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shameonmeeguiltypleasure · 2 years

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Oh this is my moment to shine! I'd kill for a Polin fic with lots of pinning Colin! Like Book universe and his comments making Pen suddenly seem available (and everyone thought they had been courting) like a "did you know they broke their courtship" so at around 1817 if I'm not incorrect in my time-line, at two and twenty one year short of getting herself into early spinsterhood (as it starts at 23) she finds herself overwhelmed by choices she had no idea she had and Colin has to come back to face that the "I never asked you to" might hurt more than she thought now that she might never actually have to.

Challenge Accepted: Ooooh, I’m defs more confident in writing Polin, but as I’m drunk I’m beyond curious how my drunk mind will interpret this prompt. Can I even write a good pining Colin oneshot? Idk, you decide lmao. *Sidenote: I hope I read your prompt properly and met the brief*

Post script: This turned out longer than I anticipated, but I do very much love it. I don't think it met the brief/what you wanted, but I hope you still like it. Maybe sober me will want to write Penelope's POV on everything so you understand her struggle about the courtship/chatter etc stuff. Either way, Hope you enjoy.

Colin Bridgerton – popular charmer of the ton, known for his grinning smirks and promise of cheeky quips – could only stare with something unnameable stirring in his chest after the dancing redhead on the floor.

‘How…. How has It come to this?’ he couldn’t help but think. ‘When…. When did she become so brightly revered by more than just him?’

“Well, brother, I can very much confirm you are indeed a fool to have claimed to never wish to marry Miss Penelope Featherington,” Benedict couldn’t help but comment.

Colin scowled, his mouth twisting sourly as he snatched the glass from his brother’s hand and downed the beverage in one go. The sickly sweet drink only furthered the discomfort in his belly, but Colin ignored it in favour of glowering after the dancing duo on the floor.

“Look at them,” he muttered, “First it was a Mr Danksworth, then it was a Mr Anderson and now!”

Colin growled and snatched the pastry Benedict was preparing to bite into. He scoffed the pastry down in two large bites and angrily chewed past his mouthful. When he’d swallowed the last of the pastry he huffed and snarled the last name past his lips.

“And now there she dances with Lord Debling!”

“Oh look, indeed she does…” Benedict sarcastically drawled.

But that was not the worst of it! The worst of it was that besides the three earlier named gentlemen, on the edges of the ballroom remained the waiting rest. Colin knew them all by name. Several of them were men he once might’ve thought of as friendly acquaintances but now regarded as disgusting swine hungering after his dearest friend – his Pen.

“You know brother…..” Benedict began his tone filled with humour just short of mockery. “ I don’t understand how this isn’t something you expected.”

Colin turned abruptly at Benedict’s words, his nostrils flaring with incredulity and his eyes burning with anger at the implication in his brother’s tone. Benedict continued to ignore Colin’s incensed state and musingly continued his commentary.

“Perhaps if you’d only –“

Benedict never got to finish his sentence, and even if he did Colin likely wouldn’t have heard it anyway. The music had come to an end and Colin was pushing past the crowd closer to where Penelope and Lord Debling were finishing their dance parting.

“COLIN!” Eloise cried as she latched onto his arm and attempted to drag him away from his current destination. He very near threw her off him, uncaring for the eyes subtly watching them from all angles. None of them mattered. None….. except for Penelope who stared at him with something he could only liken to…. Indifference.

“Let go of me,” he snarled lowly, but Eloise only tightened her grip.

“You must come with me,” she hissed.

“I mustn’t do anything,” he snapped back.

“Brother!” Anthony warned from his other side where he suddenly appeared.

“I am doing nothing,” Colin insisted as he winced under Anthony’s tight grip.

“You are embarrassing yourself,” Eloise whispered.

And he was.

He knew he was.

He could hear the growing whispers in the room, some full of pity, some mocking, but many full of judgment. Colin very suddenly wanted to laugh. Who were they to judge him? All because of one comment – a single sentence said without thought and consideration under the influence of alcohol and peer pressure.

Yes.

He was a fool.

But fools could still learn, they could still earn forgiveness and right their mistakes.

Fools still held hope.

“Colin…. If not for yourself then for Penelope’s sake, come with us” Eloise hissed.

And that was the key to his obedience.

Penelope.

Colin chanced one last lingering glance towards the woman in question, her red curled hair hard to miss among the crowd. She was watching him still, her expression as indifferent as ever but her eyes…. Her eyes…… her eyes were pleading.

It was the plea in her eyes that ultimately swayed him, and he let himself be tugged away by his siblings.

“I only wished to ask her for a dance,” Colin later mumbled.

Eloise had left them with a conflicted expression, it wasn’t pity but something incredibly close to it. Anthony chose to stay and so the two brothers sat on a stone bench in the gardens while the ball continued inside.

“I only wished to ask for a dance,” Colin repeated, unsure if he were trying to convince Anthony or himself.

“Colin…..” Anthony sighed.

The brothers let silence form between them, the air heavy with unspoken opinions on the many ways this was the consequence of one’s foolish mistake. There was no use in lecturing, so Anthony made no move to do so. Everyone with eyes could see the effect losing Penelope Featherington’s sole reverence and attention had on Colin Bridgerton.

“What can I do?” Colin eventually asked his brother.

Here, was a moment where both men wished their late father still lived. Unfortunately, Edmund Bridgerton was far beyond their reach and so Anthony forced himself to attempt, once again, to fill his shoes for the sake of his siblings.

“Perhaps, you should first ask yourself why marrying Miss Featherington is so unthinkable for you,” Anthony suggested.

It took several seconds for Colin to answer, but when he did, Anthony felt his neck ache from how fast he twisted in shock to look at his moping younger brother.

“She’s not…..”

“What?”

“I-I’ve never said marrying Penelope was unthinkable,” Colin quietly confessed.

“Colin, you clearly announced to a gathering of men, and I quote, ‘Are you mad? I would never dream of marrying Penelope Featherington!” Anthony reminded with a slightly patronising glare.

“Yes, but I didn’t mean it the way it was heard!” Colin exclaimed.

Anthony blinked then threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Then how else did you mean it? In what way was what you said in any form capable of being misinterpreted!?”

“I-I…. “Colin stammered with frustration.

“Well?”

Colin very suddenly stood to his feet, pacing back and forth while gripping at his hair with frustration. Anthony continued to sit and watch, forcing himself to remain patient with his struggling brother. When the words finally came, they were rather disappointing.

“What I meant to say is that I would never dream of marrying Penelope!” Colin repeated with special emphasis on some words.

Anthony gave him a droll stare in reply and a very damning judgmental arched brow.

“Damn it! You don’t understand!”

“Because you are failing to explain yourself in proper English without an ounce of logic!”

“I don’t dream of Penelope!” Colin exclaimed with frustration.

“Oh, well done brother, that’s so much better,” Anthony drawled with a roll of his eyes and a disappointed frown.

“I don’t dream of Penelope! I would never! I-“ Colin cut himself off looking incredibly frustrated while his ears burned.

But Anthony very suddenly had an epiphany. It was the way Colin had phrased his wording that triggered his revelation. The sound of his voice as he struggled to find his words. All of it was a mirroring example of the way Anthony struggled to explain his affections for Kate while still courting Edwina.

“Then allow me to ask you one simple question, Colin….”

Anthony waited until Colin gave a very slow and subdued nod before he spoke.

“What exactly is Miss Penelope to you?”

“Milk,” Colin blurted.

What.

Anthony is sure his expression revealed his judgement, but Colin was doing an expert job rivalling a Tomato’s redness. The younger brother hastily elaborated on his previous one-word answer.

“I mean she’s the feeling one gets while drinking warm milk after a night of terror.”

Anthony nodded to show he understood but Colin mistook it to mean the elder brother wanted more explanation.

“She’s the sweet satisfaction of chocolate after fencing practice. The feeling of knowing indulging in too much of it will make you sick but still doing so because…. Well because why not?”

Anthony blinked and realised it didn’t matter what response he gave; Colin was no longer listening.

“Penelope is…. She’s the warmth one feels while reading by the fire and the refreshing sensation of rain in a hot summer. She’s a candle lit in a dark room in the middle of the night, the anchor to a ship adrift the ocean…. She’s…..”

Anthony waited but Colin seemed to lose the reverent gleam in his eyes and begin to wilt. The Viscount also noticed the coming of three shadows from the corner of his eyes, but he kept his silence about their approach.

“She’s what?” Anthony prompted instead.

“She’s not someone to be ignored. She is someone to be treasured. She is someone precious and rare and…. Not for the likes of someone like me.”

Anthony saw one of the three intruders move to step towards them, but they were finally getting somewhere regarding all this nonsense. The Viscount spoke loudly, almost as if he were scolding Colin.

“What do you mean someone like you? What exactly is the matter with you?”

Colin laughed, the sound tinged with bitterness and self-deprecation, something nobody would expect from Colin Bridgerton.

“I am not titled, and my wealth is only thanks to your generosity. I have nothing to my name beyond the Bridgerton reputation.”

“You are a traveller,” Anthony argued, knowing it was perhaps the weakest positive he could name about Colin’s character.

“And what woman would wish to marry a man who hungers to roam constantly in search of something he cannot name!?”

“You are being ridiculous, Colin, many women wish to marry you!” Anthony argued.

“Many women wish to marry a Bridgerton and all the benefits it will give them. No woman wishes to marry simply because I am me.”

One of the three shadows shifted closer towards the light – revealing a distinctive hair colour that could not be ignored. Anthony took the opportunity to redirect his conversation with Colin to its initial topic.

“But how does Miss Featherington fit into this nonsense?”

Colin snorted; his back still facing to where the three shadows now moved closer to join them.

“Penelope deserves so much more, more than I have to offer, more than I’ve yet to earn. She is destined for something greater, sure to discover some grand purpose while I will always be left chasing after something unknown.”

The shadowed three were now illuminated by the garden lights, and Anthony tries his best not to react to their presence. Not while Colin is in the middle of confessing his truth unknowingly to the woman who deserves to hear it most.

“So, I don’t dream of her. I won’t dare to think of her beyond friendship. I can’t…… I am to her only a very dearly regarded friend…. And I am certainly not going to marry Penelope Featherington.”

Colin lets out another self-deprecating laugh that sounds strangled while his eyes shine with unshed tears. “Penelope deserves so much more than me, and no matter how greedy I am, I would never wish to trap her in a life where she would be miserable.”

“Oh?”

Anthony watched Colin’s eyes widen in panic, then fear before he twisted to face the short red-haired woman trembling behind him.

“Pen….” Colin breathlessly whispered.

Penelope was shaking where she stood, her face red and her eyes shiny with her own unshed tears. Behind her hovered Benedict and Eloise, both looking uncomfortable but far too curious to walk away.

“I never asked you to marry me,” she said.

“Penelope I-“

“And I never, not once expected you to.” She continued.

Colin swallowed but his eyes never left the trembling woman before him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Why are you apologising!?” she yelled.

Colin flinched, but he didn’t take back his apology. Penelope scowled at him, her eyes filling once more, but she stubbornly willed them away. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she regarded the downtrodden gentleman across from her.

“You, Colin Bridgerton are the most infuriating idiotic man I have ever had the misfortune of caring for,” Penelope abruptly blurted.

