of. You might’ve made a pact with a demon to keep you alive in exchange of something it wanted you to do. You might be channeling your life force from someone else, like the black magician did. You might even be like me… a dhampir, how scholars call my kind. Half-human, half-vampire. Yet, that might most definitely not be the case, as you lack all vampiric features or needs.”

You gulped. All of his suppositions sounded equally bad.

“Are there other dhampirs?” You decided to avert his attention from you for a minute.

Alucard shook his head slowly. “No.” He narrowed his eyes only slightly. “And I am almost certain that there can’t be others like me. I was only conceived because my father was especially powerful… and he had the means to keep my mother alive throughout pregnancy.” He frowned in a subtle disgusted expression. “...I have seen others trying to replicate my existence with human women. It… never ends well to them or the babies.”

Although his last sentence was horrifying, you felt a little bit excited; Alucard barely ever talked about himself… and he just talked about his father, Dracula. The strange name that seemed to evoke something familiar in you.

Hell. You wanted to ask him. You didn’t even know exactly what to ask, and you didn’t even know if Alucard would want to talk about his father. As Richter said, Dracula was the man that almost wiped out mankind, and Alucard had to stop him… had to kill him. That couldn’t be an easy topic to talk about. How do you even approach this conversation?!

But at the same time, “Dracula” seemed to be the most important memory you had retrieved up until now. It could provide answers.

“We could also scratch the ‘channeling life force from another source’, too, if we consider that you feel tired when healing from serious injuries,” Alucard kept on talking, unaware of your internal struggle. “If you feel tired, it means you’re utilizing your own force.”

And then, you were shaking your leg again. “So… pact with a demon it is. Sounds lovely,” you didn’t want to sound that nervous, but you couldn’t help it.

Alucard chuckled. It was… nice to see him like that. Not so aloof. Smiles, even tiny ones, looked great on him.

“As I said, they’re only theories. Don’t dwell too much on suppositions. We’ll find out the truth, sooner or later.”

A moment of silence lingered.

“What if… I am actually someone evil?” You wondered quietly. “I have no idea of who I was before her. So… that’s a possibility.”

Alucard took a while to answer.

“I have lived for long enough to understand that good and evil are not simple concepts.” He was using that tone again – the quiet, reassuring one. A tone that meant comfort, but in that moment, it also meant wisdom, perhaps wisdom beyond your comprehension. “No one is entirely evil. No one is entirely good. Even vampires. Sometimes, evil and good are completely intertwined. One might do evil deeds for a good cause or the opposite. It is… very broad and subjective.”

Finally, you lifted your gaze to look at him.

“And what do you think is my case?”

Once again, Alucard took some seconds to answer.

The arm that rested over the back of the bench approached your face, which caused your heartbeat to increase; he moved slowly like he did before – moving around a scared kitten. His fingers came close to your head; his touch, almost unnoticeable. He took a little leaf that was hidden between your strands with his fingertips.

Why such a mundane action made all of your insides twirl around like that?

“I’m not sure of your past,” he admitted quietly. “But I am sure of what I see right now; and in this moment, you’re not someone capable of evil. And this, to me, is enough.”

You… couldn’t really breathe.

Couldn’t really look away.

Suddenly, he was also inside your little bubble of peace. There were only the sounds of the fountain, the sunlight… and his golden eyes. Nothing else existed. His presence emanated tranquility, certainty, solace… and something else that you didn’t know how to name. The same thing that made warmth spread through your body anytime he was kind, anytime he smiled, anytime he took care of you somehow.

It felt like you had fallen into a spell. A sweet one. It had an ambrosial smell, a honeyed taste. You didn’t want to break away from it. Not this time.

You opened your mouth, thinking of what to say – anything, any word, but nothing came; you were frozen, breathless, speechless–

“We brought croissants!”

The bubble popped.

You snapped your head to the side. Annette held a basket with bread and Richter held a bottle.

“They’re fresh off the oven,” Annette said with a satisfied smile.

“And I got apple juice. It wasn’t easy to get, so please, appreciate it,” Richter boasted before sitting between you and Alucard unceremoniously.

Annette sat by your right side, handing you a croissant and frowning at him. “He fought an elder man to buy it. It wasn’t very gentleman-ly of you.”

“What? He skipped the queue! I was right. Besides, we need it more than he does,” Richter defended himself with a pout.

The other two kept humorously arguing, but you weren’t really listening to them, trying to calm your heart instead.

You looked at Alucard with the corner of your eye.

For the first time ever since you met, he averted his gaze from you… and it made another question mark pop in your head; this question mark, however, wasn’t as dark as the others.

...Could it be that Alucard felt the spell, too?

A/N: someone sent me an ask on tumblr that put a question mark in my head. They weren't sure if the fic was a self-insert or if Ruby was a separate character from "reader". If anybody else is confused, yess, this is a self-insert, I am calling you RUBY and this will be your new LEGAL NAME from now on, don't argue with me. (jokes aside - I thought this was pretty clear :( hope no one else is confused, and I hope that this detail doesn't make the fic unreadable to you!) As usual, feedback is MUCH MUCH MUCHHH APPRECIATED!!!! This girl put out 4 chapters, 20k words in like ten days. cough cough I do feel like I deserve it 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ 💞💞💞

[atlabeth]

shades of cool

pairing: javier peña x fem reader

summary: you come to javier in a last ditch effort to save your life after it all falls apart around you.

a/n: me when im addicted to angst... im sorry i cant stop hurting my r characters. anyways im watching narcos w my roomies and we all cannot stop thirsting over pedro so i had to write something. please do not ask for a sequel because i will not be able to control myself and i already have too much stuff on my plate!!! if i do write another part it will take forever so pls understand that i just wanted to write something short for javi and apparently i cant do that without adding backstory lmao

also! r is colombian but writing this whole fic in my shitty high school spanish would actually be a crime so just know they're speaking in spanish the whole time. thank you for your consideration

wc: 3.3k

warning(s): typical narcos stuff. angst, r's brother is dead and she's passively suicidal, javi is an asshole half the time and a sweetheart the other half so some hurt/comfort

Javier Peña was not having a good day. 

He slept like shit. His coffee tasted like shit. He’d run out of his favorite cigarettes. Some idiot bureaucrat broke his coffee mug in the office. And worst of all, it was like he and Steve had hit a wall in their chase. 

Every lead they went out into the field following turned out to be nothing but bullshit, and if they actually managed to get good intel, they showed up to nothing—one of Escobar’s thousand informants always tipped him off one way or another. 

Noonan was on their ass about their methods, and Carillo’s methods were giving Murphy morally cold feet, and Murphy’s wife wouldn’t stop pestering Javier about making sure he kept his partner alive.

Javier wasn’t heartless, and he wasn’t a fucking idiot. Steve might’ve annoyed him, but they were partners. He wasn’t going to leave him out in the dirt, no matter how much he might’ve wanted to. 

But it had been a very long, very disastrous thirteen hour work day, and all Javier wanted to do was sit down, tend to his budding alcoholism, and smoke a few cigs. But of course, in all the chaos of the day, he’d forgotten that he was out, so he had to stand up, put the glass down, and go to the corner store. At least it was a Friday night—he could always sweet talk the cashier that worked Friday nights into giving him a discount. 

He ended up getting more than a discount—she gave him three packs for the price of one, and all it took was a smile and some compliments. At least some parts of the world still worked in his favor. 

Javier was in a better mood on his way back. It wasn’t much considering how shit his day had been, but he tried to ignore it as he opened his new pack. He took out a cigarette and tucked the rest into his pocket. He was about to light it when a voice spoke up from behind him. 

“Are you Javier Peña?”

He had half a mind to pull his gun out on the spot. Usually people asking about him by name on the street wasn’t a good thing, especially in Spanish. 

But he didn’t. He stopped in his tracks and turned, immediately locking eyes with the source. He wasn’t expecting someone like you, standing stiff with crossed arms and hardened eyes. He wasn’t expecting a woman at all—especially one that didn’t look interested in him. He’d been propositioned enough on these streets to know you weren’t a working girl.  

Javier glanced away to light his cigarette and blew out the smoke before he finally looked back at you. 

“Who’s asking?”

You didn’t shift beneath his gaze. “Someone that needs your help.”

He looked you up and down. You weren’t dressed in any particular way, just a linen shirt and too-long cargo pants fringed with dirt. Definitely not a working girl, and you weren’t exactly rolling in it either. 

“I don’t run a charity,” he responded.

“I’m not asking for charity,” you said sharply. “But we can’t talk here.”

Javier raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re DEA,” you said. “You know better than anyone that the walls have ears.”

“You’ve got information?” 

“I’ve got a gold mine,” you said. 

Javier stared at you for a good, long moment, almost hoping he could read your mind if he looked at you for long enough. You didn’t waver, didn’t look away—just met his gaze with those sharp eyes of yours. 

He normally wasn’t this desperate. But right now, they needed any intel they could get—especially if it could get them through back doors. 

Eventually, he cursed under his breath and shook his head. “Fine. Follow me.” 

He turned and started walking, and he could see you following him in the reflection off a storefront’s windows. You caught up to him relatively quickly, and he passed another glance at you. 

“If you’re fucking with me—”

“You think I’m stupid enough to fuck with the DEA?” you interrupted. 

“I never know with girls like you,” he said. 

You scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Girls that track me down on the street and try to become informants,” Javier said. 

He saw your jaw clench in his peripherals. “Well, I’ve got a pretty good reason to hate Escobar.” 

Javier hummed and blew out another cloud of smoke. The nicotine had to ease some of the sharper edges in his mind. Was probably why he felt more agreeable to what many would consider a bad idea. 

The two of you continued the rest of the way in silence, though Javier noticed how you kept your head on a swivel. Eyes constantly darting around, focusing on shadowy areas like something was going to jump out at you, not going a minute without checking behind you. 

Not only did you not have a sense of humor, you were jumpy and paranoid. Just what he wanted in a potential informant. 

He suppressed a sigh. So much for a relaxing night. 

-

You grit your teeth as Peña patted down your body. The warmth of his hands against your bare arms was a shock, especially when you could feel it through your shirt—part of you expected him to be cold to match the rest of his demeanor. “Is this really necessary?” 

“Gotta make sure you’re not bugged,” Peña said. He moved to your sides, then your front and back. Your loose button-up didn’t give the opportunity to hide much, but he didn’t seem like the kind to take chances. 

“Why would I be bugged?” you asked wryly.  

“Because the head of a DEA agent goes for 500 grand,” he responded in equal fashion. His hands didn’t linger on your chest as he finished vetting your torso, at least, which seemed like a low bar to clear. “Besides— beautiful Paisa approaches me on the street, implies she has information on Pablo Escobar, I take her home? Sounds like the start of a bad joke that ends with me getting my head blown off.” 

“Nothing about this is a joke,” you said. 

“Well, I see people get their heads blown off every day,” he said as he crouched down, finishing up his inspection with your legs. “I try to keep the mood light when I can.” 

Peña stood up after he got to the bottom of your left leg, seemingly satisfied, and gestured at his couch with his head. “Sit.” 

“Are you finally done?” you asked mockingly. “Think I’m clean?”

“Don’t give me a reason to think you’re not.” He picked up a near empty glass from a side table and walked into the kitchen.  “Now do us both a favor and sit down and shut up.” 

You decided to meet him halfway as you took a seat on the sofa. “I never knew DEA agents were so mean.” 

“I’m being pretty nice right now, all things considered.” You heard the clinking of glasses and liquid pouring from the kitchen, but you didn’t look up. You just stared at your hands, trying to suppress the rising dread in your chest. 

A part of you didn’t really know what you were doing. Talking to a DEA agent was about the worst thing someone in your position could do. All it took was one bit of gossip in the wrong ear, one of your brother’s old friends to wonder what you were up to, and you were dead. 

But the worst case scenario had already happened. As far as you were concerned, you had nothing left to lose. 

You started at the sudden sound of Peña setting something down on the table. You glanced up to see a bottle of whiskey alongside two glasses—one filled with a finger of liquor, the other empty. 

“You a whiskey girl?” he asked. 