Colin said nothing, accepting her words without an argument which only further annoyed her. Penelope heard Eloise’s sharp inhale and knew her favoured Bridgerton had caught the specific wording in her sentence. Penelope then scowled at the man still refusing to meet her gaze properly.

“Viscount Bridgeton!” Penelope sharply addressed.

Anthony startled at her sudden address – inwardly marvelling at her audacity to call on him with such tone – but very quickly regained his composure.

“Yes?”

“Please expect my visit tomorrow so we may further discuss my dowry.”

What.

“What?” Colin blurted from shock, echoed by Benedict, and accompanied by Eloise’s laughter.

“I’ll expect our mamas would schedule the wedding for after the season, but I intend to negotiate the dates. Eloise of course is expected to stand by my side at the altar, I’m sure you understand.”

“What?” Colin repeated, this time echoed by Anthony who looked gobsmacked.

Benedict had seemingly come to some realisation and was now joining Eloise with her laughter. Penelope then turned to Colin; her expression was full of exasperation but her eyes…. Her eyes were filled with mischief and….. an emotion Colin dared not to hope for.

“Oh, for God’s sake Colin, are you going to marry me or not?” she said with an impatient stomp of her foot.

“Y-You’re proposing…..To ME!?” Colin gaped, ignoring the loud cackling of Benedict and Eloise behind Penelope.

Penelope stared at him with a twist to her lips that almost distracted him, but he managed to control himself by focusing on the mischief in her eyes.

“Well, why not? You’ve made it very clear that you – for some ridiculous reason – won’t dare to ask me, yet you clearly wish to.”

“B-But what about Lord Debling? Or Mr Dankworth and Mr Anderson!?” Colin named with a scowl.

Penelope blinked back at him with a shrug of her shoulders.

“What about them?”

“You were courting them!!!” Colin roared, his temper flaring due to his jealousy.

Penelope however only smiled, and she dared to saunter closer to him.

“To be precise…. I was never courting them. It was them attempting to court me and if you wish to place blame somewhere you only need to look in a mirror, Colin Bridgerton.”

Colin swallowed, his mouth dry with want and his heart aching with hope.

“You, perhaps, never allowed yourself to dream of marrying me, or even dared to think it….. But I have spent many years wondering how lovely it would be to marry you.”

Colin knew this was not done.

A woman was not supposed to propose to a man….. and yet….. Penelope Featherington was looking up at him with honest eyes full of…. Love.

“Marry me Colin Bridgerton,” She whispered.

This time, Colin let himself dream of marrying Penelope Featherington.

He let his imagination soar and abandoned his heart to its reckless yearning for his dearest friend – his beloved Pen….. and he said…..

“Yes.”

#answered #bridgerton #polin #romancing mr bridgerton #prompts #Penelope featherington #Colin Bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton #Eloise Bridgerton

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edoro · 3 years

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S2E6 Hunter-Belos Interaction Analysis

I said I was gonna type up my Hunter-Belos interaction meta, so, here is one of two or possibly three posts (one about s2e6, one about s2e9, and then one about a personal headcanon I believe is a reading that can be pretty well-justified by the existing canon.)

I am just really fascinated with the dynamic between Hunter and Belos. They haven’t interacted much at all on-screen, but each time they have, it’s said a lot about their relationship. The writing in The Owl House is really good in general but I think it’s especially tight in these brief interactions and that they communicate a ton of information. The relationship between these two is very complex, very obviously abusive, and there are a lot of layers to the abuse going on.

So I have a lot of feelings about that in general, the way these scenes build up our sense of this relationship - it feels wrong from the outset and just keeps getting more and more disturbing with every single additional interaction, culminating in the exposed rotten heart of it on display in the beginning of s2e9 - that I want to get into here, just offering up my interpretation of those interactions and what I think they imply about the relationship here, what we see on-screen and what can be reasonably extrapolated from it.

*cracks knuckles* SO

By the time s2e6 rolls around, here’s what we know about the Golden Guard: he’s the Emperor’s Special Little Boy, assumed to be the new head of the Emperor’s Coven, apparently a ‘genius teen prodigy’, kind of a smug dick, and… that’s pretty much it.

Notably, Lilith doesn’t complain about nepotism when she talks about him in s2e1, and given the tone with which she discusses him I think she would if she knew, so we can pretty safely assume that their family relationship is not widely known. (I think, in fact, that Kikimora overhearing this conversation and finding out they’re family is what drives her to actually try to kill Hunter. Maybe she can out-perform him, but she certainly can’t out-be-related-to-the-Emperor-by-blood him.)

This of course is the episode where we find out a lot of things about Hunter and get a nice picture of the bad-but-sad-boy who will capture all of our hearts, but let’s focus on the first, oh, five minutes or so of the episode.

Right off the bat, the whole thing is unsettling. Belos in general just has a lot of creepy imagery associated with him, because he is an incredibly creepy and evil man, so that’s par for the course.

Hunter’s standing there in the background, silent and attentive, while Belos gives his little acid-trip-vision speech (sidenote: there’s an awful lot of screaming in that vision for a supposed utopia?), but then oops! Ol’ Evil Emperor’s dread affliction is acting up, so he needs his loyal Guard to escort him into the privacy of the throne room next door so he can have an episode.

So we get that Hunter is in sort of a caretaker role here as well as being the Emperor’s personal guard. His line to Kikimora about being able to ‘handle this alone’ suggests some familiarity with these episodes as well as a sense of pride or accomplishment in it.

(Also, as some people have suggested with this and some of his body language during the episode itself, he might just not want witnesses to whatever’s about to happen, both for the sake of the Emperor’s dignity and his own.)

Hunter comes across as both familiar with how this goes - slowly easing the door shut behind them, staying in place right next to it, watching and not particularly reacting as Belos transforms - and tentative. He stays by the exit, looks away, doesn’t move or approach Belos until he’s back in more or less regular shape.

(I’ve seen some discussion of what that turning away means. It’s an interesting moment - he watches the transformation and outburst, but then looks away towards the end of it. Is it just that it’s frightening to see your guardian that way? Is he trying to preserve Belos’s dignity? Is he trying to make himself a smaller target, since, after all, at the end of this episode it’s heavily implied that sometimes Belos lashes out at him during these episodes or at least uses them as an excuse to do so? All valid possibilities, I feel like.)

He’s jumpy when Belos takes that palisman staff from him, but that turns immediately into what sounds like an old and frustrating argument between the two of them.

Here we get a glimpse that it isn’t just fear that motivates Hunter, nor is it only the loyalty of a subordinate to their ruler. The reveal that they’re related comes with Hunter, in a moment of stress and worry, asking Belos to let him help.

When Hunter calls him Emperor vs Uncle is also interesting. Here he’s worried, so he slips into a familiar form of address that highlights the emotional connection, even though it’s a relatively formal setting, they’re both in uniform and were just in a government meeting, etc. S2e9 also has that kind of contrast - there Hunter addresses Belos very formally even though it’s a more relaxed, intimate setting.

The visual framing also shifts here. Up until now, Belos has loomed over Hunter, either hunched over and leaning on him (but still clearly much larger), or the shadow of his bestial curse form overlaid on Hunter, or him stalking forward to snatch the staff from Hunter’s hands.

We’ve had fairly tight frames, mostly focused on Hunter, with only glimpses of what’s happening to Belos - the mask falling on the floor, the unnatural shifting and bulging of his body beneath the robes, the monstrous shadow, the oozing appendage slamming into that pillar - but now the camera pulls back.

They’re still not exactly matched, but they’re on an even plane now, being looked at directly from this side view. When this moment begins, Hunter is standing entirely in Belos’s shadow, but he emerges from it as Belos moves away, and then follows Belos at a distance, addressing him directly, not as a respectful subordinate but as a concerned family member, and entreating to be given the information he needs to help.

Then he gets excited and slips even further away from the stiff formality of the Golden Guard. His body language, very stiff and restrained up until now, drawing as little attention to himself as possible, becomes much more expressive.

He’s frustrated - “let me help” - and then he gets reminded of a personal interest and wants to tell Belos about that, since it’s both relevant and something he just seems to find interesting personally.

Then, of course, he says the wrong thing. Belos doesn’t even have to say anything, just turns and looks at him, and Hunter immediately realizes he screwed up. He stumbles over his words, stutters a bit, then apologizes while once more shrinking physically, back to that small and restrained body language, looking away and hiding behind his cloak.

And we’re back to Belos looming. He fills the frame up here, this huge presence that dwarfs Hunter by comparison and is so large it can’t even be properly accommodated in the frame. There’s all of Hunter, making himself small, while we just get a glimpse of Belos striding towards him. Once more, too, Hunter is engulfed in Belos’s shadow.

He stands still as Belos approaches him, waiting for whatever is about to happen. He flinches when Belos touches him, looks down at that hand on his shoulder.

He seems a bit surprised or uneasy at the physical contact, and I get the impression he wasn’t expecting to hear concern (or ‘concern’, as the case may be), but rather was expecting some kind of punishment, whether that was physical or verbal. But, as he tends to do throughout all of their interactions, Belos keeps him off-balance.

With these two frames, we get the possessive-and-threatening combo that seems, to me, to be at the root of Belos’s relationship with Hunter. He’s looming again, very close, with the camera set low behind Hunter’s back, so we’re staring up at Belos in much the same way Hunter would be, only pulled out a bit so we get the full effect of seeing both of them.

On the surface, his words and even the gesture are caring - he’s touching Hunter’s shoulder, a fond and familiar gesture, referring to their shared family and presumably their shared grief over the loss of that family, reminding Hunter of the connection between them - but there’s something sinister about it too.

He still looms so large over Hunter here, and throughout this scene Hunter has for the most part been tentative and withdrawn and jumpy, and he’s clearly been conditioned to fear Belos’s reactions to certain behaviors or topics. He makes himself small when Belos is in the middle of an episode, he flinches back when Belos grabs the staff from him, he goes quiet and shrinks apologetically when he says something wrong, and he flinches when Belos touches him.

Then, of course, there’s that grasping hand there. In the end, Belos isn’t just laying his hand fondly on Hunter, holding his shoulder to demonstrate his care.

He’s grabbing Hunter, digging his fingers in, emphasizing the possessiveness. He can’t let the same thing that happened to the rest of their family happen to Hunter not in the sense of being concerned for Hunter’s wellbeing but in the sense of having ownership over Hunter and being in control of Hunter’s thoughts, speech, and movements.

I find it reductive and simplistic to say that abusers never care about their victims, especially when abuse so commonly occurs in intimate relationships of some sort, whether that’s family or friendship or romantic partners. Frankly, I also just think it’s more interesting to imagine that Belos does care about Hunter to some degree. However, I do believe that this is clear evidence that Belos uses the superficial appearance and language of caring as a way to manipulate and control Hunter.

He’s playing on Hunter’s concern for him, on the connection that they have and the sense of gratitude Hunter feels towards him, and casting Hunter into a position of responsibility, not just for retrieving more palismen but also an emotional responsibility.

He needs to not investigate or mess with wild magic, not just because it’s forbidden and Belos says so but because it’s dangerous and Belos cares about him and it would hurt Belos if something happened to him. Thus he makes Hunter feel guilty for this natural expression of his own concern and this very reasonable desire to investigate alternative treatments for the curse - the treatment and management of which Belos is also making him responsible for.

So we see that along with being a soldier, responsible for carrying out missions and ensuring the Emperor’s personal safety, Hunter’s also cast into a caretaking role. He’s given quite a lot of responsibility that’s really inappropriate to place on a child, and then he’s stuck in the position of not having the information or freedom to actually do anything about it.

He’s supposed to help Belos through these episodes and bring him palismen, but he’s not allowed to know the cause of the curse or research other treatments. He knows what Belos wants him to know and he does what Belos wants him to do.

That’s a very common feature of childhood emotional abuse. The victim is simultaneously parentified and infantilized, exists simultaneously as an adult and a child. They’re expected to bear adult responsibilities and have an adult’s logic and hold on their own emotions and reactions, but are granted the autonomy and respect that a very young child might expect - which is to say, none - regardless of their age or developmental stage. They’re shuffled back and forth between the adult and child roles - or held to aspects of each role simultaneously - depending entirely on what suits the abuser in that moment.

(This very much holds true, in fact, even for adult victims of this type of parental abuse.)

There’s another sort of symbolism in that last panel, too, of the muck oozing out of Belos’s glove and staining Hunter’s cloak, a sort of literal visual representation of the toxicity here. Hunter is trapped, possessed, controlled by Belos, damaged and stained by Belos’s influence and the affliction Belos goes to such lengths to try to control.

The middle of this episode both expands on the relationship and offers up some not-quite-contradictions. We see a more authentic version of Hunter without the mask and armor - one gets the impression that he crafts a persona to go with the Golden Guard, that he relies a lot on the trappings of the uniform.

Hunter, after all, is just some powerless nobody who never thought he’d have a future. The Golden Guard is special. The Golden Guard is trusted by the Emperor. The Golden Guard is part of the Titan’s plans.

(What are those plans? Hunter sure doesn’t know. But he’s told that they’re there, that Belos knows, that Belos will shape and guide him towards that future. The Titan has big plans for him, and so he has a responsibility he’s not even allowed to see the shape of. He’s held to expectations that are never outlined for him, left to struggle and guess at what he’s supposed to do, and if he falls short then it’s not because he wasn’t taught well enough, it’s because he’s not adequate.)

He doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about those plans. He doesn’t seem terribly invested in his role as head of the Emperor’s Coven or even as the Golden Guard, honestly. He mostly seems concerned with Belos; helping Belos, healing Belos, the debt he feels he owes to Belos.

And speaking of - here’s one of our not-quite-contradictions. “Belos found me” is a weird way to describe your own uncle taking you in after some unspecified tragedy befell your family, isn’t it?

There’s a lot of speculation about Hunter’s origin and also about just who or what Belos actually is, and I’m not really going to get into that here, but if we just take what we’re being told here at face value - something happened to their family and now Hunter and Belos are each other’s only family left - then things don’t quite add up.

If Belos was able to take him in after this tragedy, then he knew about that branch of the family at least enough to be aware of what happened and know Hunter was his nephew, right? Or did he only find out in the wake of that incident?

When exactly did he ‘find’ Hunter? “I never thought I’d have a future” implies Hunter was a bit older, old enough to look around and notice he was different and wonder what that meant for him existentially speaking.

If Belos knew before, then why was the Emperor’s own family left to live whatever kind of life it is powerless witches live in this society? From what Hunter says - and from what we see of how Willow was treated - it doesn’t seem like it’s good. One has to wonder if Hunter’s asked Belos or himself these questions, and what the answers might be.

Regardless, it just seems odd, as do many things about their relationship. It doesn’t quite contradict anything we know, but it feels like a piece that doesn’t quite fit. There’s something strange there.

But aside from that, we get more of a sense of where Hunter’s loyalty comes from. He sees Belos as a sort of savior, someone who bestowed meaning upon his life. He was nothing without Belos, but then Belos gave him magic and a purpose. He owes Belos an essentially unrepayable debt - how much, after all, is a person’s entire life worth?

So we see another one of the hooks Belos uses to control him.

Then the ending of this episode ramps the implications of abuse up and demonstrates, specifically, the way Belos uses violence to control and intimidate Hunter. I find it really interesting because in a very short scene we’re shown not just that he does use violence, but that his use of it is incredibly deliberate and calculated.

We start off with some good ol’ emotional manipulation…

So here we have Hunter in the position of the supplicant. He knows he screwed up and that punishment is coming. Any sense of familiarity or intimacy is gone. Belos isn’t his uncle; Belos is the Emperor, sitting on his throne and then standing tall above Hunter, who is his penitent subject.

Belos meanwhile starts off not just sitting in the throne but slumped over on it, head in his hand - the impression I get is a sort of pained weariness, a playing up of his condition. After all, Hunter was supposed to get the treatment he needs for it, and yet he’s returned empty-handed, even though he knows well enough how vital the palismen are to Belos. It could also, I think, be read as exasperation.

Then he stands, putting himself even further above Hunter and making Hunter feel even smaller in comparison. His dialogue, of course, is pure emotional manipulation - “Is this the thanks I get?” In the space of a day, we’ve gone from him telling Hunter he can’t let any harm come to him and he knows he can count on him to this.

So the nature of their relationship is entirely up to Belos. It’s at Belos’s discretion whether Hunter is his beloved nephew, his skilled prodigy, or a disappointing failure. Belos is the one who decides if they’re interacting as uncle and nephew or as ruler and subject.

All Hunter can do is try and guess what attitude Belos expects from him and assume it (and interestingly, it seems that while he does know Belos uses that sort of subtext and has those kinds of expectations, he’s not very good at guessing correctly.)

Hunter, of course, is appalled and horrified to be accused of being ungrateful. He’s wrapped up so tightly in Belos’s strings here and obviously has no idea how he’s being manipulated. He doesn’t see it as manipulation, he just sees that he’s letting down his sick uncle after Belos said he knew he could count on him. He’s obviously deeply distressed at the idea that Belos might think he doesn’t care and didn’t try.

And then he makes the same mistake he did at the beginning of the episode…

(Look at that tentatively hopeful little smile… Trying to reason with Belos, explain his position, offer his help, show that he’s loyal and he cares…)

But this time, Belos isn’t in as forgiving a mood, so Hunter doesn’t just get away with a sharp look.

So, a couple things I want to talk about here. The first is Hunter’s freeze response.

Freezing like this is actually a very consistent response on his part to being suddenly touched or startled. It happens when Luz slaps him awake after the airship crash - jolts up and then freezes, looking at her with just his eyes for a second while he tries to get his bearings - and then again when the cardinal palisman swoops out of nowhere and lands on him while he’s talking to her about his backstory in Latissa. He goes still and wide-eyed, moves his eyes to stare at the thing touching him, and then starts shooing it away.

…Actually, he kind of also does this in the beginning when Belos touches his shoulder, doesn’t he? I characterized that as a flinch up there, because he moves his head and it looks like he sort of hunches up his shoulder, but that’s probably also to communicate that he’s looking at Belos’s hand when we can’t see his eyes because he’s wearing his mask.

(Interesting thing to note is that the palisman flies in right after he says, “At least you can figure out (your future) on your own.” Some nice symbolism there.)

Anyway, generally speaking, it takes some doing to condition someone to respond to something sharp rushing towards their face by going completely still and letting whatever’s about to happen happen.

Yes, Hunter’s been trained in combat, so that would factor into it as well - he needs to be in control of his own flinch and freeze responses to be able to fight effectively - but given the context here, I doubt that’s all of it. This, specifically, right here, is something he’s used to.

You can see that in his verbal response after the fact, when he’s thinking rather than just reacting on muscle memory and instinct. He closes his eyes, settles back into that penitent posture, and recites what is clearly a very carefully scripted apology: I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. It won’t happen again.

Apology - acknowledgement of wrongdoing - promise to change behavior. In a functional situation, this is a good way to apologize. You lead with the apology, take ownership of your actions, and say how you’re going to correct your misbehavior going forwards.

However, this is not a functional situation. This is a teenager being terrorized with threats of violence for trying to talk to his uncle when he was in trouble. The scripted nature of the apology and the way that Hunter offers it completely unprompted by anything except the threat of violence makes it clear that he’s been well-taught here, which means this is far from an isolated incident.

Honestly, I’m surprised by how blatantly they get away with implying that Belos is violent towards Hunter on-screen here - I think about shows like ATLA or Gravity Falls, where the camera cuts away to the crowd’s reaction when Ozai burns Zuko, or when we cut from Stan’s father grabbing him by the shirt to a shot of Stan falling on the pavement, but the obvious intervening moment (the teenager being lifted and thrown by his father) is absent.

Here, Belos comes a literal hair’s breadth away from hitting Hunter, and between the fact that they chose to have him aim at the right side and the shape of that scar, we can reasonably assume he probably has hit Hunter before.

I don’t even think ‘implying’ is the right word, actually. This is just violence. He doesn’t outright physically harm Hunter with it here, but functionally, this is no different than if Belos slammed his fist into the wall beside Hunter’s head. He’s using violence near and at but not quite on Hunter in order to very clearly demonstrate that he could have and that therefore doing so is on the table in the future.

And as fits that use of violence as a technique to control and intimidate, it’s extremely precise. Belos says, right after this, “These outbursts are painful”, but I don’t buy that it’s an outburst.

Maybe that’s the excuse he feeds Hunter, to make Hunter internalize the idea that if Belos ever hurts him, not only was Hunter the one at fault, but Belos himself bears absolutely no responsibility because he didn’t even choose to do it, but was instead simply so emotionally affected by whatever Hunter did wrong that he lost control of himself and lashed out.

So this scene is, in essence, a slightly more child-friendly version of Belos punching the wall beside Hunter’s head, then showing Hunter his bloody knuckles and saying, “Look what you made me do. You made me hurt myself.”

He’s not responsible for his own actions; Hunter is responsible for provoking emotions in him that make him act without any control. Classic abuser logic - the victim makes them feel things and the feelings make them do things and at no point do they have any control over it.

With that sort of logic, then, one sees how the cycle of control comes into play. If the victim has that kind of power over the abuser, to force them into acting against their own will simply by making them feel things, then of course the abuser needs to apply whatever methods of control over the victim they possibly can.

If they can convince the victim that this is true, then they can convince the victim that their controlling and hurtful actions are only a just and reasonable response to the power the victim has and wields over them.

So really, the physical abuse isn’t so much an attack in and of itself as it is another method of careful emotional manipulation. It’s a more brute-force method of terror, but it emphasizes the core idea, which is that sometimes Hunter is simply so bad that it hurts Belos, and that therefore Belos is justified in hurting him back in order to protect himself and to teach Hunter how to be less bad.

Living in fear of that kind of physical pain and abuse is terrible, but the component of manipulation there is another kind of insidiousness altogether. It neatly makes Hunter entirely responsible for predicting, managing, and responding to his uncle’s emotions, and it creates a built-in justification for however Belos feels like responding. He can always decide that Hunter was just wrong and make it be Hunter’s fault.

Putting the blame and responsibility onto Hunter like that does a couple of things. It keeps him from questioning the fact that Belos hurts him or what that means for their relationship or if he deserves it (of course he does, he was bad and he made it happen.)

It divorces Belos almost entirely from responsibility at all, even in a disciplinary sense, which further means Hunter has no right to be upset with him for it. And if you do this to someone often enough, they’ll start preemptively monitoring and punishing themselves on your behalf (which, actually, we see Hunter do when he shuts himself down talking about wild magic with Luz.)