“No,” you said. “But I could use some right now.” 

He chuckled and filled the other glass, then pushed it over to you and set the bottle down. Javier picked up his own glass and took a sip, then leaned back in his chair. He looked every bit the ruminating agent as he stared at you. 

“So,” he said, “what the fuck has you asking me for help?”

“My brother worked for the Medellín Cartel,” you said. 

Peña's eyebrows rose. You guessed he probably didn’t expect you to say that. 

“He get fired?” 

You picked up the glass and downed a third of it, grimacing at the taste. You really weren’t a whiskey girl, but you preferred to focus on the burn of the liquor rather than the memory. You scraped your nail against the glass once it faded. 

“Killed.” 

“About the same thing for Escobar,” he said. He leaned forward. “You work with him too?” 

You shook your head. “I stayed as far away from all of it as I could. But all Marcelo saw was the money.” 

You could practically see him file the name away in his brain for future use. It probably wouldn’t get him far.  

“So your brother works for Escobar, takes a wrong turn, gets killed,” Peña said. “And you come to me because you think they’ll come after you?” 

You shrugged. “Marcelo had his cartel friends over all the time. They know me, know my face—know that my brother told me shit they don’t want repeated.” 

Peña tilted his head. “So you choose to rat them out rather than take his place.” 

You scoffed. “They beat him black and blue before his best friend shot him in the head. They left him in the living room for me to find. I’m lucky I’m here talking to you, agent.” 

“Well, what got dear Marcelo killed?” he asked. 

You gave him a mirthless smile. “He made one mistake and it ended up being the biggest one of his life. They gave him a target to take out. He failed, loudly and obviously in El Poblado. Escobar snipped the loose end.” 

Peña’s eyes widened. “Your brother was behind that botched assassination on Luciana Rodriguez?” 

You nodded. “The only thing worse than killing a journalist is failing to kill a journalist—especially one that’s refused dirty money. The mess was all over the papers the next day, and she was giving interviews the whole week.” A chill fell over your skin as your hand tightened around the glass, and you had to glance away. “Marcelo was dead before he could even try to plead his case.” 

“You truly have my sympathy,” Peña said. His eyes had softened, no longer looking like they were skeptical of every word you said. “Burying a sibling…” He shook his head. “It’s awful.” 

You shrugged. “It’s how it always ends, isn’t it?” 

“For those at the bottom of the ladder,” he said. “Why do you think Escobar gets everyone else to do his dirty work?” 

You tipped your head in recognition as you took another sip of whiskey. Much better than the shitty liquor you were used to—despite the money Marcelo started raking in from his cartel jobs, the two of you never really grew out of the bottom shelf. 

“I never actually got to bury him, though,” you said. “Soon as I found his body, I took what I could and ran. I wasn’t going to wait around for a bullet in my head too.”

“I’m surprised they weren’t there waiting for you,” Peña said. 

You chuckled wryly. “Me too. But I’ve learned to count my blessings when I can get them—they don’t come around too often for people like me.” 

A shaky sigh fell from your lips as you leaned back, taking a moment to compose yourself. You hardly knew Peña, yet you were telling him about some of the worst days of your life. 

“I stayed at some shitty motel for the past few days trying to figure out what to do,” you said. “I remembered hearing your name around some of the circles—a DEA agent who seemed to have endless amounts of informants. I… I mostly got lucky finding you.” 

“It’s very brave of you,” he said. “But why now? Why not in the middle of all this, when you had the most access to information?”

“I’m a selfish woman, Agent Peña.” Your gaze fell down to the amber liquid—it was easier than looking him in the eye. “I didn’t want my brother to get hurt, so I kept my distance and I kept my mouth shut.” You paused, shaking your head with a slight laugh. “No, actually. I told him a thousand times it was better to be poor and honest than rich with dirty money. But all we’ve ever known is poverty—Marcelo wanted more, and Escobar offered him a way out.” 

Peña offered a thin smile. “How do you think he gathered so much popularity so quickly?”

“Believe me, I know.” You huffed as you sunk into the cushions. “I still remember that day he came home after Escobar announced he was running for Congress—400,000 pesos, just handed to him. How could he not fall further in?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure you haven’t?” 

“Some of the money I took from the house is probably dirty but…” you shook your head. “But Marcelo gave them everything he had, and they killed him for it. Nothing could make me work for those motherfuckers.” 

“I do like a woman with principles,” Peña mused.

You huffed another mirthless laugh as you leaned forward, setting your glass on the edge of the table. “Can you help me or not?” 

“You want me to ensure your safety in exchange for the information you have,” he said. 

You nodded. 

“Well, my protection is pretty valuable,” he said. “How valuable is your information?” 

“Marcelo was a floater,” you said. “He did work for whoever under Pablo needed it. I’ve got names from Gacha, the Ochoas, even some of Escobar’s main men. And I know the names of some rats in the police department, even one in your precious DEA.” 

Peña frowned. “Who?”

“Maya Alberts. Gringa secretary from Utah.” 

By the look on his face, you gathered that you were right. “How do you know that?” 

“Just because I didn’t get involved in all that shit doesn’t mean I didn’t listen,” you said. “His friends saw me as lesser than them—idiots talked around me all the time.” 

“You have this in writing or anything?” 

You tapped your temple. “It’s all up here. You give me a pen and paper, I can get them all down.” 

He blew out a loose breath and shook his head. “You’re valuable.”

“I told you.” 

“Well, I didn’t know you were this valuable,” he said. “I have to run all this by Murphy and the rest, but if your names match up, you actually are a gold mine.” 

“And you better do everything you can to take them down,” you said. 

“We have to be careful about all this,” Peña said. “If Gaviria or Gacha or��� or god forbid Escobar figures out that you’re running your mouth, you’re going to be their top priority.” 

“I don’t care,” you said honestly. “If my death is the price I have to pay to pave even one brick on the path to nailing Escobar, then I’m okay with that.”

Peña pursed his lips. “My informants aren’t usually so…”

“Suicidal?”

“Uncaring,” he decided. “The best informants are the ones that stay alive long enough to be informants.”

“I’ve lost everything, Agent Peña,” you said. “I want justice against the men that killed my brother. I don’t care what I have to do to get it.” 

Again, he stared at you. You don’t know what he thought it would do for him—if he believed he could tell whether you were lying or not by looking in your eyes, if he was trying to memorize how you looked in case he had to turn you over, if he just liked looking at people. But eventually, he sighed. 

“You’ve bared your soul and we’ve just met,” he said. “I think you can call me Javier.” 

You nodded. “You’d better take these men down then, Javier.” 

He smiled as he stood up. He actually had a pretty nice one. 

“Like I said, I have to go over all of this with my partner—maybe get Carillo involved too.” He looked at you. “It might take some time while we verify it all, but don’t worry. I keep my informants safe.” 

Your mind went back to the mangled body of your brother, sent as a message to Escobar’s people of what would happen if they crossed him. You could only think about how much he suffered in his final moments. 

Bile creeped up your throat, but the memory still burned more. All he wanted was a better life for the two of you. 

“All I care about is taking these bastards down.”

He shook his head. “You might not care about yourself, but I do. You’re staying the night here.” 

You frowned. “I have—” 

“You don’t have somewhere to stay,” Javier interrupted, taking the words out of your mouth. “You’ve got a shitty motel that’s probably already on the cartel’s radar. You go back there, you get a load of lead in your brain.” 

“Still.” You glanced around. “There’s got to be a better place than here.” 

Javier raised his eyebrows. “You don’t like my place?” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you bit back. “It— it’s just your place. I don’t want to intrude.” 

He actually laughed at that, a genuine sound you weren’t expecting. “You’ve got the Medellín Cartel on your ass and you’re worried about imposing?” 

“Well—” your frown deepened— “when you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.” 

“Because it is.” He left you with that as you started to walk towards the hallway. 

You figured you would be crashing on the couch—it was pretty comfortable. Most things in Javier’s apartment were cheap, but this seemed to be one thing he splurged on—him, or the DEA when they outfitted the place. The plush cushions had just enough give to support you, stark contrast to the stiff state your body seemed to always be in these days. 

He came back holding a bundle of sheets, a blanket, and a pillow. He set it down on the chair he’d been sitting in and looked at you. 

“Are you going to get up?” 

“Those are for me, aren’t they?” 

“‘Course not,” he said. “You’re sleeping in my room. I’m taking the couch.” 

You scoffed. “You want to talk about imposing—” 

“It’s for your own good,” Javier interrupted again. He seemed to like interrupting. “If someone tailed you here, or somehow figured out you’ve come to me, then they’re gonna break in through the front door or the window. I’d prefer to be the first line of defense in that case.” 

“You can’t be serious,” you deadpanned. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Javier said bombastically. “You came to the DEA agent for protection, and now the DEA agent is protecting you? How in the world will you survive?” 

You scowled at him, but you stood up anyways. You took the chance to polish off the rest of your glass—you didn’t grimace as hard this time, at least. 

“Bathroom is on the left, kitchen’s right there.” Javier pointed his finger as he talked, which he then aimed at you. “Don’t move anything around. I’ll know.” 

Deciding to bite your tongue, you nodded. Javier Peña was, after all, doing you a ginormous favor. You stopped right before you could reach the hallway and turned back to look at him, already at work stuffing sheets in the cracks of his couch. 

“Thank you,” you murmured. “I— I appreciate all this. More than you know.” 

Javier paused at your words, and when he turned around he had an uncharacteristically soft look on his face. 

“...Course.” He nodded his acknowledgment. “Sleep tight.” 

Your lips twitched in the slightest smile. “You too.” 

As you walked down the hallway, you felt his gaze burning into you. You resisted the urge to look back.

[halfwayhearted]

Can you maybe make a fic where kenan stands up reader too often for stuff and he promises that he won't do it again but at readers birthday party he doesn't show up and she packs her stuff and leaves. Kenan comes home to and empty home, searches for reader and looks on social media and sees posts about her birthday and realises he has fucked up. So he tries to find her. With a good ending please !!

There She Goes — Kenan Yıldız.

Pairing: Kenan Yıldız x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your birthday didn’t quite go as planned, but it didn’t end as awful as you feared it might’ve been.

Word Count: 920+

Disclaimer/s — Booooo, he sucks in this. Angst/comfort!

A/N: It’s the way if I was reader, I wouldn’t let him back in so easily but whatever requester wants, requester gets… 💔💔 also this is my first semi sm little post, do we dig, do we not

yourusername

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yourusername there she (i) goes (go) 💞🎂

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user1 such a cutesey theme !!

user2 waits for kenans comment/like

yourbestfriend my girl forever 🩷

➥ yourusername i love u lots 💗👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

user3 4 hours, no kenan like OR comment

user4 ik u guys are making her heart drop :/

➥ user5 they keep mentioning ittt

user6 gulps… anyways

user7 18 looks good on you

Load more…

That was exactly what your boyfriend had seen on his way home from practice. He’d stayed late for yet another day of doing so. That’s how it’s been the last couple of weeks. Him at practice.

You’d brought it up to him a multitude of times; it’s funny how it hasn’t seemed to register how much it truly affects you and your relationship.

It amazes you further when he didn’t show up for your small get-together for your birthday, despite having told him about it, well, several times. You marked it on both your calendars and even went as far as to jokingly make him set a reminder, to which he agreed. Kenan agreed. So in all honesty?

You really thought this time would be different.

Until it… wasn’t! It was the exact same as all the other events where he was a no-show. You were embarrassed, having expressed your excitement and enthusiasm to all your family. That’s who was there: just your parents and two of your friends.

What a shame it was to say that he wouldn’t make it, the only excuse being, “He’ll come next time! Something came up, is all.” And them not being able to say anything but nod and smile.

They were unaware that after they left, you were quick to pack some of your stuff, feeling as though you couldn’t stay there. He made it seem like the relationship you two were in wasn’t even actually a relationship to begin with.

And quite frankly, you were sick and tired of it.

So when he arrived and practically hurried into your shared apartment, an apology at the tip of his tongue, only to find out you weren’t there based on the utter silence, his heart rate spiked.