So I think that’s mostly it for s2e6! I was going to do s2e9 as well but this is already long as hell, so I’ll put that in a separate post. Here we lay a lot of the groundwork though - it’s obvious that Hunter is being emotionally manipulated as well as physically terrorized, that he feels a great sense of responsibility for Belos while also not being given the info or autonomy to actually do anything, and that he’s clearly used to being punished in various ways.

#hunter toh #golden guard #emperor belos #the owl house #long post #meta #physical abuse #emotional abuse #look he's just a shitty guardian idk what to tell you. you know what you're getting into here #my boy my precious boy someone please help him #i want to put belos in a jar and shake him (derogatory)#emperor belos is a rat bastard motherfucker

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princessamericachavez · 3 years

Text

YES HELLO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT FJORESTER HEART TO HEART?

THE WAY IT PARALLELED THE JELLYFISH TALK??

Fjord following Jester into trouble and momentarily doubting but eventually being like “I don’t care” because he would follow her anywhere even against his best sense

Both of them sitting there, looking out at the night ocean... like they did on a ship so long ago when Jester first opened up about her sadness.

And now she’s volunteering some of it again:

“Look, you have to see the moon from up here [...] This is where I used to come when, you know, I lived here and I didn’t really any friends. And I would dream about leaving the city and look out in the ocean and think about all the places I could go.”

Sigh

*breathes in*

SCREAMS

guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuys

omg remember

“And then I don't know what. I want to explore the world. I want to see the lands we haven't seen. I want to find the things that people are scared of and solve them or do whatever anyone else needs to do. But-- I hope she's a part of that.”

I AM STILL SCREAMING I SWEAR

Anyway, we are just getting started but look at Fjord’s faces through this bit

Because that’s when he realizes that maybe... just maybe... Jester might want the same thing he does... maybe

And then, what does he do?

He diverts attention to something funny: her drawing dicks on the tower. Why? Because Jester is talking about something sad and Fjord wants nothing more than to cheer her up.

And then, wishfully, Jester brings up one thing that I’ve been thinking about ever since we found out these two coast kids had been in Nicodranas for years without knowing each other.

“I wonder if I was ever sitting up here and saw your ship go by even knowing”

“I bet”

Invisible String_Taylor Swift.mp3

okay but also

PLEASE GUYS

if any of you have any art skills and wants to give me that poetic image of younger Fjord and Jester, each looking up wishfully... she’s lonely and young and on top of that tall tower looking at the life she craves to live and Fjord is looking at the city full of homes like he’s never had and they are unaware that they are looking at each other’s future??

GUYS PLEASE C’MON

ok ok ok moving on so Fjord....

he brings up Vandran... awkwardly... nervous... stuttering about the whoel thing...

and his voice suggests that his optimism in Eisselcross was a front put to keep the others calm.

And then he says the magic words:

“Would you come with me?”

“Of course!”

Like he has to ask, please. Like she hasn’t followed him everywhere since the very first day they met. Like she wouldn’t follow him to the ends of the earth just like he has followed him through plunging falls and vertiginous heights above volcanos.

Still Fjord, deep down still that insecure kid who faked a whole personality for months, tries to give her an out.

“I don’t know if being on the sea is of any interest to you or if you want to stay in Nicodranas because you can now and I would totally understand.”

BOI HE JUST TOLD YOU THIS IS HER LIFE LONG DREAM

LITERALLY

STOP FREAKING OUT

“There’s... That is my favorite place to be. I love it out there.”

THE WAY SHE LOOKS OUT WITH JUST AS MUCH LONGING

“And I feel like there’s so much that we could see and share... Besides fucking Darktow is out there and we spent less that one day on it... That can’t stand”

LOOK AT THEM

THEY ARE SUCH A MESS AND SO CHAOTIC AND THEY ARE BOTH SO CURIOUS AND EXCITED FOR NEW ADVENTURES

Also, does his tone talking about that remind anyone else to the way he talked about the possibility of finding treasure to make Marion even fancier before she meets Jester’s father again???

Because I really feel like that’s the same mood.

The same longing for more while trying to make her laugh.

“I would love to go out there with you. I would love to meet Vandran.”

“We could make this our port.”

“We could make this our port”

“WE COULD MAKE THIS OUR PORT”

(sidenote this line alone could’ve sent me spiraling before they were canon... and still kinda does)

excuse me while i scream for the next ten minutes

And then Fjord drops the hint that he wants to still deal with some stuff in Port Damali

ONE SHOT WHEN TRAVIS

GIMME THAT ONE SHOT

YOU WANT IT

I WANT IT

WE ALL WANT IT

UKOTOA WANTS IT

I WANNA MEET SABIAN AND GO TO DARKTOW AND GO TO PORT DAMALI

PLEASE

“But... this city really is beautiful”

YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SAY IT LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAT

AND YOU REALLY DIDN’T HAVE TO SAY IT LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAT JUST LIKE YOU DID WHEN YOU SAID THE JELLYFISH WERE BEAUTIFUL TRAVIS

AND YET HE DID

“There’s always a home for us here”

hey hey hey hey remember that Tarot reading and Fjord’s future card being “home/the traveler”??????

BECAUSE i do

IF I MADE A DRINKING GAME WITH SHOTS EVERY TIME THIS CONVERSATION had a throw back for the campaign I WOULD END UP LIKE VETH

“Or... maybe we could... you know... get our- our own place”

THE LOOK OF A WOMAN WHO JUST REALIZED THIS MAN WANTS TO MARRY HER (in paper graph again)

im sorry but the rest of the cast’s faces are too good to let out

And then Jester gets SO EXCITED THAT SHE CAN’T EVEN SPEAK

because this boy

this man

this man she loves

he wants to spend his life with her

this isn’t just a “come have adventures and fun with me” proposition

this is a “spend your life with me proposition”

and while she can’t talk of course Fjord panics

much like she did after the “i love you”

because these idiots are really made for eachother and still stumbling through their own confusing feelings for each other even after so long as friends and they are so afraid of screwing it up

But when finally she speaks, when Jester says “yes”... her tone isn’t just a “yes”... THAT YES SOUNDS LIKE AN “I DO”

And they are both so nervous and happy okay?

And then

OKAY LISTEN STRAIGHT OUR OF A ROMCOM

He looks at her

and she meets his gaze

and they both look down blushing

and then she looks at him first

and he meets her gaze

and they don’t look down this time, this time is steady... because they both know they love each other

“I’m really glad that everything happened the way it did”

“Yeah, me too.”

Good and bad. Tumbles and crushes and heartbreaks and deaths and tears and fights and laughter and adventures and doubts and confusion and longing and pining and protecting each other and fighting together and falling and rising and catching each other and healing each other and looking out for each other because it all lead to this... to this moment where they are together and so sure that they are loved and cherished and that this is where they want to be and there’s so much more in their future to look forward to

And Jester snuggles up to him and Travis does the tiniest move to show how he leans against her that just DESTROYS me

and of course Fjord needs to make a joke then, to lighten the mood, because these two disasters are friends first and foremost and is in their chaos that they understand each other

and they have so many adventures ahead

i love them so much you guys

im going to miss them so bad

i love them

oh god

#fjorester #fjord #jester lavorre #critical role #cr spoilers #ONE LAST OF THESE FOR OLD TIMES' SAKE?

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Petrified (pt. 8)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: OOOOH THINGS ARE STARTING TO GET INTERESTING. Now that we’ve set this up, expect each chapter to be VERY yandere. I know it’s been pretty chill for like half of the series, but not anymore! I’m really excited to write the later chapters, cause I think the twists are gonna be pretty good lol. Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy the new part!

A huge thanks to @yanderart for beta reading this part <3. Also, ty to @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart (again lol), @shorkbrian and @sawamooora for helping me brainstorm. I suck at writing smut big time and you guys rlly helped me flesh everything out. Love y’all <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist!

5.6k words

Warnings: Dubcon, threesome, dumbification, recreational use of drugs and alcohol, coercion, gaslighting, implied stalking, ambiguous implied themes

“I think this calls for some drinks, whaddya say princess?”

Hizashi was already rising from his spot on the couch before you could answer. Making his way into the kitchen, he quickly disappeared from your line of sight to fix up whatever concoction of alcohol he sought fit.

Much to your appreciation, neither of the two heroes had pressured you just yet into discussing your agreement from a mere few days ago. Thursday morning had passed by in a blur, and to nobody’s surprise, you continued with business as usual.

And what seemed to be a recurring factor in your life as of late―luck was never quite on your side.

You made it out of the work week by the skin of your teeth. Between a surplus of particularly unruly customers, and the burden of your own conscience, catching a break was an unobtainable reprieve. Anyone in their right mind would’ve looked at you and told you to stay home. To cancel your dinner date with Shouta and Hizashi, and promptly treat yourself to some much needed slumber. But you were everything but in your right mind as of late.

Not a moment went by where you didn’t question yourself. Part of you alarmed in the need for rest, the other wanting to keep going. Unsure of whether you were just overreacting, or if the voice in the back of your head telling you to run and never look back from the two actually had some sense to it.

You went with the former. Which was why you were back in their quaint little home, nestled amongst the bustling city. And in the observant nature you’d been subjected to time and time again, they both immediately picked up on the fact that you were worse for wear. After a dinner that was as appetizing as any other meal they’d made for you, the three of you holed up in the living room.

It turns out they had a pretty long week too. With hero work, teaching, and―what they just had to bring up―making sure you were doing alright, they were thoroughly beat. Almost as much as you.

Hizashi returned, towing three drinks in his hands. What looked like two beers, one for him and one for Shouta―and a colourful, bright looking mixture of god knows what for yourself.

The glass was cold in your hands, a chill offsetting the warmth brought on by both the fireplace and the heat in your cheeks, quickly rising after Hizashi handed off your drink to you with a wink.

The blond was about to retake his seat, until he paused, setting his beer on the coffee table. “Hold on―I actually brought a lil’ somethin’ extra.” The chipper man dug into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small ziplock baggie. The package was a gunmetal grey, with some indiscernible label on the front. Letters too small, and you too far away to see what they read.

“Now, somethin’ tells me you’re probably a newbie to this kinda stuff, but don’t worry ‘bout it!” Hizashi strided closer to you as he spoke, opening up the package with nimble fingers.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, ‘Zashi.” Shouta sounded unamused, but the small smirk forming on his face told a different story.

“Nah, this’ll be good for her! Take the edge off and all that shit, yeah?”

You looked at the baggie curiously, eyebrows knitted as he fished around inside of it. “...What is it, exactly?”

The blond revealed a small gummy between his fingers, holding it out to you. “Edibles. Go on.”

He gestured for you to take the candy from him, and not really knowing what else to do with his insistence, you did. Hizashi retrieved another from the bag, popping it into his mouth. He held the grey package out to Shouta, but he shook his head, a dismissive sigh escaping his lips.

Hesitantly, you stared at the gummy in your hand. “I, uh...I’m not really sure about this. It’s just that―”

“You’ll be fine.” This time it was Shouta to push you, despite having just been more unfavouring of the topic.

You regarded the man worriedly. However, much unlike before, something new had overtaken his expression. Anticipation, expectancy―it was hard to place. But it told you one thing.

Something had changed his mind, and whatever it was, it was enticing enough for him to disregard the possibility of you reacting badly to the edible, and your concerns over the substance in general.