How could he have been so stupid? Kenan being an idiot wasn’t new, but to be a full-blown fool to think you’d continue to stay while he practically played in your face? He was a horrible boyfriend.

It was difficult for him to admit, but it was true.

The man whipped out his phone and called you once—no answer. Twice—no answer again. The same result after four unanswered calls. So he did the next best thing: checked your location, which you had forgotten to turn it off beforehand.

You were at an ice-cream shop nearby. Taking a breath, he wasted no time making his way toward you. His palms were clammy, his body tense.

And once he spotted it, exited his car, and saw you eating a small cup of ice-cream on one of the chairs outside, his expression softened, and he made his way to you, uttering your name so quietly that you didn’t even notice he was there until he spoke up yet again. “I’m so—I’m so sorry.”

You lift your head, eyes widening in surprise. Now you just felt like you were being pathetic. Here you were, eating ice-cream by yourself after your boyfriend didn’t show up for your birthday dinner.

He, on the other hand, didn’t see it that way. “I swear. I lost track of time. I didn’t mean to miss it. I’m an idiot, and I won’t do this again. I promise.”

“I’m not wallowing,” was all you said, wanting to get that out there. “Wanted ice-cream, so I got it.”

“You’re not wallowing. Okay.” The brunette paused, unsure of how to continue. “I messed up. I know this isn’t a rare occurrence, and I’m sorry. But starting now, I promise, that’ll change.”

Looking down at the now empty cup, you offer a shrug. “Why does it take me leaving for you to understand the gravity of your actions, Kenan?”

He doesn’t try to speak, so you continue. “Do you only think about yourself? That’s me genuinely asking. Because I don’t think you realize how embarrassing it is for me to have to reassure my family that you’re on your way, only to have to say you wouldn’t be making it. Again. And that’s just me speaking for you. You don’t even let me know. You just—you just show up whenever you want.”

“I know. I know, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, grabbing the chair across from you and moving it so he could sit beside you, his hand fighting the urge to place itself over yours. “It shouldn’t have been like this. I know it feels like I don’t prioritize you, but I do. I do. Let me prove it to you. This’ll change. Just… please come home with me.”

You suck in a breath. “You made me look stupid.”

“I never wanted that. I’m stupid for making you feel like you’re stupid. You’re not stupid.” Now he just wasn’t making any sense. “I’m really sorry.”

“Then prove it.” Of course, he’d prove it. He should’ve proven it the second you mentioned how you felt about his no-shows. He was dense.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Kenan uttered, holding out a hand which you don’t take. Instead, you grab the bag you had filled with clothes and whatever essentials you thought you needed and place it in his open palm, then make your way to his car.

His expression never faltered. He knew he’d have to earn your niceties, so he followed behind without another word, opening the passenger side door for you and then getting in himself.

This wasn’t the birthday you had envisioned, but you could only hope it would be the last of them.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedriache + @spidybaby + @lechrts + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[pinkyyoshi]

Saving all my love for you♡︎(CHAPTER ONE)

simon “Ghost“ Riley x Reader

18+!ANGST

Syn: Reader grew up as a hopeless romantic, always seeing the brighter side of things and always getting her heart broken. She finds herself falling in love with a man who happens to already be taken and ends up in a fucked up situation.

CW: Self-harm, manipulation, arguing, ANGST ANGST ANGST, profanity, cheating, mommy-issues, drug-use, SA(NOT BY GHOST!)

A/N: Thank you for tapping in. Welcome to the first offical chapter to my first ff! I appreciate all criticism, I actually encourage it so lmk guys!! If you haven’t read the prologue, you might wanna do that for better context also forgot to mention that readers’ alias is “Sage“ but nonetheless enjoy the very first chapter and I'm gonna try and update as fast as I can everyday!! Here we goミ★

---------

“So it’s not much of a secret. You two are deffo fucking.” Gaz wiggles his eyebrow, elbowing her side and Soap puts a hand over his mouth to hide the cheeky smile plastered on his face. You weren’t in the room yet, just right outside, and you can hear how sweet the sound of her laugh is. The sound of her nervous voice and her giggles. Oh so she hangs out with the task force now? Should stay in her lane, you think to yourself before pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing.

“What am I thinking? I have no reason to be jealous. God I’m such a loser…” You mumble to yourself, earning a pat on your back from your captain who was just entering the room himself.

“Mornin’ sergeant, let’s go”

As the two of you enter the room, you can feel the stares from Gaz, Soap, and Chel on you. Oh that’s right, her name is Chel. It must’ve slipped your mind, but I guess seeing her face made you remember. Hard to forget really…

Knock it off Sage! She’s innocent!

God my palms are sweaty. Just sit down, you see these guys everyday so why is your stomach churning? Must be the morning sickness…wait morning sickness?! You’re on the pill dumbass. Maybe this is morning Guilt...Or maybe-

“Mornin’ Sage!” Soap and Gaz peers at you while Chel just gives you a shy smile before getting up from her seat. And dismissing herself

“Looks like you guys are getting started. Better get back to my patient, she’s probably waking up by now!” She giggles, covering her mouth. She does it so gracefully, like a mermaid or some shit. Almost sickens you, it’s annoying…no it’s not. I’m just being a green-eyed cat.

The men all wave her off as she walks out of the room. You sigh, and lean on the table with your cheek in the palm of your hand. Facing Simon is gonna be so painful today. Well it’s really painful everyday, you think to yourself with another sigh. It has been ever since we started whatever we have. I remember the first night we got together…

—---

The sounds of wet kisses and ruffled up fabric, whether it was your guys’ clothes or the sheets, are the only things to be heard in the room. He unbuckles his pants without his rough lips leaving your smooth ones.

You place a hand in his chest, in an attempt to reluctantly push him away. It was highly unprofessional for the two of you to be doing this anyways. “Sir…we shouldn't, we could get in big trouble if anyone saw us like this.” You blush trying to hide the obvious tint in your cheeks

“Well then love…it’s a good thing we’re at my place, in my dark locked room, curtains closed, just the two of us away from base…alone” He whispers the last part, closely in your ears nibbling on your earlobe, earning a giggle out of you.

‘Okay’ is all that you mouth, and immediately go back in.

—----

You remember it like it was yesterday, though it was…almost a year ago. It was actually around the time that Chel started at this base. On that mission… December 14th. Simon taking a bullet for you might’ve been the worst decision he ever made. Because that single bullet landed him in the hospital where he had met Chel and forgotten all about you, made you sick to your stomach.

You let out a sigh, and slouch back into your chair, earning devious looks from the other men in the room around watching you.

“Ey! What’s got you all down in the dumps?” soap, making his way over to sit next to you asks in a curious tone. He leans back in his chair, placing a hand on your thigh. You just can’t help but let out another sigh, blowing raspberries while you’re at it. Just then, Simon walks in ready for the meeting to start,on time like always, but you’re too down in the dumps to notice him.

“Lemme guess. Trouble in Paradise yeh?” Gaz snorts, taking a sip of his overly sweet coffee.

“Yer boyfriend not treating you right?” Soap wriggles his eyebrows

“Woah-ho-ho! Boyfriend?! Since when?” Gaz exclaims. Not sure why he’s so surprised. I mean it’s not like I can tell him that Simon is really my boyfriend. Wait- can I even call him that? This is some evil shit I’m in. Poor Chel. I’m such a piece of shit, seriously. But I guess-

“Eyyyy! LT’! You just sneak in here? We were just talking abou’ Sage’s boyfriend!” Soap blurts out. Is he serious? This shit is SO awkward! When did Simon even get in here! Must’ve been too delirious to notice.

You shuffle your feet under the table, looking down to your lap seeing that Johnny’s hand still grips your thigh.

“The Bloke’s been mistreating our girl. Rough” Gaz snorts, patting your back, accidentally spilling a drop on Johnny’ shoulder while he’s at it

“Tha' Right?” Simon subtly squints his eyes at Johnny's hand on your thigh. You’re too annoyed to notice. At this point you’re so fed up. When is the briefing gonna start? Is it hot in here or am I the only one because everyone else seems to be alright. Get out of your head Sage! Out!

You start to feel your palms sweat. Is this really morning guilt!? Too in your head to realize that the meeting has started. You knew it was gonna be a long day.

Nonetheless, the meeting goes by smoothly, just going over the agenda and then getting on to do your own things. Luckily, you had business with Price all the way across base, so you were basically away from Simon all day, which left you to focus on more important things, and before you knew it, the day was over.

—--

The drive home was quiet and gloomy, the white noise was deafening honestly and the fog that surrounded your car made it hard to see. It was that time of the year, it was getting colder and darker. Nights like these were when you really wanted someone to hold. Didn’t even feel like turning on the radio, didn’t even feel like crying. Just thinking to yourself. Thinking that maybe a quick pit stop wouldn’t hurt and surely Katy wouldn’t mind any guests.

By the way, Katy’s my best friend, she’s a fashion designer for a local record label so she’s always in that scene. Hanging around those cool small bands and stuff.

You ran to the liquor store real quick, just a couple of blocks away from Katy’s house, and just as you were walking up to the counter, you saw her.

She seemed to have been purchasing condoms or something, the thought made you sad. You already know who those are for. She bags up her items and turns around on her heel to exit until she sees you with a gloomy look on your face.

She gasps “Oh! Sage..? That’s your name right? Didn’t think I’d bump into you here. WHat are you doing? It’s so late out” she chuckles and smiles at you brightly.

God you felt sick. If only she knew the stuff that you did behind her back, she’d hate you. Her smile is just so pure and unknowing. The type of smile that makes you wanna stop sneaking around.

“Hehe…yeah it’s Sage. Just uhm…getting some drinks. Getting ready to head over to my friend y’know” You laugh nervously, placing the pack of beer on the counter.

She smiles and pats your shoulder. “Well be careful with all of that. I’ll be seeing you around. Bye bye!” She exclaims and walks off to her car.

The drive over to Katy’s house had your ears ringing. That might’ve been a wake up call. She’s just so nice and friendly. If you weren’t so guilty, the two of you could’ve actually been good friends. Alright then it’s decided.

—------

“Sooo...Your ultimate plan is to just ignore him..?” Katy squints her eyes at you all concerned.

“Yeah! I mean it should be easy. I’ll use Chel as motivation, maybe I can even become friends with her!”

Katy sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose like this bitch can’t be serious. Ever since you told Katy about your little fling, she’s been viewing you differently. Of course she’ll always love you but she acknowledges that what you’re doing is just morally wrong. So wrong. She just sighs and looks at you with a defeated look.

“Welp. If that’s what you think. Love always wins though. Because I mean...you can’t just ignore him forever. You work with the man. He’s your higher up for fucks sake!” she pauses and shakes her head “If you don’t formally break things off with him, things aren’t gonna end up like how you want them to.” Katy bites her inner cheek, before getting up to get a glass of water and you’re left, sat there on the carpeted floor of her living room, letting her words replay over and over again in your head.

They rung in your ears for hours and hours, even after you got home, laid awake in your comforter. The dark room brings negativity to your thoughts and before you knew it, you were crying hard, just bawling your eyes out. You didn’t know what to do, you felt like you were stuck, but you love him so much, it’s gonna be so hard to let him go.

Katy also said something that kind of made you feel better, “You know, It’s his fault too. At the end of the day, He’s the border between the two of you women. He’s leading both of you on and that’s not okay.”

She was right of course, but you have to take at least some accountability. All of this shit was just stressing you out. Suddenly your phone lights up on your nightstand, lighting up the entire room.

Lt.: Hey it’s Simon, can you talk right now?

To be continued...

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! Criticism is appreciated!!

(masterlist is coming soon!!)

[base0h]

Hello,

Heard you’re looking for ideas so…

Here’s a crack one: The Straw hats working in a department store

Would they become employee of the month? Would they be fired immediately?

a/n - IM WHEEZING AT THIS— you are GENIUS bro holy crap 😭🫶 dude luffy would get fired so fast it’s insane— and imma just add everyone bc why not 😂

Warnings ⚠️ - MAJOR crack, multiple characters, I’m kinda dumb and might’ve forgotten people

they didn’t even make it past the interview 💀

.✩ kidd (tried killing the interviewer for asking him why he wanted to work there “I really am passionate about restocking— MF IM BROKE.”), buggy, bonney, paulie (did the same thing as kidd plus he parked in the manager’s parking spot)

literally within the first few seconds of the interview they’re hired | “My name is—“ “Can you start within the next few seconds?”

.✩ jimbei, koby, sabo, koala, izou, kaku, vivi

got fired the same day they started

.✩ luffy (ate the entire produce section and then asked the manager “is there more stuff in the back?”), corazon (he accidentally burnt the place down 😀), sanji (confessed his love and asked several female customers to marry him at his cash register), brook (asked for some poor random woman’s underwear 💀)

employee of the month every single month

.✩ jimbei, koby (old people always say how sweet he is to the manager bc he always helps them get the things they can’t reach 😭🫶), tashigi (kids hate her bc she catches them and scolds them if they take an extra candy/sticker from the cashier jar), vivi (accidentally gave herself this title when she’s the manager 💀)

the manager of the store

.✩ nami (steals money from the safe sometimes), aokiji (he literally never shows up to work on time and doesn’t give a shit what the employees do), akainu, fujitora, shanks (bro also does not care and comes to work hungover), dragon (has not shown up once since the interview), sengoku, garp, dadan, vivi, magellan

the sale sign flipper guy

.✩ zoro (if he manages to actually find his way to the store), bepo, ace, shachi, penguin, queen (you legit can’t miss him as you’re driving by 💀), yamato, oden, cat viper, bon clay, ivankov

they work solely in the back to avoid human interaction as much as possible

.✩ mihawk, law, smoker (he’s the guy that mans the big crane machine that moves huge boxes), hawkins, king, katakuri, smoker, lucci

they’re the CEOs of companies that are partners with the store and provide goods for the store to sell

.✩ crocodile (provides gut/immune supporting, healthy, all organic animal/pet food), doflamingo, kaido, big mom, whitebeard, moria (sells and produces copious amounts of Halloween costumes and other decorations)

actually decent employees

.✩ usopp, benn, x drake, robin, nojiko, baby 5, monet, vergo, franky, icebarg, bellamy (SHADOW FROM SK8 PLS TELL ME YALL SEE IT), hachi, killer

they start tweaking because they asked a customer how they were and they ignored them

.✩ shirahoshi (sobbing), bepo, sanji (asked a girl who had her headphones on), Uta (will get so pressed that they ignored her when in reality they just had headphones on)

they’re the reason why the store’s still in business | they’re basically the mascot

.✩ chopper, bepo, carrot, cat viper, dog storm

the dude everyone goes to for questions/help | “Idk go ask ___”

.✩ franky (has beef with cash register 4 bc it stops working for no reason only during his lunch break and never when he’s not doing anything), icebarg, kaku, usopp, lucci, jack, king, robin, jimbei

they’re the reason why no one likes to shop there | they have several weird allegations or felonies of some sort

.✩ trebol, caesar, diamante, dellinger, pica (he drives this mini car and always somehow fits inside it and takes up two spots in the parking lot), absalom, hogback (people have gone missing in the parking lot it’s scary), moria (would you wanna shop if you saw bro? Ik I wouldn’t 😭)

jobless for life ✌️

.✩ rayleigh (he slays idc), roger, yasopp

a/n - I think i forgot people but eh 💀 the one piece brainrot is so back 🙏

[jojo-schmo]

Beast Pack Babies™️!

Coming soon to PBS Kids!!

-aggressively makes up my own lore for the Beast Pack council because there is so little to go off of in canon-

Here we have a quartet of childhood friends that go on all kinds of adventures in the forgotten land they live in! They're all very different but are still close to one another!

I think when they're young they're still really just animals. No decorative clothing or jewelry or accessories like their adult selves. But as they grow up and continue exploring the forgotten world, they each start developing styles of their own while adopting some of the customs of the lost culture they found. That is how as adults, they founded and took leadership of the Beast Pack to organize and find the Ultimate Life Form’s missing half. But that is years into the future….

Carol and Leon are close in age, but Carol is just a little bit older. Which lets her hit a growth spurt first and enjoy being taller than Leon for a few precious years- at least before Leon doubles in size in his teen years!

Carol is the extroverted troublemaker. She initiates most of their adventures. She’s curious, expressive and daring. A girl of action and excitement! But also can be reckless in her youth.

Leon is quieter, introverted, and careful. But really gets into the adventures and exploring after a bit of encouragement by Carol. Usually the one to come up with the plans to fix things when something goes wrong. This strategist mindset comes in handy throughout his life!

Gori is the youngest. Very very quiet, but has the most sarcastic comebacks of them all. The physically strongest of the group, even as a kid. He doesn’t gain the “Mondo” suffix to his name until he grows up to be the largest and tallest beast of them all.

Sillydillo is a nickname. When asked about this, Silly just responds that it’s parents forgot it’s birth name. Whether that’s actually true has never been proven. But nobody really cares. Silly is just Silly. And Silly does whatever it feels like doing. Including collecting every single mildly interesting artifact it finds and learning how they worked. …including taking things apart and putting them back together in a new and interesting way!

These are just a few of the thoughts I have about what they might’ve been like as children…. I think I may have dropped myself into another rabbit hole of character developing. Heehee.

[nuetralizedevangelist]

❝call it what you want.❞ || jack champion x reader

request- Jack champion x Reader where jack comes home for a bit and the goes on a road trip w his friends and y/n and jack and reader are best friends but ended up confessing there love on the trip 🙏

a/n: this is cute i actually really like this one please don’t flop

WARNINGS- driving, ocean, and the dark! let me know if i missed any <3

SHE ANXIOUSLY TAPPED her fingers on the steering wheel after finding the correct gate. she felt as if she was going to throw up, after only seeing his face on screens for years, she’d almost forgotten what he actually looked like. what he felt like. she was pulled out of her thoughts from the sound of the passenger door opening and she was met with jacks beaming smile.

“oh my god, you’re like actually here.” she says while opening her own door and trying to dodge the passing cars. she helped him put his luggage in the back of her car and turned to look at him. she grabbed the sides of his face in her hands and smiled so hard she felt as if her cheeks might fall off. “yeah, i’m like actually here.” he whispered and pulled her into a tight hug.

“they’re totally gonna freak when they see you, jack! we also decorated my house and might’ve thrown a welcome home party.” she whispered the last bit as she trailed off and unlocked the door. as the pair of teenagers walked through the hallway and flipped on the lights, all of their friends jumped out from behind furniture and screamed unintelligible words at the boy.

the music was quiet as it mixed with the soft conversations floating through the air, mostly friends asking jack about acting and how cool california is. he’d nod along politely but he wasn’t really listening, not when she was sitting across of him showing a friend something on her phone. she’d changed a lot, but he knew it was only physically. she just looked so much prettier in real life than through his phone screen.

“i vote we watch scream six!” “no, that’s so awkward! jack, what do you want to watch? you’re the guest here.” she whispered as she set her hand on his knee and looked at him with those oh-so-soft eyes he’d grown to miss. “uh, fuck, i have no clue, can we just scroll through until we find something?”

the group had somehow settled on watching the most terrifying movie jack had ever laid his eyes on, the conjuring, she laughed softly and teased the boy every time he covered his eyes or shoved his head into her shoulder. she seemed to be the only person not on the brink of tears. “how are you not scared? this is the scariest fucking thing i’ve ever seen in my life!” their friend asked, cutting through the silence of the room. “i don’t believe in ghosts, man. it’s cool cgi and stuff but it just doesn’t scare me.”

“i know what’ll scare you.” the movie had been paused and the group gathered on the floor. flashlights for each person laid on the ground. “we’re gonna play bodies bodies bodies, and i’m going to make it my mission to scare the shit out of you.”

the names of the killers had been pulled and the countdown had begun. she wandered throughout her dark house and grew uneasy at the feeling of being watched. she heard a creak in the floorboard behind her and whipped around with her flashlight, breathing heavily. “whoever that was, fuck you.” she whispered into the seemingly empty darkness. “i’m sure you’d like to.” a voice whispered behind her and she dropped her flashlight. she turned around and started hitting against jacks chest. “not funny, you asshole!” he laughed off the assault he was receiving and wrapped his arms around her to stop her from moving. “what do you say, we go hide in a closet and wait for a body to be found?” she narrowed her eyes at him and backed up, picking up her flashlight. “why are you trying to get me alone? so you can kill me and leave me all alone in the dark?”

she saw his perfectly white teeth as he leaned closer to her. “i wouldn’t leave you alone, i’d wait with your dead body.” she rolled her eyes and pushed him away. her mouth had opened to hurl insults before she heard the group downstairs yelling.

her childhood friend, jessica, lay motionless on the floor trying to stifle her laughter. “i haven’t seen jack the entire time, i ran into basically everyone but jack and you.” their friend pointed his finger at them, accusingly. “she was with me, i didn’t see her kill anyone.” jack replied in an almost over-confident tone.

the lights had been turned back off and she quickly beelined back up the stairs to hide in a bathroom. she could hear her own heartbeat screaming in her ears as she sat quietly. the door opened and she shuffled further into the tub and covered her mouth. the moonlight only allowing her to see a silhouette standing in front of the shower curtain, and they tilted their head to the right and slowly pulled the curtain back.

her eyes widened as she was met with jacks beaming smile and she relaxed before he squatted down and whispered “gotcha.”. he poked her knee and she was filled with shock and a minuscule amount of amusement. “are you kidding me, jack? you waited this long to kill me?” “you’re dead, you’re not supposed to be talking.”

the cars were filled with quiet and tired teenagers, most of them already back asleep. the only ones awake in the first van was the driver, jack, and her. she’d been staring out the window with her headphones on, watching the trees and streets she’d known for her whole life, pass by. jack had also been reminiscing, but about her. his eyes raked over every inch of her body as he thought about the years he’d missed, and how she’d grown and changed without him.

she turned her head and he quickly looked out his own window, failing miserably at not looking suspicious. he felt a light prod at his shoulder and turned to face her, she looked so gentle under her copious amounts of blankets and snacks littered on the car floor. “what’re you thinking about? you look serious, it’s weird.” his eyes gravitated to his shoes as he muttered out “just how much i’ve missed.” she furrowed her eyebrows and shot him a hopeful smile. “this whole trip is us making up for lost time, plus you were literally living out your dream. don’t feel bad about that.”

the van had parked at the rest stop and the original driver, jessica, announced she was tired of driving and wanted to switch. she lifted her head from jacks shoulder and adjusted to the light, “i can drive, jess.” and she found herself in the drivers seat trying to connect her phone to the bluetooth. she hadn’t even seen jack exit the vehicle until he was sitting comfortably in the passenger seat. she stopped her attempts at her phone and looked up at him. “jus’ thought you could use some company up here.”

the faint words of taylor swift were floating through the car but jacks loud voice was drowning her beautiful lyrics out. “the blood actually tasted really bad, i didn’t like filming those scenes.” she threw her head back laughing and the sun caught her perfectly. “you’re so pretty when you laugh” it was like his brain turned into mush and he forgot how to shut his mouth. “only when i laugh? that’s so mean.” she smiles while keeping her eyes on the road. “no! i mean like, um, you get what i mean, right?”

the vans headlights illuminated the beach house and the once sleepy and moody teenagers were suddenly happier than the elderly at bingo. as the rooms were being called and fought over, she silently slipped into the furthest room of the hallway and jack followed. “can i room with you? brent kicks when he sleeps.” he whispered and she smiled “yeah so do i, i actually do full martial arts routines when i’m sleeping. but you can totally room with me!” she jokes while she sets her bags on the floor and collapsing onto the bed, he always followed her. throughout whatever she did.

he shifted uncomfortably and as quietly as possible to avoid waking her. he honestly feels like he would’ve gotten more sleep rooming with brent, at-least brent isn’t a pretty girl he’s had a crush on for years. the moonlight barley illuminates the room, just enough to see out onto the beach.

the waves crashed so beautifully and naturally across the rocks as he sat on the shore just staring. thinking about how comfortable he was, how hungry he was, and her. always her. and as if god was listening to his prayers, she took a seat next to him. she clutched her cardigan tightly across her chest as they sat in silence.