Clearly, he caught on to your apprehension. And, unfortunately for you, his demands were always so much harder to defy than his partner’s. Not that you did much of defying either these days. Still, as of now it was easier to comply than face the consequences of their incessant convincing.

“Think of it as making up for lying to us. You get to relax a little, and we’ll put you back in our good books.”

“Not that you ever left! But ya did hurt us with that, so it’s the least you could do. Right, sweetheart?” Hizashi grabbed his beer from the coffee table, before taking a seat next to you on the couch. Lazily, he threw an arm across the back of it, you tensing slightly at how it was close enough to be resting on your shoulders.

You knew it wasn’t the best idea. But maybe, just maybe, this small piece of laced candy would be what got you through the night. You should still be able to keep your wits about you, but if this meant getting them off your case? Then so be it. Frankly, being trapped in your mind of stressed thoughts was something you sought to escape all the time. This was a decent opportunity to do just that.

Copying Hizashi, perhaps just a little less enthusiastically, you indulged them in seeing you down the gummy. It left a strange aftertaste, so you washed it down with the brightly coloured drink you’d been neglecting this whole time.

Much to your dismay, that didn’t taste any better.

You resolved to leave the drink be, not wanting to deal with the issues that might come out of mixing the two inhibitors. The two of them didn’t really care, as soon enough you all fell back into line, talking about whatever first came to mind.

Times like these honestly made you resentful. How you wished that the two heroes weren’t so suffocatingly bothered about your wellbeing. If they weren’t, maybe you could have nights like these more often. They took up so much time policing your actions―checking up on you, hammering in their agenda, hovering. It was time that could be spent just being your friend.

A normal, no obligations relationship was what you wanted with them. Not the reality of you being their little pet project. Trying to change your long standing ways for the ‘better.’ Genuinely, you enjoyed these moments of reprieve. Where for even just a short while, you could all just look past the reasons as to why you were in their home. Just mindless conversation. Entertaining, engaging―normal.

It wasn’t your fault that they had to go ahead and ruin it.

...

Or maybe it was. You could’ve said no. Tonight, or when they first roped you into their lives.

It didn’t really matter now.

_____

The concept of time was...difficult to grasp.

You didn’t know when Shouta had taken up residence right next to you, so close the two of you were touching. Whatever they were saying, you liked it. You were giggling, almost spilling your mostly untouched drink. The condensation on the glass was dripping down your hand, a chill that you didn’t even notice. After a particularly amusing jab at who knows what, you nearly let the contents of the liquid slush out over the rim.

Hizashi laughed at your sedated carelessness, “Woah there, songbird. Lemme take that from you before ya stain the couch, yeah?”

“Clumsy little thing, isn’t she?” The deep baritone of Shouta’s voice next to you sends automatic shivers up and down your spine, muscles tightening for a split second.

By now, you had no clue how much either of them had to drink. Or if they even drank at all. Combing your hazy memory, you couldn’t quite place a moment where you caught them doing anything other than chatting away. Shouta’s beer was still on the side table next to where he was sitting. As for Hizashi’s, well―it was too much effort to crane your neck to see where it lay.

The blond faced you again, “She’s such a cutie like this―all buzzed out. You feelin good there?”

A crooked, goofy looking smile was spread across your lips. “Mhmm…” The drifting response matched your expression, light and pleased.

“What are we gonna do with her?” Shouta, speaking through his actions, and very uncharacteristically, wrapped sturdy arms around your waist. Blissfully dazed, you only let out light and bashful laughs as the man pulled you into his lap. Your legs hung off the side of his toned thighs, while he kept an arm around your waist, the other squeezing your plush hip.

Inhibitions having left you about five minutes ago, you failed to see the predatory glint in Hizashi’s eyes. He moved closer to the both of you, “Oh, I can think of plenty of things we can do…” His hand ran up the length of your thigh―exposed, given how you chose to wear a dress this Saturday.

Lazily, your gaze trailed his movements. Slow, teasingly, letting you feel with anticipation as it crept higher, and higher.

“Eyes on me, kitten.”

Another hand―Shouta’s―lightly gripped your chin. Turning your head, or more like him turning your head, your focus met his darkened one. “...Such little tease, you are.”

Something distant, uncompleted, clicked in the back of your mind. You tried grasping at it, straining to get a hold on whatever that thought was trying to tell you. “I...what do you m―”

So much for that thought.

Shouta’s lips collided with yours, ending any coherent understanding that was developing in that swift movement. His hand, once cupping your face, switched to firmly cradle the back of your head.

Whatever remained of your common sense had you weakly attempting to pull away. But it was no use, when Shouta held you in place, the force of your feeble resistance not bothering him in the slightest. If anything, he found it cute.

How hard you tried to fight them, even now.

His lips moved against yours, the day old scruff tickling your skin. That small sensation pierced your fogged thoughts, intaking a sharp breath of air through your nose. While you focused on that, you barely noticed the blond’s wandering hands.

At least, not until they found their destination. You let out a drawn out moan as Hizashi pressed two fingers against your clothed mound. Your legs would’ve shut, but he had already settled in between them, kneeling over you with a satisfied look.

An amused grin spread across his face as you unconsciously ground yourself into his fingers while he rubbed you through the soft material of your thin panties. “Ohhh, yeah. She’s feeling good all right.”

You should’ve stayed home.

Shouta detached himself from your lips, and Hizashi was quick to take his place. With his free hand, he’d done like his partner and turned you to face him.

While he wasn’t as graceful, you didn’t really have a mind to care. Not when it was overwhelmed with the suffocating closeness of the two men.

You should’ve left once they offered you a drink, or the edible.

The erasure hero peppered small kisses down your neck, stopping only to speak. “Bet we could make her feel even better…” The seductive tone of his voice, spoken low into your ear shot straight to your core, feeling butterflies at his words.

You shouldn't have let your guard down.

Gasping in response, Shouta nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and working to leave a mark in his wake. His partner took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. Even in your disoriented state, the sensation of a piercing was a stark contrast in comparison to everything else Hizashi was making you feel.

Too fixated on that, you once again failed to keep track of what was going on around you. It was more like you simply felt it, absorbed the way it was making your body react, without much of a care for the circumstances.

A common occurrence, nowadays.

And it didn’t matter what you should’ve done anymore. It wasn’t going to stop the inevitable.

Shouta’s calloused hands squeezed your hips, kneading them and relishing in your softness. Always the direct one, he grasped the hem of your dress. The hero smiled against your neck, pleased with how compliant Hizashi’s little treat had made you.

If only you could be like this all the time.

As his partner’s fingers continued their ministrations, not being nearly enough to help you seek release, Shouta lifted up your dress.

Catching on soon enough, Hizashi parted from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“Let’s get you outta this, huh pretty girl?”

The dots didn’t connect. You didn’t know why things felt just the slightest bit off, only that the familiar and nagging hint of doubt was currently fighting tooth and nail to keep its place at the back of your mind.

You didn’t respond. But they didn’t really care.

Hizashi held your arms up as Shouta peeled your dress off. The flimsy article was quickly discarded on the floor, landing somewhere out of sight. Not really comprehending whether you regretted the actions that led you here now, you let yourself get caught up in their movements, the air of room hitting your exposed breasts.

The blond noted with a low whistle at the fact that you’d neglected to wear a bra, too transfixed at the moment to deduce why.

You knew why, distantly―everything felt distant right now.

While Shouta resumed littering your neck with open mouthed kisses, his partner got to work on making a mess of your front. You couldn’t tell which hands belonged to whom, only that they were on your body. Groping, kneading, taking in how much more delicate you were compared to them.

A fragile little thing.

...How did they hold out this long?

A small yelp escaped you as one of them pinched your hardening nipple, making you squirm fruitlessly in their grasp.

Shouta chuckled at your reaction, “That was a cute noise, kitten. Why don’t you make some more for us?”

The voice hero was slowly leaving marks down your chest, along the curves of your breasts. “Yeah, you can do that for us, right?”

Punctuating his words, his mouth enveloped your pebbled nipple, swirling his piercing tongue around it. His other hand was still steadily rubbing circles into your clothed pussy. You mewled at the sensation, mind still trying to make right from wrong.

“I...I don’t…don’t think this....”

Small tears of frustration threatened to well. You wanted so bad to know where this incessant feeling was coming from. Why it was lingering.

Shouta was quick to shut those worried thoughts down though. “Shhh...just let us take care of you.”

Hizashi’s voice sounded strained―needy. “Fuck, Shou’. I can’t hold back any longer…”

His partner, being the only person in the room with a clear mind, paused before replying. Ever the hard-headed one, now technically shouldn’t be any different. But, with the way you were moving on his lap, unconsciously grinding against him...maybe his head wasn’t as clear as he thought.

...

“I’m not stopping you.”

The look of pure relief at the erasure hero’s words was instant. Because really, the only reason he hadn’t fucked you senseless yet was because Shouta was doing everything in his power to control him. They needed to wait until you were ready, even if it meant giving you something to make you a bit more open to the idea.

Deft fingers looped under the hem of your panties, Hizashi’s eyes glistening at the thin string of arousal on the fabric as he pulled them away from your core. He quickly dragged them down your legs and discarding them in a similar fashion as your dress.

Maneuvering you so that your back was to Shouta’s chest, the erasure hero spread your legs, holding them apart by draping them off either sides of his own. The blond dropped to his knees on the floor in front of you both, taking in the way your folds glistened with the flickering light of the fireplace.

But before he could make a move, Shouta spoke up.

“Wait, maybe we should take this to the bedr―”

“Fuck that.”

Without uttering another word on the subject, Hizashi buried his face in between your legs. Unable to restrain yourself, you cried out as his tongue slid up your heat, the piercing deliciously adding pressure to your clit.

Shouta laughed a bit at your reaction, letting you mindlessly throw your head back on his shoulder. His hands came to grope your breasts, sighing in satisfaction at their soft give against his fingers. “You’ve been holding out on us, kitten. You’re lucky we’re going easy on you right now.”

His counterpart hummed in agreement, sending pleasurable waves of warmth throughout you. His tongue continued circling your clit, noting all the things that made you squirm and whine in response, using them to work you over even more.

Unable to recognize the true meaning to his words, you simply let your body succumb to their ministrations. Your mouth hung open, small noises leaving you in your blissed out state, body completely bare while they were still fully clothed.

You were under a lethal combination of sedating exhaustion from the week, coupled with the ingredients in the gummy Hizashi was ever so quick to offer. It left you pliant, melting into their hold.

You felt good. Really good.

Hizashi’s right hand drifted up, fingers coating themselves in your dripping essence. You writhed as they dipped into your folds, toying with your puffy clit. He replaced them with his tongue once again, letting them tease at your entrance.

The lust filled side of you bucked your hips against him, urging the voice hero to fill you up with his slender fingers.

“Someone’s a little needy.” You ignored the condescending tone coating Shouta’s words, distracted with the way the blond’s fingers refused your insistence.

“I...please…” You didn’t really know what it was you were begging for. Just that you needed him to do something, anything. If it meant he’d stop teasing you.

“I got ya, pretty girl. Just relax now.” Putting you out of your misery, a long and nimble finger pushed past your entrance. The digit skilfully curled inside of you, repeating the action with each thrust.