“it’s weird having you back, you know? i got so used to being without you for years and suddenly you’re right next to me again, like nothing happened. you’re taller now.” she whispers out, it could almost be mistaken for wind cascading over the waves. “you grew too, just in ways you haven’t noticed. like, you don’t cover your mouth when you laugh anymore.” she nods softly and hums. “did you miss me at all?” he barley heard it. “a lot. especially when i had a bad day and you weren’t there to cook me dinner and let me talk about it.”

“i missed you too. nothing was ever the same after you left, and no one ever wanted to try my new recipes like you did.” he looks over at her after fighting the urge the entire time. “when i leave, would you go with me?” the air around them was so warm and inviting, they could’ve fallen asleep there. she nods and opens her mouth to but quickly shuts it while thinking. “can i tell you something?” he mutters a soft agreement and turns fully towards her. “but you have to promise it won’t make things weird between us.” he holds his pinky out and smiles. “i promise.”

“i’ve had like the biggest crush on you since we met.” their eyes bored into each others and she began to regret her confession. “i know. i have too, i’m really obsessed with you to a worrying extent.” her laugh cut through the silence and her head settled on his shoulder.

he felt as if they were the only people in the world, and in some ways they were.

[multidimensionalmusicalmess]

A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder and the subversion of expectations

I’ve been thinking a lot about GGLAM lately, and I wanted to write a quick post about the way it subverts expectations and why it’s so absurdly funny in a very particular way I don’t see often.

The plot of GGLAM—that is, what’s technically going on—is a tragedy right up until the last ten minutes. We have a poor, disowned man who, to avenge someone he dearly loved, is tempted into becoming a serial killer, in the process still fails to win (again, until the last minute) the girl he loves, and is captured for a crime he didn’t commit and ultimately planned to be executed. You could make a Shakespearean tragedy out of that and nobody would bat an eye.

Except that’s not how the story feels, because those are only the events. Despite having all the plot elements of a tragedy with a protagonist who engineers his own downfall out of a desire for revenge, through several bizarre twists of fate, he simply finds that vengeance is actually what he needed to be happy, gets all the money, and gets both of the girls.

There are also so many individual moments where the show sets up some audience expectation in a very stereotypical way and then just. Ignores it, which is where a lot of the comedy comes from.

For example!

Monty visibly leaves his scarf at Chisolmere, and then immediately worries in voiceover that he might’ve left something behind. Traditionally, this would come back to disadvantage him in the end. It doesn't, however; in fact, it never comes up again.

Monty ends up falling in love with Phoebe, someone whose beloved brother he murdered. We’d expect in any other story that, eventually, Phoebe would find out about this and it would ruin their fairy-tale romance—but Phoebe just never finds out, and ends up helping break Monty out of jail (more on that in a bit).

This is a brief one, but Monty temporarily vacillates over the idea of having to kill Asquith Sr, because he’s grown close to the man who helped him escape poverty. We wonder for a few seconds how he’s going to deal with this—

And then Asquith Sr. dies of a heart attack and Monty immediately shrugs and moves on, moral quandary forgotten by both him and the story.

Something similar happens with Lady Hyacinth—after being the hardest to kill, she shows back up again, and you wonder briefly if that might cause problems, but she dies in the very same twenty-second scene.

Now, none of this is especially unique; the show is a farce, after all. However, there's another layer of misdirection, because GGLAM not only subverts the conventions of non-comic stories, but of the ironic tone it sets up itself, particularly in act two.

In act two, we meet Adalbert and Eugenia D'Ysquith, the present earl and countess of Highhurst—and they're absolutely miserable in the position that Monty is trying to attain for himself. Adalbert clearly has PTSD, and while this is (successfully) played for laughs, his behavior calls into question the straightforward nature of Monty's quest for revenge. Essentially, seeing a character miserable in the position our protagonist is aspiring towards begins to create the expectation that Monty is simply trapping himself in an ironic cycle whereby he takes the place of the D'Ysquith family and inherits all of their miseries with it.

This is furthered by Chauncey's scene. This is a personal favorite of mine; in it, Chauncey (the janitor in Pentonville Prison) reveals himself to Monty as a D'Ysquith, and, when asked by Monty if he's never felt ill-treated by the family, says "They don't even know me. I ain't got none of the advantages of being a D'Ysquith, but I ain't got none of their troubles neither." This scene is just dripping with the energy of a moral lesson; Monty, on the eve of his probable execution for his crimes in the name of attaining a title and avenging his mother, meets a man in nearly the exact position Monty himself started in, who elected not to pursue anything ambitious and ended up content anyway. The obvious implication is that Monty has made nothing but trouble for himself with his actions, and will end up just another miserable rich person even if he isn't executed.

Immediately after that, this tone is compounded by Phoebe's arrival, during which (in direct response to Monty's expressed optimism, no less) she bursts into tears at the revelation that Sibella loves Monty. The love triangle has been revealed, and seemingly had its expected consequences. Everything is falling apart.

It's worth noting when this happens as well. From the beginning, the show has been set within a framing device of Monty's recollections as written in his memoirs, and, immediately after the conversations with Phoebe and Chauncey, that framing device concludes.

The show, however, does not—and immediately after Phoebe leaves in tears upon learning of Sibella's love for Monty, "That Horrible Woman" begins, in which it's made clear that the only reason either Sibella or Phoebe cares about Monty's unfaithfulness at this point is that it'll allow them to get him out of jail. Famously, the love triangle ends not in conflict, but with both women deciding to share Monty (and, we imagine, with the death of one Lionel Holland immediately after the show's conclusion, though that's a personal theory rather than anything specified).

Not only that, but a number of things quickly make clear that Monty is not inheriting the "troubles" of being a D'Ysquith; instead, his release from prison is greeted by cheering crowds and public acclaim, alongside Phoebe and Sibella. Rather than an ironic ending, we get a straightforward one: Monty just gets everything he wants. There are no consequences. Violence and power and the misery of the rich do not beget themselves. Having escaped the framing device precisely when everything looked darkest, we get a literal fairy-tale ending, and we realize that the writers have demonstrated masterfully their knowledge of how a normal story would conclude for the precise purpose of throwing that conclusion out the window. The grandest joke of the show is that the happy ending is not, in fact, a joke.

Of course, one might say that there's still an ironic ending—after all, Chauncey appears in the finale and is implied to attempt to murder Monty, continuing the cycle!

But this is an aftershock of the ending's joke, not a contradiction. Monty feeds Chauncey the belladonna flower from "Inside Out" during the curtain call—after the show has ended. Having constantly evaded any negative consequences of his own actions in the most unlikely and slapstick imaginable ways, Monty concludes the show by one-upping himself and retroactively deleting this particular consequence from outside the boundaries of the story itself. We are shown, once and for all, that the rules do not apply to Montague D'Ysquith Navarro.

Oh, and Chauncey's little segment in the finale also provides a nice twist on the moral implications of his first scene by literally inverting them; rather than Monty realizing the futility of his quest for revenge, Chauncey is inspired to to pursue his own. Luckily for Monty, it doesn't end quite as successfully for him.

[crguang]

Okay sat, I might’ve forgotten to my anon mark at the end of my last message aand I’ve reread part 4 like 5 times, but still, 

what the fuck, literally was thinking abt it in all my classes. And I will be yapping, as I guessed.

First of all, fuck Kafka really wish I was tbh she is so annoying, like just assuming r isn’t that upset, like they’re just having a little argument when r is grappling w the fact that they fell for a criminal, and literally killed their coworkers and a ton of other people, she is pissing me off. Also the stuff abt Kafka and her nihilism…giving me some thoughts. Btw have himeko and Kafka encountered each other in this, or has Himeko just heard abt her? And shes so nice, calling r everyday and being so understanding…

I can’t imagine what Kafka did when she found out she got blocked. Her going to text u and then realizing she’s blocked…kafka pausing when she sees that r blocked her. Kafka waiting to get unblocked as she orders gifts for u, who keeps checking her phone for messages from u as she sends more gifts, reminiscing abt when your first met in the store, silver wolf and blade noticing how Kafka seems to be waiting for smth, Kafka who decides to text you on an encrypted number to see how you’re doing, Kafka who sees that she isn’t forgiven and orders so many fucking flowers bc she didn’t know ur favorite. Ugh I can imagine her bringing all of them into r’s house, god she’s pathetic, I need to kiss her so bad so she shuts the fuck up.

anyway I may or may not have started writing a Kafka fic 👀 tbh I don’t rlly read romance novels so idk how the typical academic rivals thing usually works, trope wise. For some reason I keep fixating on her fucking nails. Like to me, she has them manicured all fancy, but Im fairly certain shorter not manicured nails are better for fingering. On her violin ofc, obviously. I played cello middle and high school, and I kept them long, bc I liked scratching people don’t ask I was a strange kid, but I feel like she’d keep them short bc she’s rlly serious abt it. Also Kafka is so dislikable, her ego is so big, and she’s always calm, like if she didn’t look like she was trying and still top of the class it’d piss me off too 😭

Also in the wardence event rn, I haven’t played it bc I’ve been sleeping or smth like that, but silver wolf shows up 😭 like ik it makes the most sense, since she has holograms but Kafka showed up as a hologram once ok 😭 but what silver said is like “i heard u we’re joining the wardence, and two whose names I won’t mention insisted I go check on you. Why couldn’t they do it themselves.” Ugh Kafka is so obvious it’s actually gonna kill me. And yes wtf couldn’t Kafka have showed up, she’s worth like 11 billion, so ik she can’t show up all the but cmon. 

-🌠

hehfjfjgjfjfj posting a new chapter and having ppl go “man fuck kafka” is funny as hell because honestly, yeah, fuck her😭 i think it was important for me to portray how her personality can be irritating in certain contexts and how being with her really wouldn’t be bliss all the time cause she doesn’t deal with emotions much, and that includes others’. she’s not totally detached from them which is why she does try but it’s very clumsy. it’ll be elaborated on in the next part but in her mind she really has picked the best outcome here and even if she was acting in her own interest, she was protecting R, she’s just an information hoarder. being on the opposite side means you dont know wtf is going on in her head and cant explain her behavior as anything else but “she doesn’t give a shit about me”. it’s an interesting situation to write that’s for sure but im glad that her efforts, though genuine, make yall feel irritated bc thats the point hehe

what i wrote about kafka’s nihilism was not entirely true, and i did it on purpose because R doesn’t know her. i do think that nihilism/finality creates a certain distance between her and accountability. when you tell yourself that this outcome was always a possibility, that it could have happened anyway, the choice you make is no longer fully yours which means that the consequences aren’t fully on your shoulders as well. i think that makes it easier for the stellaron hunters to do what they do, that and the goal they’re working towards that is supposedly the best outcome for humanity. but kafka is anything but passive. she is not “subjected” to things, she has an active role in her future and the ones of the millions of people that it touches within the constraints of destiny. i think with nihilism it’s easy to fall into a state of learned helplessness, where you suffer through the things happening to you because “nothing matters” and “it was going to happen anyway”, but kafka is not like that at all. “if destiny doesn’t propel me forward, i’ll be the one to push destiny”— this is what she does, so describing her as a drop in the ocean isnt entirely accurate because she’s making waves. R will learn that

himeko and kafka have crossed paths canonically before the trailblazer so it’s the same in this. i like that himeko has an opinion of kafka that has been cemented through their brief meetings over the time. in that one “keeping up with star rail” where kafka’s kit is presented, hime has a lot of shit to say about her 😭 all bad. she’s also aware that kafka plays mind games in it so really for her to hear “kafka manipulated me” was like “fork found in kitchen” there’s no surprise there. one of my favorite qualities in hime is her understanding and ability to understand multiple perspectives at once, it develops her already deep empathy and its just very admirable. shes a very soft character, i love her

AND YESSSSS SHE DEFINITELY REACTED LIKE THAT TO BEING BLOCKED HDJFJFKKG she stared at her phone like “oh. they’re really mad” and decided to give them a few days to cool off which is why she sent the first gift and after that she’d be wondering whether to text you or not for like a week; would open her phone, type in your number, pause for ten seconds then go “they’re probably still upset” and send another gift. silver wolf would be like “damn youre on your phone as often as i am. whats wrong with you” and firefly’s eventually the one telling her to go there herself to apologize and not wtv tf shes doing which is why kafka finally texts 😭 shes funny asf. the sheer ridiculousness of ordering hundreds of flowers and taking over half an hour to place them inside your apartment (that she technically broke into) to surprise you is so patheticcccc i would have swooned a bit im sorry. like omg youre pathetic get out of my house but also kiss me before you go… “forget it i’ll just get all of them” can she die 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

aaaaa im glad you have time to write the academic rivals au!! typically people have the rivals work together in some sort of assigned group project to force them to interact together but you can go about it differently, like one of them’s practicing for a big piece and the other gets to the practice room too late but but the others are taken and they have to practice the same thing anyway so might as well. or the mc is struggling and kafka happens to pass by and give her some (snarky) pointers which turns into her showing her how its done and the mc actually learning from her (which would make me homicidal). they could also just happen to meet outside of the school context and start developing a new relationship that way. do what feels right!! and yeah, kafka’s nonchalance makes it seem like shes effortlessly good when in reality she takes that shit seriously and practices often😭 it’d still piss me off tho idc

silver wolf showed up in the other event and its just so ridiculous how they always have her everywhere man😭 like fine she’s always keeping up with new games coming out and shit but would it kill them to show kafka once im gonna tear my hair out, we even got to text firefly during the wardance like im gonna screammmm. but kafka and her sending SW to check ip on the tb is so stupid they care so bad😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 typical of kafka not to show or text herself i need to strangle her. the lufou hates her tho so it’s WHATEVER.

[fulltimeviking]

I'm gonna throw your question right back at you!

Please give me your list of httyd recs. Just, all your favorites. The ones that are classic to you.

Sorry it’s taken so long to answer but !!!!!!!!! I love you for this ask alkjdhkahgdlks.

What’s awkward is that I don’t really have many titles to give you because aside from the fact I don’t read fanfic that often most of my favourites aren’t just straight up fics, they’re mostly short Tumblr drabbles or fanfic.net exclusives that have since vanished from the face of the earth 😭 but I can definitely still name some.  

So my favourite Drabble writers that come to mind are CuriosityRedux/Hiilikedragons and Avannak - I couldn’t name any particular fics haha but they’re just total nostalgia bombs for me. Hiilikedragons was maybe the first Tumblr blog I ever followed back in 2014 when I joined the fandom, and I used to keep up to date on her countdown to httyd 2 drabbles religiously. There’s something I can’t quite place about Avannak’s writing as well that I’ve always really admired. I think the way they write the characters manages to feel both true to the source material whilst still having their own unique spin on them? without feeling false or out of character? Especially for their httyd 2 era fics I just get lost in those so easily. 

Also she’s not really written many fics I don’t think, I think she mostly just did head canons but I have to mention how much I loooooved edge-of-bizarre’s modern au’s back in 2014, especially the beach fics omg - the entire gang getting up to frat kid activities, deffo my guilty pleasure (and idgaf about an oc usually but I really loved grimhilda and tuffnut 😭)

As for FIC Fics:

One of my favourites that I haven’t read in FOREVER… I don’t actually know the name of or who wrote it lmao. I have mentioned it before on this page though, it’s a short one that takes place right after the events of the second movie and it’s about Astrid’s guilty conscience over leading Drago to Valka’s sanctuary, Stoick’s death, the siege on Berk etc. It’s so good and angsty and I love it so bad, just wish I could find it and read it again (this is also a cry for help, if you know who might’ve wrote it PLEASE let me know I’ll owe u my life)

Some others off the top of my head that are rlly good are Ripped by Tysonrunningfox and The Elements of Surprise by Ecoutez! 

There are so many more writers and fics that I know I love that I’ve forgotten to mention haha, but these are the ones I have on bookmark that I revisit the most! Thank you so much for asking it genuinely made my day when I saw this in my inbox (however many months ago that was now 💀).

If anyone knows of any good fics/writers like the ones I’ve mentioned as well pleaseeee give me some recs or tag your favourites, cos I’d love to read ‘em! 

[yourbestpalpercy]

(TW: Uncomfortable themes/Implied SA, if that makes you uncomfortable, do not read this or just avoid the first paragraph if you want to still learn some trivia about her)

Glitch is done! Though I might’ve forgotten to mention her tail is COVERED WITH SPIKES LIKE SHE’S A STEGOSAURUS

As Glitch has a history with being touched (thanks to her job at a club), she’s started morphing spikes onto her body to keep people away. Since she also works as a singer for a local group in Albutist (Yes, I finally made her and Soul canonical to My Story (The original name for Minty’s story)), she’s used to having these spikes on her. The only person that can touch her is her girlfriend, Soul, as she places full trust in her.

When the spikes aren’t there, though, her fur is actually super fluffy.

Glitch is a total party animal and she talks like one of those popular girls in High School. Unlike the majority of that kind of person though, she’s incredibly nice and means her words fully. She’s an honest person. In fact, you’d probably never predict she was a murderer as she’s not the sinister type.

Another bit of trivia, Glitch was originally a Night in The Woods Oc before I switched her to a Dark Deception Oc. In recent years though, she’s just a character for my own story, no longer having roots to either game (except a reference to Night in The Woods in the form of her town name, Nightingwood).

[fairy-writes]

I LOVE THAT LAST ONE AAAAAAAAAA

okay so, another request:

pair: November 11 x Reader, of course. Dadvember dabbling, maybe, and a bit of April x November but in a caretaker to July way, not romantic.

time: early season, after November shows in Japan but not SET in Japan.

summary: this time the reader is a contractor. they wound up crossing paths during a mission and were initially on opposite sides, posing themselves as threats to one another in a similar way to November and Hei, but this time the reader winds up catching the eye of Frosty Danger, as he catches theirs, and they wind up in a secret relationship behind closed doors, furious rivals to the rest of the world. Reader doesn’t know how to deal with being attached to someone since it hadn’t happened before they became a contractor, neither does November, but at this point, does it even matter anymore?

Reader’s power: deadly plants that grow out of control and can wrap around targets and choke them, stab them, or poison them. their obeisance: they have to eat food that they absolutely despise but won’t make them sick. it’s just kind of annoying.

- Frosty anon

FORGOTTEN NAMES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Darker than Black

Pairing(s): November 11 x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Contractor!Reader, Reader is described as smaller than November 11

Notes: I tried to limit the use of “November 11,” mainly because we don’t know his actual name. I thought it was a fun challenge :)

I also adore Lovesick November 11

THIS ALSO TOOK ON A LIFE OF ITS OWN 

I'M SO SORRY IF THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU WANTED

__________________________________________________________________________

November 11 didn’t remember his name. His true name. The one he was born with. Not anymore, anyway. Sometimes, he liked to pretend that Jack Simon was his real name. But he knew he was just lying to himself. 

Just like he lied to everyone else. 

Everyone except you. 

The body before him was bloated and swollen. Rashes covered every exposed inch of the body, and November 11 suspected it was also under the clothing. It would make sense, wouldn’t it?

You always were thorough with your work. 

He stood and pulled off his sunglasses, turning to look at the detective, who was also inspecting the corpse. 

“What do you think?” The detective asked and he shrugged, adjusting his suit coat before speaking. 

“Looks like poison ivy. Or poison oak. Or whatever the third one was, I can never remember. Perhaps the victim had a severe allergic reaction?”

The detective stood and huffed, pulling off her gloves as she did so. 

“That’s what it looks like. There is only one issue: those plants aren’t native around here. So unless someone is carrying around some poisonous plants, I’d say we have a Contractor on our hands.” She said, and he just hummed to show that he was listening. 

Pulling out his phone and walking the opposite way, he dialed your number. 

You picked up on the third ring. 

“Hello?” Your tone instantly made a smile tug on the corners of his mouth. 

“Were you around 12th Street this morning, say around three o’clock in the morning?” He asked, hearing you hum a song. He also heard the crinkle of paper and the rustle of something.

You must’ve been in the kitchen. 

“I suppose I might’ve been. Why?” You say cryptically, and he laughs under his breath. 

“Just curious.” He said and heard you bark out a laugh.

“That’s a lie. Did you find my little present yet?” At that, he halted and spun on his heel, swiftly approaching the body. He knelt where it was propped up against the wall and pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves, cradling his phone in the crook of his shoulder. With gloved fingers, he rifled through the suit jacket and pockets. 

Only to find a flower. You always did like your flowers. 

It was a buttercup, if he remembered right. That was one thing he always picked up around you: your knowledge of flowers. 

“So, did you find it?” You chirp over the phone, and he hummed and hawed for a moment, letting you stew in your impatience. Only when you complain does he answer you, twirling the flower between his fingers. 

“Of course, I found it, love. Might I ask what it means?”

“Get over here, and I’ll tell you.” You say softly into the receiver, and he chuckles,

“Give me ten minutes, darling.”

When he arrived, approximately nine minutes and thirty-two seconds later, Bloomscape Flowers was closed. But he took the key from under the mat and unlocked it, stepping inside as he pocketed it. He walked past rows of flowers of all kinds. Chrysanthemums, pansies, roses—they were all here and carefully cultivated and blooming under your keen eye. 

All the way in the back, past the counter, there’s a door leading upstairs above the shop. Opening it, he catches a whiff of freshly baked bread and whatever you were making for dinner. It smelled delicious, but he knew better. He knew you would hate it.

You notice he walks in the second the door opens.

“Welcome home!” You call from the kitchen, and he immediately feels like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. Loosening his tie and hanging his suit coat in your coat closet, he toes off his shoes and follows your voice into the kitchen. 

“I’m home.” He said a bit belatedly, and you looked up at him with a beaming grin. 

“I noticed.” You teased, and his mouth quirked up into a small smile.

You step close, tugging off your oven mitts, and his arms go around your waist. You reach up to tug on his tie to tug him down to your lips, meeting in a sweet kiss that makes him forget everything that’s been weighing on his mind. 

The case he’s been forced to work on.

The fact that he already knows who committed the crime. 

And the fact that he has to disobey orders just to keep you safe. 

You taste like your strawberry chapstick, and as your lips move against his, he finds himself crowding you back against the counter so he can kiss you properly. He breaks away to press kisses to the underside of your jaw and feels more than hear you giggle as he reaches the ticklish spot just under your ear. 

“No marks, Nov.” You say, and he huffs indignantly.

“You’re no fun.” He goes to kiss you again, but then the oven beeps, so you put a finger to his lips to stop him in his tracks. He scowls at the stove as you go to open the kitchen appliance, seriously considering icing it over. 

But that would just make you mad, so he refrained. 

It isn’t long before dinner is served, and he digs into it with gusto. He loved your cooking. 

You, however, take your time. With every bite, you plug your nose and immediately chase it with water—your obeisance. Being forced to eat foods you despised was almost as bad as smoking. At least you weren’t going to die early because of it. 

Dinner is wrapped up quickly, mostly because you can’t stand eating for long when you have your price to pay. He washes while you dry and put away, so it takes little more than fifteen minutes to clean up your mess. Then, the two of you share the wicker loveseat out on your balcony. You have your legs thrown over his lap and lean your head against his shoulder. In return, his arm is draped across your shoulders as he looks out on the city. With his free hand, he pulls the crumpled flower out of his shirt pocket and studies it. 

“It means ‘You are radiant with charm.’” You murmur, and he looks down to see you already looking up at him,

“Pardon?” You jerk your head toward the flower in his hand. 

“The buttercup. It means you are a charming man. I thought it fitting.” You say, and he exhales a laugh, tucking the flower into your hair. 

“You are a thousand times more charming than I, my love.”

The scent of cigarette smoke was thick in the air as November 11 exhaled a cloud of smoke with a deep cough.

The body before him was frozen and crumbling due to his Contract. And because he used his Contract to freeze that idiot solid, he had to pay the price.