Desperate for something to hold on to, you gripped the arm that Shouta had wrapped around your waist, keeping you pinned firmly against him. A precaution, of course. They weren’t going to have you backing out of this now. Not after you’d let yourself go so much, and they finally had the chance to prove how good they could be to you.

The stretch of Hizashi adding a second finger felt incredible, but even more so was when they hit that sensitive bundle of nerves with pinpointed accuracy. You jolted from the sensation, toes curling as he targeted the spot while simultaneously keeping his mouth busy in ways that sent your mind reeling.

He pulled away for a moment, enjoying the sight above him as you squirmed in Shouta’s hold. “That your sweet spot, baby?” Putting emphasis on his words, he began delivering even harder thrusts, going back to repeatedly flick at your clit with his tongue.

“You take his fingers so well, don’t you kitten?”

You could feel the coil beginning to tighten, a sedating warmth spreading across your body. If you were facing Shouta, you would be able to see the devious smirk stretched across his lips.

The man was growing impatient―for once in his life when it came to you. But, could you really blame him? Here you were, splayed out across his lap and oh so vulnerable. So cute, so fucked out of your mind.

It was time to move things along, if only so he could get a taste.

His free hand weaved itself into the long and loose blond locks cascading down Hizashi’s shoulders. The man in question gave an inquisitive look, before quickly being cut off. Shouta yanked the man forward by his hair, causing him to press even harder into your sensitive cunt. He groaned as the pain shot through his scalp, the vibrations of his voice, semi-quirk activated, shooting through your core.

That was enough for you. The buildup of heat, how your body felt like it was melting under their touch―in an instant it was amplified tenfold. Your eyebrows furrowed, muscles tensing as you came around Hizashi’s fingers, and on his tongue―both of which were still relentlessly stimulating you through your high. Even when you finally calmed down, the blond continued to greedily lap at your juices, causing you to shake and whine as you were still far too sensitive.

Shouta, a hand still gripping his partner's hair, pulled Hizashi away from you since he realized that clearly he would just keep going if he didn’t intervene.

Your whole being feeling more ragdoll like now, if that was even possible, gave way easily to their hurried repositioning. Having nearly passed out from that alone, the scene unfolding around you went right over your head. Clothes being torn off, belts hastily undone, two very painfully hard men trapping you in between them.

At some point, one of them had put you on your hands and knees on the couch. Well, it was more like you had your ass raised in the air, while you tiredly slumped against the soft cushions. However, the feeling of something running up and down your folds managed to stave off that threatening exhaustion.

“Don’t go passing out on us just yet, kitten.” The gravelly voice came from behind you, letting you know that it was Shouta who was gripping your hip with one hand, the other guiding his cock to your sopping entrance.

Which meant, the pretty and pierced cock in front of you must belong to Hizashi.

“Open up for me, songbird.”

Through semi-wet lashes, you peered up at the voice hero who was towering over you. The hand that wasn’t pumping his length gripped your jaw. And, with a little pressure, he forced your mouth open.

You just needed a little encouragement, is all.

He let out a strangled moan as he pushed his way past your wetted lips, nearly cumming right then and there at how warm you felt around him.

Shouta wasn’t doing much better in the area of self restraint, using his partner’s distraction to sheath himself inside your pussy. His want for control wore thin as your walls fluttered around him, deliciously sucking him in inch by inch.

Both of the men were on cloud nine, finally getting a taste of how you really felt. Those moments of consoling weren’t always innocent, touches yearning to go further. And now that they’d gone to those lengths, now that they were going through those long desired motions, the two realized you were so much better than they could’ve ever imagined.

You moaned around Hizashi’s cock as his partner bottomed out inside of you. His length filled you up in ways neither yours or the blond’s fingers could. Even when he pulled out and thrusted back into your heat, he’d already managed to hit that perfect angle.

Both going at their own pace, your body rocked back and forth as the men took advantage of your delirious state. You couldn’t exactly call it abusing your holes―they weren’t being that rough. But Shouta’s cock was stretching your walls just a bit more than you were prepared for. And Hizashi was slowly forgetting with each passing second that he couldn’t just force his whole length down your throat.

Actually, maybe they were overestimating your limits.

Could you blame them, though? Seeing you day after day, doing their best to not scare you away as they held back the near uncontrollable urge to just take what they wanted. Having to watch you let yourself get run down, when they could’ve been taking care of you.

Why did you have to put up such a fight?

Shouta didn’t think he'd agree with Hizashi when he suggested offering you the edible. Oh, how glad he was for letting him do so now. Because he had to admit, seeing you bent over, deepthroating the blond while he got a nice view of you from behind―it was worth the wait, and the hint of shame that came from inducing you to accept them in such a way.

His tired eyes were lost on the way you took the both of them, shamelessly moaning against Hizashi, hips unconsciously rocking back against him to garner some more stimulation. It was only when the voice hero pulled you off of his pierced cock, the sounds of you gasping for breath meeting his ears, did Shouta break out of that trance.

“Hey...ya think I’d fit in there too?”

The blond was referring to your already decently stuffed cunt, dripping with arousal that was running down your thighs.

Shouta’s lips quirked into a slight smirk.

“...We can make it fit.”

You didn’t quite know what to think. Your mind felt...strange. Weighed down―by exhaustion, some indiscernible veil, but also the need to feel more.

The two helped you sit up, Shouta’s length still fully inside of you. Hizashi eagerly positioned himself in front of you, hands wandering across your body, searching for purchase to ground him.

You did the same to him, mindlessly throwing your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back as the tip of his cock teasingly nudged your clit.

Hizashi laughed a little at your fucked out face, drool seeping from your mouth and running down your chin. His thumb wiped away some stray falling tears, before giving your cheeks a few gentle pats. He found your blissed expression, albeit a lot more intense than he’d seen before, a familiar and amusing thing. “I’ll never get sick of seein’ ya like this, songbird.”

The meaning to his words went directly over your head. Must not have been that important, right?

Unable to really register what was going on, just that suddenly, you felt much more full than you had been a second ago, your brows scrunched in...discomfort?

It didn’t really feel bad, it was just a lot to handle.

Hizashi’s head fell onto your shoulder as he slowly let you sink down on his cock. He let out a hiss, feeling your walls clamp down around him, impossibly and deliciously tight. The small noises that escaped your lips as his piercings dragged against your sensitive spot nearly made them both abandon caution that second.

But they would never hurt you, not unless it was necessary. They wanted to take care of you―even if you were too out of it to realize.

The seconds ticking by as you adjusted to them felt like hours in their book. Finally, after what could’ve been an eternity, Hizashi bottomed out inside of you. The blond relished in the way your nails threatened to break the skin of his shoulders and back as they began thrusting in and out of you, your cunt welcoming them in.

No coherent words could form in your mind, reduced to nothing more than a dumbed down puddle of pleasure. You couldn’t care less about the lewd wet and slapping noises, or how you were quite literally a ragdoll in their arms. Not when the only constant on your mind was how you felt good. Better than you had in a long time. It wasn’t a feeling of safeness, but still, it wasn’t something you wanted to get away from. For now, at least.

Both of the heroes could tell how well your body was reacting to them―by the way your head lolled back against Shouta’s broad frame, or how whimpers and cries of ecstasy spilled from your parted lips.

“...Is our kitten enjoying herself?”

You didn’t respond. Not with words, at least.

Hizashi responded properly for you. “Look at her pretty little face, ‘course she is. Y’know...I could get used to this―what about you, Shou’?”

Arms tangled amongst each other, the two held you upright as they rutted against you. Much like yourself, the pleasure they felt was greatly dulcifying their inhibitions.

You probably wouldn’t remember anything they had to say, though.

The erasure hero grinned at that thought―having you like this for them all the time. Something to look forward to after a long day. The sight of you, safe in their home, waiting for their return. Ready for them to spoil you in every which way possible. Just like you deserved.

“...You saying we should speed things up?”

Now that idea, it gave Hizashi purpose. He was aching to swoop you up―had been for a long time. His hips pistoned in and out of you faster, harder than before.

The blond grasped your jaw in one hand, forcing you to look at him. “Bet you would like that, pretty girl.” With a particularly sharp thrust of his hips, you cried out as he thoughtlessly spoke to you. “Bet you want us doting on ya all day...fucking you ‘till ya can’t walk―that’s what you want, right?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, the task of forming a response, one that held your truth, being absolutely impossible. You didn’t know what they wanted, and all you craved was to give them a reply to keep them doing whatever it was they were.

“...I..y-yes?”

Wrong answer.

The both of them moved with a new sense of vigour, leaving you clawing at anything you could get your hands on in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“Hear that, Shou’? Our baby’s askin’ for us to take care of her.”

The erasure hero gripped your hips in an iron like hold, sure to leave tender bruises the next day. “Can’t say no to that, now can we?”

The warmth pooling in your belly was growing more intense with each passing second, leaving you to writhe in their grasp, not really knowing how to handle yourself. Every little thing they said, whether to you, or just about you didn’t exactly register. As their speed picked up, the heroes nearing their release just as fast as you, Shouta weaved a hand in between yours and the blond’s body.

You jolted at the feeling of two of his fingers pressing tight circles into your puffy clit, still being jostled as their movements quickened. The two men groaned as your walls clamped down around them, the sounds that met your ears going straight to your core.

“You gonna cum for us, baby?”

Hizashi’s hand, still on your jaw, moved to the back of your head. He held it so that you didn’t merely lay limp against Shouta’s shoulder, propped in his grasp so that he could see your dazed and lust filled expression. You could only nod in response, his question somehow permeating through the thick fog settled over your rational thoughts.

Picking up on the small acknowledgement to Hizashi’s words, Shouta’s ministrations focused on bringing you to release. His fingers never ceased in aimedly toying with your clit, spurred on by the way you reacted so well to them.

The white hot pressure building inside of you was reaching its crescendo. Where one of them left your heat, the other was there to fill you right back up, constantly crashing against your bundle of nerves. That familiar and intense sensation washed over your body as you reached your second peak of the night, convulsing in their arms, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Your walls fluttering around their lengths, somehow making it even tighter, a reaction deliciously consuming to the two. Truly better than their imaginations could’ve conceived, the feeling of you coming undone caused them to tumble over the edge of their release as well.

Shouta’s head dipped, face buried in the junction between your neck and collarbones. He grunted into the skin covered in a sheen of sweat, painting your walls white while you continued to tremble in their embrace. Hizashi’s grip on the back of your head tightened, pulling on your hair and making you wince as a sharp pain shot across your scalp. Ropes of cum coated your insides, mixing with the already existing seed, now spilling down your thighs and dripping onto the couch.

All three of you were heaving with acute exhaustion, you maybe slightly more. Coming down from your high, the adrenaline that had just spiked was leaving your body, taking nearly all of your energy with it.

You slumped against their bodies, falling against Shouta while Hizashi still cradled the back of your head. It felt as if lead was weighing down your whole being, threatening to pull you into a deep slumber. And, seeing as you couldn’t find the reason to fight it given your mentally reduced state, you let it.

Your eyelids fluttered, shutting with relief as fatigue enveloped you, drowning you in its sedation.

But someone’s voice, you couldn’t place who’s, ripped you from the respite of sleep. The message igniting that strange, unidentifiable nagging of worry. Yet, it faded as soon as it came, overshadowed by the insatiable movements returning in the two men.

“...We’re not done with you yet.”