A tug on his free hand, he looked down to see July, staring blankly into the distance. July’s other hand is pressed flat against the glass of a window display. 

“They’re there.” The doll mumbled, and he tensed. 

Who was here? 

Only for you to step out of the shadows.

Despite you wearing a porcelain mask to obscure your features, he knew it was you. Knew it was you by the way you walked, the way you sprinkled seeds along the ground, and the way you paused for a split second in your step when you spotted him. Your eyes met his, and he only had the time to shake his head once before things went to shit. 

The detective who had inspected the body covered in rashes the day he found the buttercup pulled her gun and pointed it at you. 

“Stop right there!” She bellowed, and you cocked your head to the side, studying her through the glassy eyes of your mask. He could see the gears turning in your mind before you began to glow blue, the mask’s blank eyes doing nothing to hide the crimson glow of your pupils. 

The concrete cracked and splintered beneath their feet as two massive plants erupted from the ground. They looked almost like Venus flytraps if Venus flytraps got to be eight feet tall. One of them swooped down and scooped up the remains of the person he had just killed, swallowing the pieces whole before lurching forward in an attempt to eat him, July, and the detective. 

Well… Maybe not him or July, but it was certainly eyeing the detective with a hungry gaze—as hungry as a thing could look without eyes, anyway. 

As he started to move July behind his back, they were suddenly soaked in a torrent of rain. His suit was soaked, his hair dripping wet, his cigarette extinguished, and he could feel his socks squelch in his shoes. July looked up at the sky blankly and then to the side where April was waving a hand, surrounded by the same blue glow as you. He activated his own Contract and froze the ground surrounding one of your plants, freezing it over and shattering it. 

He could apologize to you later. 

Meanwhile, you ducked under a bullet from the detective and skipped backward to let your remaining carnivorous plant take over. It lunged and snapped but to no avail. 

You would have to get clever if you wanted to kill the detective. 

But there wasn’t anything November 11 could do to help you unless he wanted to give away his position as your lover. And that would definitely get you (and probably him) killed. 

It wasn’t long before you got your chance. 

You reached into your pocket, throwing a handful of what looked like dirt at the detective. She sputtered and spat out what he realized were seeds.

But it was too late. 

Vines took root in the concrete around her and wrapped her up like a Christmas present. But that wasn’t what made his stomach turn. That was the fact that she must’ve swallowed one or two. Because vines erupted from her belly and throat, spattering the ground with blood and innards. Your remaining carnivorous plant gobbled up her body, leaving no trace but the blood and guts on the ground. 

And even that was washed away by April’s rain. 

He pushed the door open to your apartment and heard you gagging. 

You must’ve been paying your price already. 

He shed his coat and shoes before following the sound of your despair to the master bathroom, where you were hunched over the toilet. You retched but didn’t actually get sick, a plate of food on your bedside table showing what you had been eating. He leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’m home.” He said, and you waved half-heartedly from your spot at the toilet. 

Eventually, you stood and flushed, shuddering as you rid yourself of the horrid smell that was the food you despised. He leaned down to kiss you, but you recoiled with a disgusted look scrunching your nose. 

“You’ve been smoking again.” You said, and he huffed. 

“I had to pay my price, my love.” He said, and you still scrunched up your nose. 

“I’m not kissing you until you change and brush your teeth.”

So, there he stood, scrubbing his teeth with his toothbrush as you did the same, getting the taste of smoke and food out of your mouths. He rinsed and gargled with mouthwash before taking a shower. The towel hung around his neck as he rubbed the fabric over his hair to dry the blond strands. You look up from your book as he comes out, towel around his waist and little else on. He catches you staring as he changes into the nightshirt and pants you had laid out for him. 

“Like what you see?” He teases, and you roll your eyes, returning to your book.

“I always do.” You tease him right back, and he just laughs. 

Approaching your side, he leans down and finally kisses you. You carefully mark your place in your book before eagerly returning the kiss. 

Finally. 

[self-shipping-doll13]

And the tendency for tenants is secrecy.

Word Count: 1.8k

Cw: death mentions, swearing, paranoia, implications that an unseen person is really not having a good time™️

Noise wasn’t exactly tolerated where I lived. 

The crashing of pots made me jump first. A mistake washing dishes knocked just about the entirety of my kitchenware onto the ground… Luckily nothing had been damaged. Then it was the angry fist at my door. Mr. Davidson lived on the same floor as me. He was also the landlord. I rushed to accommodate him. 

His reaction was so angry it itched in my skin. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again…” 

“You’re right it won’t!”

I grimaced apologetically, like a dog presenting its belly in an act of submission. A taught behaviour. Quickly, I explained, made promises, and got off on a warning. 

This demand of silence bordered on unreasonable. 

Of course, that was fine. I could be calm and quiet. The noise rule definitely had its upsides: no rowdy parties (the flats were too small anyway), no thumping music, no loud children shrieking and banging on the walls. It was more than perfect for me. Late at night I’d sit at my desk, restless, listening to car horns blaring outside. Mr. Davidson wasn’t too bad. You got used to it. 

My other neighbours were far less unpleasant. 

One I ended up liking in particular was as elderly lady named Ms. Adler. She’d hobble up and down stairs unsuited to arthritic knees, clutching her velvety handbag, her feet wrapped in those soft little slippers with pastel petals embroidered over the toes. Always kind and cheerful, offering you a little sweet or a mint and patting your hand in fond chuckling laughter. As if you were her own long lost grandchild. 

She lived alone. No one visited her but me.  

Ms. Adler came to greet me a few times too. Once when I’d just moved in, and I didn’t know anyone.

It was my first time living alone - in the big city, and my new apartment was a mess of cardboard. When she saw Peaches around my heels, she’d coo and pucker her lips. “Oh, little sweetheart…” Bent down painfully. She actually managed to elicit a curious sniff. 

There was a young man who lived here too. He kept to himself. Well… ‘Reclusive’ actually might’ve been an understatement. I barely saw him. A person like that could be easily overlooked or forgotten, scrubbed over with happier, funnier memories. If only he wasn’t so strange - if only our encounters weren’t so awkward. 

Months ago: It was still very dark outside, I was leaving early for my appointment, going downstairs. He was going up. Going home? Ah, that was a problem. 

Obstructions were pretty common. The stairway was tiny, one-way, ideal for traffic jams, and the lifts were out of order for as long as I’d known them. Lawrence - I only learnt his name later - wore a sweatshirt and had his yellowish hair tied back. The fluorescent bulbs shone his face a sickly cadaverous hue. He gave me a deer-in-the-headlights stare I probably mimicked. No one could have appeared more harmless. I stopped and made an embarrassing noise in my throat. 

“Nice plant.” I must’ve been chipper that day. He was gently cradling one I wouldn’t know the name of. The leaves were glossy and vibrant, stained red, like someone had emptied their veins all over it. I imagined they were healthy. “Uh… I’ll get out of your way.” 

“…Thanks.” He looked away, grinning. Baring his teeth in a cagey wince. I could even tell he was anxious. A bit of shuffling. I hopped back up the narrow steps.    

“Have a good morning.” Not much else for me to say. 

“Uh… You too.” And well, that should’ve been that. 

But Lawrence didn’t enter his apartment. He stood with one hand clamped around the handle. I realised he must’ve been waiting for me to leave first. So I did.

This was the first time I discovered it was possible to feel someone’s eyes fixated on you. The back of my neck was unguarded, (no scarf, like an idiot) and for an odd moment I feared my throat would be ripped out. Instinctual residue from a distant, herbivore past. 

But was I unnerved or simply nervous? 

I was on the bottom floor. I lingered. From above me, the metallic symphony of too many locks. Echoing. 

My routine was mundane. I was an insect pinned in a glass box. Life here was small and compact that way. And when something was amiss, you noticed it. 

Of course you did. 

Shampoo, hairties, pens. I didn’t know how I lost things when there was scarcely anywhere for them to hide. I inspected my fridge. Did I still have milk at least? 

No. It was all gone. I sucked an involuntary breath in. This reminded me of other things I could’ve forgotten, which in hindsight was a good thing. Because just then I remembered too late the last of the dry stuff I fed Peaches tinkled into her bowl - fuck, how did I let things get away from me so often… I checked again and the bag was still empty. Obviously. Nothing left for the morning. I had to leave early for my lecture, too. 

My clock told me it was 1am - I should be asleep now. But I decided on biting the bullet, grabbed my keys and pulled on my jacket, boots and coat. Not my scarf. 

January was miserable at the best of times. But the sharp, frozen air outside was strangely refreshing, like a bucket of cold water. I was high on adrenaline, too. The nearest open shop was about a 5 minute walk. I might’ve dozed, since I blinked and I was there. 

I trudged up the entrance. Automatic doors slid open with an off note chime. I recognised Lawrence. Not honestly a surprise - I only met him this late at night, the occurrences random, but increasingly persistent. He only spared me a passing glance before he quickly refocused back on the snacks he was holding. 

The bright light here was almost nauseating. I found the right aisle, snatched up what I needed and silently joined the queue. Not that it was much of a holdup - but the person at the front was laughing and joking with a cashier who probably deserved a break. Lawrence wasn’t talkative. For now I was glad for it. Something in his quiet lifted the pressure to act fully human. 

I sighed and leant against the sweets rack. The colourful packets were borderline hypnotic to my exhausted brain. A dazzling array of yellows and pinks, swirls, funky lettering, anything to lure in those wonderful impulse buys. My lids were about as heavy as lead. God, this guy was taking forever… 

I let myself drift away for a bit. My neighbour’s voice was so low and soft, it took a moment to register. 

“Excuse me… I need to get past you…” 

Startled, I jumped, and regretted meeting his stare. Two icepick eyes boring into me like a lobotomy. 

“Oh.” I moved to the side. He disappeared.   

Lawrence didn’t come back, so I took his place and bought what I needed. I felt a little embarrassed. Did I really just nod off right in front of him? Jesus. 

Exiting, I took a fresh gulp of oxygen, the world outside appeared to have died. Witching hour was upon the city now, silenced and watchful. I could even hear my own footsteps, my boots scuffing on the pavement. I set one before the other. Step, step, step. Never underestimate the crushing weight of silence. Thoughts were swarming around in the hive of my mind. 

Future thoughts and past thoughts and everything in between. Assignments, dates, meals. Tossing around in a faulty washing machine. Step, step, step. 

The mass of my shopping crinkled. Unease flooded me without reason. Or perhaps I had all the reason; I was alone, so defenceless… Strange tension raked down my upper vertebrae. The fine hairs stood up on the back of my neck, I reflexively whirled to look— 

There was no one there. No one I could see. 

Skittish, a lone doe in a big metal forest, I felt the urge to hide. I clutched the plastic bag to myself. It would make a lousy weapon, I thought. My heart raced in my chest like it was trying to escape. I made an effort to force it down. Ridiculous. Just the adrenaline… 

I walked on, passing under dim yellow streetlights. The city council had updated most of the area with better, more radiant lamps, but this particular block was a bit overlooked. So between the flickering rays lay patches of complete and utter darkness. I sped up, and jumped again when my road was blocked by a motorcycle. 

The big scarred biker revved his engine at me. I waved at him nervously and he let me pass. I didn’t care to decipher his wolfish grin. I just wanted to get home. 

At the sound of my apartment door opening, Peaches let out a quiet chirp and leapt down from my bed. 

The click of the lock told me I was fine and safe now. I stroked her flexible spine, ignoring how my own still tingled. Her tail wiggled in that happy way. 

“Yes, this is for you… No, you can’t have it now.” 

In my pyjamas, I debated if it was worth it to even attempt sleeping. Not if I crashed too hard too early. My blood was still pumping hard, anyway. So I ended up making this late night one that I never wanted to stop, pushing it and pushing it, until it was 4am and I realised with sinking dread that I only had a few more dwindling, choked out hours until my life resumed. 

Everything was more beautiful when you had little time to savour it. Music painted in colours so evergreen. All of the books I’d never open. How thunder rumbled, loud and massive. I realised a heavy downpour was pattering against my windows. I envisioned the rain gathering and dribbling into soil, trickling down bark. The universe was so alive, birthing, living, rotting. Sleep numbed that, at once instant and endless. Just like dying. That might’ve been the adrenaline, too. 