(End of part 8)

_____

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Fact or Fiction

Warnings: non-consent (fingering, toys, anal, vaginal, somniphilia)

This is dark!Ransom and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your publisher has died and now you must deal with new management

Note: This came to me out of no where but it was a ride yall. I wanted to write some somniphilia so get ready for some sleep action. Remember to read the warnings my guys and enjoy yourselves. Another double dick fic day.

Sidenote: it is a bit odd to write smut when your bf is listening to barenaked ladies lol

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It was funny how things could change in such a short time. More often, it was tragic. Deep in your gut, you had the feeling this change would be the latter.

You stood in the elevator, counting the floors in dread. A month ago, you felt much differently on your ascent. That was a day full of hope. A young writer on your way to meet THE Harlan Thrombey, manuscript in hand. You’d left even more jubilant than you arrived. He loved it and hadn’t shied away from saying so.

Now he was dead and you feared so too were your hopes of a published book. This day you were to meet with another Thrombey. Ransom Drysdale, his grandson, had inherited the company to the surprise and chagrin of many, including his very own uncle.

You couldn’t disagree with Walt. Everyone, especially him, expected him to take Harlan’s place. But he didn’t and he was gone now, buried in resent and jealousy. None had seen him since the funeral. Or so you heard. The publishing business could be almost as dramatic as its fictions.

Top floor, you stepped out and were surprised to find that Deb, the former grey-haired receptionist, had been replaced with another. Younger, blonder, and more concerned with her cellphone than the ding of the elevator. You walked up to her round desk and waited for her to look up. She didn’t.

You cleared your throat.

“Hello, I have a one o’clock with Mr. Drysdale,” You said. She nodded and giggled at her phone. “Excuse me…” You looked around and found a rose gold name placard. “...Selina.”

“Fine, go on,” She shrugged. “No one’s in there. Knock first.”

You sighed and glanced around. There were a few editors you recognized from before and they peered over at the receptionist with open detest. You passed her perch and wove between the desks. You assumed, knowing you wouldn’t get an answer from the oblivious blonde, that Ransom had claimed his grandfather’s former office. The letters printed across the clear glass door assured you. That was new too.

You knocked on the frame, afraid to shatter the door. Ransom was squinting at his monitor and didn’t even look over as he waved you on and called to you.

“Come in.” He shook his head as he huffed at the screen. You entered nervously. “What is it this time?”

“Mr. Drysdale,” You greeted, “I’m here for our appointment.”

His brows drew together as he looked up. He hit a key and turned to you. He sat back in his leather chair as he leaned on the arm.

“Uh, yeah,” He blinked as he lazily reached over and grabbed a manuscript from the pile atop his desk. “Laura?”

You corrected him and he fished out the proper print and sat up. He opened it but didn’t even pretend to read a single word on the page. He smiled as he shifted closer to his desk.

“Close the door,” He said. “Sit. This shouldn’t take long.”

That didn’t sound good. You did as he said and took the stiff seat across from him. The former cozy leather had been replaced with cold acrylic. He tapped his fingers on the pages and ran his tongue beneath his bottom lip.

“Well, seeing as we’re doing a bit of redecorating around here, we decided to do the same with our writers. Streamline, prioritize,” He began. “My grandfather was a smart man, talented author, but he valued ‘style’ too much over ‘marketability’.”

Your chest tightened and you tried not to show your discomfort.

“Of course,” You said. “It makes sense. New owner, new directions. I understand.”

“Oh, great,” He smirked. “Then you also understand that the contract my grandfather, god rest his soul, promised you, must be reviewed before we go through with the signing?”

“Review?” You frowned.

“It’s the same for all our new writers,” He assured you. “My editors are combing over every word of your manuscript before we throw the ledger across the table.”

“He already read my manuscript, your editors too. I don’t--”

“He’s dead and most of his editors are gone or have taken on new responsibilities,” He interjected. “As you said, new directions.”

“Alright.” You sighed. “And so when will I be informed of the results of this review?”

He tilted his head, amused by your tone as he leaned back once more. He grabbed a pen and tapped it on his lip as he thought.

“Couple weeks.” He said.

“A couple weeks? I’ve already waited over a month for a contract. Now I get the circumstances required it, as tragic as they were, but with all due respect, your offer isn’t the only one I have on this manuscript.” You argued.

“Lesser publishers, no doubt, but you understand that under our submissions guidelines, you cannot accept an exterior deal until we have made an official decision.” He countered. “So, you can wait the three weeks before you march down to Penguin or whatever lowbrow manufacturer you’ve been talking with.”

You stared at him. He was very much unlike his grandfather. Harlan, for all his accomplishments, had an air of humility. Ransom, for all he hadn’t achieved, was entirely arrogant.

“So, you’re holding my book hostage?” You asked.

“I’m allowing you an opportunity provided you have patience,” He returned. “I could say no right now and send you out without a hope of ever signing with us.”

The curve of his lips irked you, along with the loose weave of his sweater. He didn’t dress like the owner of a publishing house; he dressed like a spoiled frat boy. You were quiet as you thought about the much lower offer from Charter books. Modest but respectable. And there were many companies who you had yet to approach.

You stood suddenly and marched over to his desk. You reached over and slid your manuscript across the desk and closed it. You gathered it up and tucked it under your arm.

“I’ll take the no over your games, Mr. Drysdale.” You said as your heart beat wildly. This was either a moment you’d deeply regret or gloriously relive. “I hardly see how sitting on a stack of books will help your profitability.”

He blinked and his smirk fell. Then he scoffed and tossed his pen down.

“Well, you sure are saving me a lot of work,” He mused. “One less pile of kindling hanging around will save my editors hours.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” You said as you backed away from him “I may not have inherited an empire but I think I can see as clear as any that you are out of your depth behind that desk.”

A glimmer of anger broke through his facade and his jaw ticked. He was quick to reclaim his maddening smirk and he shrugged.

“You’re right,” He remarked. “You’re just a writer. Unpublished, at that.”

You nodded and swallowed the insult. You spun and swept back through the door, certain to leave it open. You strode past the reception as she watched some Insta story on a new eye shadow palette. Even Harlan’s name couldn’t atone for buffoonery.

🖊️

Charter Books wasn’t far from Blood Like Wine Publishing. For the second time that week, you were in the heart of the business district. You were tired of waiting. If Charter wanted to publish your work without fanfare, you would take it over waiting on a whim.

Charles Halford was expecting you and as was your habit, you were early. The building didn’t bring you the same joy as Blood Like Wine had, though now that you thought of it, any such optimism had disappeared. You would settle and hope that this was a back road to a mighty second book. If your luck was to take an upturn, it might even be a sleeper hit.

You were directed to sit along the small line of chairs outside Halford’s office. You balanced your manuscript on your knee as you waited. You fidgeted impatiently and hoped the offer was still open. The email had seemed hopeful and that a meeting was scheduled on such short notice was heartening.

You looked up as the door finally opened. Your heart dropped at the man who stepped out. Ransom’s eyes caught yours as he turned back to Halford and tossed some quip at him. His forced laughter turned your stomach. The men were chummy; too chummy. Was this foreshadowing?

“Anyway, I should get back to it,” Ransom announced. “Figured I’d swing by. Get a few pointers.”

“I’m sure you’ll be back for more,” Charles boomed. “Remember, left to right.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and shook Halford’s hand. He turned and winked at you as he left, a cheery farewell to the receptionist. Halford perked up as he noticed you and distracted you from the unease that bubbled in your stomach.

“Early as always,” He said. “Come on in. We’ll get started.”

“Thanks,” You stood and he gestured you ahead of him.

You entered his office and waited for him to sit before you did. He dug around for his copy of your manuscript and turned back to you. He didn’t open it as he plopped it on his desk.

“So, you’re still looking for a buyer, huh?” He asked.

“Well, you know there’s so many options,” You said. “I wanted to go somewhere my book fits.”

“Of course, and it’s a great concept,” He replied. “Really… but…”

“But…” You took a breath.

“Well, you know, we’ve had time to think too and we’re more akin to easy reads. Our clientele, they want something simple, straightforward. You have clever prose and intricate devices but… well, that’s not really who we’re selling to.”

“I don’t understand,” You said. “What changed? You made an offer and suddenly it’s just… gone?”

“Look, there’s lot of publishers out there who would be a better match I’m sure and in this era, self-publishing is growing.”

“A publishing house suggesting self-publishing?” You shook your head and stood. You were numb. “I can read between the lines as well as you can, Mr. Halford. Thank you for considering me. I won’t waste your time if you’ve made up your mind.”

“Hey,” He rose and reached across the desk. “There’s always the next book. Maybe one day, we’ll have a chance to work together.”

“I hope so,” You said as you swallowed the bitterness. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out this time,” He said.

“It’s… business.” You sniffed. “I get it.”

🖊️

Charter, Storey, Hackett. Every no made the prospect of a yes even less likely. Your future stared back at you with paid online articles and ridiculous blurbs. It was a living, a meagre one, but it wasn’t your dream. It was starting to seem like a nightmare.

Another rejection and you were ready to burn the damn manuscript. You marched into the lobby that fronted Lucian LLC. You just wanted to go home but if you did that, you’d just sit and sulk as you had for days before. So instead you followed the scent of roasted beans into the coffee shop along the east side of the lobby.

You ordered a skinny latte and found a table in the corner. You dropped the heavy print on the table before you set down your stemmed mug and flopped onto the chair. You leaned your elbows on the table and rubbed your forehead. A cup clinked across from yours and you sat up, startled by the figure before you.

“Long day?” Ransom asked.

You looked around confused.

“What?” You replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was walking by actually and I saw you through the window. Almost didn’t recognize you but… you look… tired.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes. “And I saw that manuscript in front of you and thought maybe we could have another chat.”

“I don’t want to talk about you reviewing my book until you decide you don’t want it,” You hissed.

“Okay, well, what if I told you we could have a yes or no by the end of our discussion, hmm?”

You squinted at him and ran your fingertips down the side of the hot mug.

“Why?”

“Why?” He repeated coyly.

“What changed your mind?”

“Look, can I help it that I feel a little bad about how it all turned out? Seeing you here, sulking, it really got to me.” He feigned pity.

“I wasn’t sulking,” You insisted. “I was taking a breather between all my meetings. There’s a lot of interest over my book.”

“Is there?” He pulled out the chair opposite you and sat. “Because I made a few calls and I’m pretty sure there isn’t.”

“You what?”

“A lot of people don’t wanna snatch a book out from under the Thrombey stamp,” He explained. “And as far as I’m concerned, we didn’t finish our negotiations.”

You chewed the inside of your lip and considered him. There was a twinkle in his eye. This man would make himself the bane of your existence until he could declare himself the victor. As it was, he might actually be the only prospect you had left.

“Fine. I guess I’m here already. If you want to talk, let’s talk,” You said.

His eyes sparked as they had back in his office.

“Alright,” He began tersely, “May I?”

He pointed to your manuscript and you slowly slid it over to him. He turned it and opened it. He bent over it dramatically as he read. You waited as he glossed over a few pages and sat up.

“Promising. I said so to the editors but you understand that it’s not all up to me.” He said. “It’s not that I don’t wanna publish you, I’m just being cautious. This company is my legacy.”

“It’s your grandfather’s legacy,” You affirmed.

He bit his tongue and blinked. He took a breath before he continued.