That’s when I heard the noise. An ear-piercing shriek, more animal than human. My response this time was to go rigid. It came from my floor. I stared down at it. 

Mr. Davidson wasn’t happy. “Shut the fuck up!” I heard enraged stomping. Must’ve disturbed his rest. 

I tried to remember who lived just below me… And I hoped they didn’t get it too rough in the morning. Maybe they’d just blasted a horror film by accident or something. The incident left me giggly. Or it might’ve been jitters. I padded over to my fridge and got a coke - a little treat. It bubbled like lava down my throat as I sat back down on my rickety bed, folding my legs. 

Returning to my laptop, I imagined my neighbour was staying awake too. The thought was oddly comforting. This dark and secret gap in time was just for us. 

Then, a quiet fluttering. A perishing. I looked up. A moth was beating its fragile wings against a bulb. So tiny, this insect boxed into 4 walls. It and I both. 

Add flowers - this place might be my tomb.

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

[jackdawandicarus]

My character naming process

My friend @robinsinthesummer did a post like this so now I’m doing one too. Also I’m probably going to put more effort into this than is really necessary but idc.

The first method is just giving them a name that randomly spawns in my brain and fucking haunts my thoughts until a name a character it or create a new character solely to name something that name. The current name haunting my brain is Sidney fwi. I have an OC named it but I don’t really like said character, they are too un-queer. Sidney is a name for the gays. A name-ghost I actually went through with naming the character is Michael for my main project’s protag’s father and Sandy for this little cryptic hunter character I have. Honestly might give her a sister just to name said sister Sidney lol. Or a friend or something. Maybe-

If there’s another character with a name too similar to the current name-ghost (e.g. my *other* potential Sidney, who is very queer, is a main character for my book in which there is already a main character named Kit, I found the start of the names too similar to use Sidney for the character, Sydney might’ve worked but I hate that spelling), I begin an actual active naming process. I think of names with similar sounds and vibes (to continue with my example, Macey or Darcy which have the ending sound which I want for the character), using Behind the Name to assist if necessary. Usually I’ll have around 3 names on the list.

I’ll try to to think about themes, personality, arc, etc. with some more important characters. My protagonist in one of my current projects is named Ophelia. While Ophelia was a name-ghost, I gave it to the character I did because I thought that the meaning of ‘help’ fit for the character (also something something Hamlet something something idk I don’t know shit about Hamlet, I just know Ophelia goes mad and kills herself, which actually fits my Ophelia tbh) because she begins the story very passive, she very much views herself as a supporting character. It also fits as a silent cry for help hidden within her name, she is unable to reach out for help, and attempts to repress her negative emotions. Pretty sure Hamlet also had something to do with it at the time but I’ve genuinely forgotten.

Her sister Casandra’s name was chosen in a similar fashion. Only I know for sure that I named her after the Greek mythological figure of Cassandra. I dropped an S because I like the way it looks like that. Casandra has Schizotypal Personality Disorder, which is a pretty recent addition to her character but I think makes sense with my pre-existing characterisation of her as having ‘magical thinking’, to quote Wikipedia’s page on STPD lol. Cassandra in Greek mythology is obviously most known for being cursed to see the future and have no one believe her (though she’s a personal interest of mine and I could probably tell you everything about her if you asked me to), which is how Casandra perceives herself. I’m still working on figuring out how I’m going to adapt her character now I’ve decided to give her STPD.

There’s also a little (read- pathetic) guy I named Pigeon. They’re my most recent character because I’m tired of not writing about anthropomorphic cats, I’m a Warriors fan goddamn it it is in my blood. Pigeon is named after a bird species which absolutely no one will be able to guess from his name! He’s named after the bird because said bird has this whole tragic ‘used to be a valued pet and working animal and then we abandoned them and call them sky-rats’ thing going on which fits their character arc.

Sometimes I’ll just go to Behind the Name and look through it to find a suitable name though lol. After naming Ophelia and Casandra I needed to name their triplet brother. I literally just looked through the masculine Ancient Greek list on Behind the Name until I found Zopyrus at the very bottom and thought it worked well enough. He dies half way through anyway.

Sometimes I’ll name a character after a real life person I went to Primary school with or something. This is most common with my Sims, though, tbh. I named a character Jessica, but I think that’s literally it for OCs so far

And thus ends my overly long post!

[hugsandchaos]

Show “N” Tell

Uzi stared at the paper in intense thought. Notes covered most of the paper, notes about how she was going to improve her gun, how it turned out, what to do, what not to do, what to try, and more. She seriously wanted to work out the flaws that were plaguing her weapon, such as the recharge time. She couldn’t wait thirty minutes between shots if N’s teammates find her, she’d be dead within moments!

And while brainstorming solutions for that, she also needed to plan out the parts and steps needed to add the theoretical improvements. Not to mention how she was even going to get them!

Who knew making a sick as hell sci-fi gun was going to be so difficult?

“Alright, Uzi, do you have anything to show the class?” The teacher asked without looking up from his book. Uzi paused her intense scribbling on her notebook for her gun and briefly looked up with a confused expression. Then she remembered.

Stupid class, and stupid show and tell.

Uzi let out an exasperated sigh and turned when she heard a couple girls giggling in the “typical rude, spoiled high school bully” way, which was annoying in itself. One of them, Lizzy, raised her hand.

“Sir, I think she might’ve forgotten.” She suggested with a smug look aimed at Uzi, obviously trying to embarrass or irritate her. Lizzy dropped her hand just as another drone, who Uzi couldn’t remember her name, raised her own.”Or maybe she doesn’t have anything to show other than that creepy gun!” She laughed. The rest of the class, aside from Thad and the teacher (and U of course) laughed or snickered. Uzi glared at Lizzy.”Bite me!” She snapped, practically out of reflex at this point. She didn’t exactly say it in a sarcastic tone, but it was obviously not an actual suggestion. It only made her laugh more.

Thad sat up straight from his previous position, leaning back against his chair and using his desk as a footrest with the classic arms-folded-behind-head, and gave Lizzy a stern look.”At least she’s making something that’s actually cool! What do you make, 2000’s Barbie dolls?” He asked. The rest of the class either stopped laughing or laughed more, and those who stopped stared at Thad. They were the type of stares of disbelief that would normally make someone uncomfortable enough to back down and wish they could teleport out of the class to the safety of their bedrooms or something. But Thad kept his gaze on Lizzy, obviously not backing down.

Uzi almost smiled. It makes you feel seen and appreciated when someone stands up for you. She started to feel a bit guilty for not talking with him more and becoming friends with how nice he’s been.

“You make a good point, though. I hope it’s not her sick as hell railgun.” He started, glancing at Uzi with less anger. Her face almost faltered, but then Thad continued with a grin that held a sort of aggressive encouragement, which wasn’t very common from him.”Because I’d love to see what other neat, scary sci-fi stuff she’s made.” He finished.

Just then, there was an impact from inside the wall at the head of the class, startling everyone into looking towards the direction of the sound.

Uzi, again, nearly smiled, knowing exactly what it was. Or rather, who it was.

She cleared her throat and stood up to calmly walk up to the class while the rest were half watching, half trying to figure out what that thud was.”Actually, I did bring something that I think is even cooler than my gun.” She said. More thuds were heard from the wall, and as they grew closer, everyone turned their attention to the vent in the top left corner (facing away from the wall) near the large screen that covered the majority of the wall. Uzi turned to face the class as a pair of claws burst through the vent.

As Uzi looked at Lizzy’s petrified body peeking from the desk, she couldn’t help but think “Who’s smirking now?” despite not letting the smug grin onto her face.

The entire class screamed and froze in fear as a disassembly drone climbed down from the vents and slowly stood up with his tail swishing like an angry cat. His wings slowly unfolded as he gained the space for them and the canister of yellow nanite acid at the end of his tail dimly glowed almost intimidatingly, as if the stinger wasn’t unnerving by itself. The drone’s mouth was in a seemingly impossible wide grin, stretching from cheek to cheek and revealing sharp fangs. Everyone but Uzi stared in dread and horror.

Suddenly, the yellow X changed to a pair of yellow eyes and the claws were switched for normal hands. The wings were tucked in and the tail held a curved down-up-slight-down position. The drone smiled again, but this time it wasn’t as murderous looking as he waved at them.

“So, for this stupid show and tell, I decided to bring my best friend.” Uzi explained.

That got little to no reaction. N slowly stopped waving and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. He nervously glanced between Uzi and her class. Even the teacher was inches away from either hiding under his desk completely or hightailing it out of there.

“As for the three things I like about him, I’d say he’s great to spar with, good at flying, and probably the drone I tolerate the most.” She stated, not really wanting to loose much of her “angsty teen” reputation. N was pulled out of what would’ve been a very upsetting train of thought if his best friend hadn’t interrupted it and blinked as she spoke. He did his best not to let his tail wag at the kind statements, and thankfully, he succeeded in controlling that. And his purring mechanism too.

The teacher, not taking his eyes off of N, forced a chuckle, which came out extremely nervous.”That’s- That’s great, Uzi! Um, hehe, anyone have any questions?” He asked the class without looking at them.

Lizzy slowly raised her hand and U pointed to her in acknowledgment.”Yeah, Lizzy?” She asked.

“How can you be friends?! He’s terrifying!” Lizzy exclaimed. N’s eyes promptly widened at the accusation, but was it really an accusation when it’s true? He is pretty scary sometimes, especially with that undeniable urge to hunt and kill that came up every now and then. Mostly when he was hungry.

Uzi glanced over at N, then back at Lizzy as she pointed at him.”This guy?” She asked in mock disbelief.”No, he’s not that scary.” She said dismissively.”Anyone else?”

Thad raised his hand.“I have one.” He said. He was definitely scared and nervous (though who wouldn’t be, seeing something built and designed to hunt you down and kill you), but compared to the rest of the class, he sounded pretty confident and brave. Uzi nodded and N emotionally braced himself.

“N, right? Mind if I see those wings?” The jock asked. The lack of words such as “killer” or “scary” made N’s face light up a bit. He briefly glanced at U as if saying “did you see that?!”, then back at Thad.

“Sure!” He replied. A few of the classmates grew a bit more confident like Thad, who was now making his way up to the front of the class.

From his point of view, this was like a death sentence. It should be a death sentence, but he trusted Uzi’s judgement. After all, she was set on destroying the disassembly drones and freeing Copper 9 from the company, and yet she trusted him enough to bring him into the class and not have her gun even with her. So maybe he was trustworthy.

That trust and confidence in Uzi judgement was giving Thad the push he needed.

“You can touch them a little. Just be careful, they’re pretty sharp.” N said. He unfolded his wings, careful not to knock anything over, and watched Thad move behind him for a close inspection.

Each “feather” was shiny and sleek- almost elegant, even with how sharp they also looked. Although maybe the sharpness added to how cool they were, kind of like how the blades on those old human “army knives” looked tempting to put his thumb on the outside edge of the blade.

Thad carefully touched the blades and was practically astounded. He was always for the classic “Safety First” rule, but here he was, touching a disassembly drone’s wings! His eyes widened and the inside of them were no longer visible, only the outlines, expressing his surprise.“Woah, you weren’t kidding. It feels a kind of like a kitchen knife, but... warm?? Why are you warm?” He asked.

“Cold weather, remember?” N replied. Uzi watched them, and for a moment, let herself smile.

After just a few seconds of lifting and moving N’s wings around like a child, Thad let go and started walking back to his seat. Now, he was definitely sure of his safety and could sit normally in his seat.“Um, why don’t you let someone else have a turn?” The teacher asked.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave.” N said. He jumped up and pulled himself into the vent he came in from to leave, but before he did, he stuck his hand out in a quick wave.”See ya, Uzi! It was nice to meet your class!” He said. Uzi waved back, even though she knew he wouldn’t see it, and went back to her seat to let the next person present.

Though let’s be honest, she was back in her head thinking up of ways to improve her gun in less than two minutes.