“Whatever,” He said. “It is my company now and I have to keep it alive. That means making smart decisions. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m just a writer.” You shrugged.

He sighed and reached for his mug. He dribbled a little down his chin and onto his blazer. He swore as he looked down and set his cup back on the table.

“Could you grab some napkins?” He asked. “Shit.”

“Napkins?” You repeated. You knew he was the type to have help but you were not looking to be his nanny.

“Please,” He said sharply as he held up his wet hand. “If you don’t mind.”

You slid out of your chair and grumbled as you crossed the cafe. You pulled out a dozen serviettes from the dispenser and returned to him. You dropped them on the manuscript and he grabbed them impatiently. He wiped up the coffee and left the napkins crumpled beside his cup.

You lifted your own, the foam entirely flat now, and took a sip. The espresso was strong and your cheek twitched. You set it down as you tried not to cough. The caffeine further addled your nerves.

“So what exactly are you offering?” You asked.

“I went over my grandfather’s notes and spoke with my team. It wasn’t all impractical. We can honour the printing terms but may have to tinker with the numbers…” He began and you nodded.

You listened intently as he went over his points and referred to your manuscript several times, flipping pages back and forth. He suggested a sex scene to liven it up but that didn’t really fit the motif of a medieval mystery set in a monastery. That disagreement didn’t last long as he plowed through his terms.

As you listened, you sipped and your head began to ache from the excess of caffeine. Three coffees a day would do that to you. Your stomach flurried as well and you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. You left the dregs of your latte untouched and touched your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Drysdale…”

“Ransom,” He corrected.

“Sorry but… uh, I don’t feel very well.” You said. “I think… I hate to do this but I think maybe we should reschedule.”

“Well, there’s not much else to say. I’m sure you could give me an answer before you race off.” He stood as you did.

You leaned heavily on the table and grabbed your manuscript. You took your bag and groaned.

“Really, I feel… sick.” You said. “I gotta go.”

“Wait, wait,” He followed as you stumbled past him. You weren’t sure what was happening. Maybe it was the leftovers you ate for dinner last night. “You okay?”

“F-fine,” You shook your head to ward off the haze at the edge of your vision. You checked your phone. “Look, I gotta catch the bus.”

“You sure you can handle that?” He was overly concerned for a man who had as good as laughed you out of your office. “I can drive you.”

“Why would you do that?” You stopped just outside the building.

“Because you’re sweating a lot and I think it’d be a lot quicker to drive than to wait around for transit,” He said. “But hey, your call.”

You stared at him and your head pulsed. You touched your forehead and nodded. “S-sure,” You accepted. “Thanks.”

“Hey, we’ll just take it out of your final offer,” He kidded.

🖊️

Ransom

She barely buckled her seat belt before she was out. She slumped in the seat and thumped against the door at the first corner. Ransom hadn’t expected it to take effect so soon but she had downed her latte quickly.

When she got up to grab the napkins, he sprinkled the foam with the powder and quickly sat back. The idea hadn’t occurred to him until he spotted her through the glass. The drugging, that was. The thought of what he would do to her had played over in his mind since their first meeting. He couldn’t just let a writer walk all over him like that. He was in charge now.

He glanced over at her as he pulled up his long drive. She was still out like a light. He had to admit, she wasn’t a great beauty but she had a charm about her. And she was perfect to test out his toys on.

He got out and rounded the car. He opened her door and undid her seatbelt. Her bag and manuscript flopped onto the floor as he lifted her. He closed the door with his foot and carried her up the short walk. She was entirely limp. Completely helpless. He smiled.

He took her to the basement. It had taken more than a year but it was finally ready. Oh and what timing. It was like she was sent to him, just asking for punishment. Her trite little mouth had earned her more than a place on the scholarly blacklist. He had to make sure she paid.

He set her down on the velvet couch and undressed her a piece at a time. He fondled her chest as he bared it and sucked on her nipples just a little. She didn’t move at all. He checked her breathing and carried on.

When she was naked, he played with her cunt. Spread her legs and poked his fingers inside as he looked her over. She was so tight his cock throbbed at the thought of her walls around him.

He lifted her from the couch and carried her to the special contraption he’d designed himself. He laid her over it on her stomach. The angled board had her ass raised and her legs dangling off the end. He secured her wrists and ankles with the straps to keep her from slipping. He wasn’t worried about resistance.

He moved her hips just slightly and reached under her to spread her pussy. He positioned her clit against the little bump beneath the leather. He took the remote in hand and turned the vibe on. The buzz filled the room and he watched her cunt quiver. He dragged his fingers along it and felt her arousal. She came within minutes.

He walked around her as he thought of what to do to her next. He wheeled over the machine in the corner. He carefully lined up the dildo with her pussy. He pushed it inside of her an inch at a time. He made her take all of it; a whole eight inches of rubber. She didn’t flinch though her breath shuddered.

He neared her side and lifted her eyelid. He only saw the white as she remained entirely unaware. He rubbed himself through his jeans and turned the vibe up and hit the button for the machine. The dildo moved in and out of her as the device whirred quietly. Her cunt made wet sounds as she was fucked helplessly.

He went behind her and watched it go in and out. He dialed it up just a little, her body jolting a little from each thrust. He tucked the remote in his pocket and strolled close to her head. He undid his pants and pulled his throbbing dick out. He rubbed it against her lips and smeared his pre-cum around her mouth.

He delved inside as he glanced back to the dildo. He held her head in one hand as his other dove into his pocket and increased the speed yet again. He began to rock his hips and soon kept time with the rubber. He sank so deep into her throat that she choked and her body spasmed. Still she didn’t wake and he could barely stop himself from cumming.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth and a trail of spit dribbled from her lips. He went to the machine and removed it from her glistening cunt. The leather-bound board was soaked with her cum already. It sent a thrill through him and his cock twitched. He growled and turned away as he resisted the urge to fuck her right away.

He went to the chest of drawers and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of lube and clear glass plug. He should start small, he told himself, but he wanted to see her stretch for him. He wanted her to feel him tomorrow.

He crossed to her and squirted the lube between her cheeks. He massaged it over her hole and mixed it with her natural juices. She was so wet he wasn’t sure he even needed the lube. He dipped his fingers inside her pussy a few times before he returned his attention to her ass.

He poked his index finger inside of her. She definitely was unused. He played with her and added another finger and then a third. She quivered as the vibe had her cumming yet again. He peeked up at her to make sure once more that she was still asleep. He didn’t need to be so paranoid. The pills would even have him out for the count.

He pulled his fingers from her ass and positioned the plug against her tight ring. He began slowly, pressing it just until she began to open and then retreating. He paused as he reached to stroke himself. He was so hard it hurt.

He kept on, each time her hole gaped just a little more around the plug. At its widest breadth, he heard a sleepy grumble escape her. He pushed it just a little more and it slipped in all the way. Her ring closed around its stem and he thought he would cum just at that sight.

He shuddered and calmed himself. He grabbed his cock and tapped the tip against the flat end of the plug. He guided it down along her folds and felt the vibration ripple through him as he brushed against the hidden vibe. He angled himself up to her entrance and held himself there.

He wiggled the plug and slammed into her as hard as he could. Her legs jolted and he thrust again with just as much force. He wanted her to feel it, even in her subconscious. He wanted her to suffer. He picked up a rhythm, violent and frantic as her cunt clung to him. She came and he grunted as he fought to restrain his own climax.

He gripped the plug and pulled it out slowly only to press it back in. He did it again and again as he fucked her. His heavy breaths swirled around him as he watched her asshole gape. He was on fire, desperate for release.

He stopped and removed the plug entirely. He held it by the stem and held it against her back as he slipped his cock out of her cunt. He eagerly entered her ass with a rumble. She was still so fucking tight. He lost it. He fucked her so hard, his special toy shook beneath her.

His voice got louder and louder as he every thrust sent a ripple through him. He snarled and pulled out suddenly. He stroked his cock as he rubbed the tip along her ass and spilled himself down her thigh. He would have to wait to cum inside her.

He let out a shaky breath as he let go of his cock. He pushed the plug into her ass again and backed away. He left the vibe on as he paced around the room and cracked his neck. A couple minutes and he’d be ready for another go. Maybe he could cum in her mouth this time. That was easy enough to clean up.

🖊️

You awoke with a start. You sat up on your couch and looked around your empty apartment. You winced as you felt an ache in your ass; your cunt too. You hissed and touched yourself gingerly. You glanced down; you wore the same clothes and there was nothing amiss but the thrum in your core.

You shook your head and rubbed your eyes. You could barely remember leaving the cafe but how had you ended up back here? You only remembered the headache and the horrible stomach ache.

You reached for your phone and found several notifications across the lock screen. Foremost was the email from Blood Like Wine Publishing. You opened it and quickly read through it.

‘...I am excited to work with you on your first novel and the company is eager to see this through to its greatest potential.

Hope you feel better and look forward to our meeting next Wednesday,

Ransom Drysdale Editor-in-Chief Blood and Wine Publishing’

You stare at the email in confusion. Had you said yes? Ransom offered you a drive home… then it was all black but you must’ve come to some agreement. You must have found your way into your apartment and passed out on the couch. So why didn’t you remember any of that?

#ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #dark fic #dark!fic #au #fic #one shot

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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The Ranch {10}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: enjoy!

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian threw open the closet in the bedroom of his cabin. Sure, he’d spent quite a bit of time on minuscule dates and hanging out at the bar through the years, but it had been a while since he’d taken a woman out on a proper date.

And here he was, about to take Nesta, a fucking gourmet chef, to dinner. With an hour before he was supposed to “pick her up”, he still had no idea where they were going. He’d run through the list of restaurants in their little town a hundred times through his head as he went through his work that day, but none of them seemed good enough.

What also didn’t seem good enough were the shirts he was staring at. Maybe he’d just stay in what he was already wearing - the towel around his waist. She seemed to prefer him in such, anyways, considering the night they had spent together the day before.

And what a damn fantastic night it had been.

No, Cassian wanted their date to be perfect.

Once again, he stared at the line of shirts hanging in his closet.

He groaned and dragged his hand down his face before he walked across the room and texted Elain.

You busy?

He waited a minute, no reply to his text, and he was both impatient and short on time.

So he called her.

“You couldn’t even wait for me to text you back and tell you that I’m not busy?” Her voice was full of laughter as she answered the phone.

“Sort of in a rush and also freaking out,” he said, beginning to pace.

She was instantly on red alert. “What? Why? Are you okay?”

He shook his head, realizing he’d worried her for no reason. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m taking your sister out on a date tonight and I have no idea what to wear.”

He was met with silence on the other line.

“Elain?”

“I’m here, I’m...trying to make sense of what you just said.” She stuttered a second. “You said you’re taking Nesta on a date tonight?”

“Yes.”

“My sister, Nesta?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, with no chill. “And I’m in a hurry.”

“Taking Nesta out makes you cranky,” Elain muttered. “Okay, I’m here, what is it you need?”

“I don’t know what to wear.”

Another stretch of silence.

Cassian sighed, impatiently. “Elain.”

“Sorry,” she said, tone laced with laughter. “I just...You’re worried about what you’re going to wear?”

“Everything I have looks the same,” he mumbled.

“Then wear one of your fifty plaid shirts,” she laughed. “And your one pair of nice jeans.”

“Really?” He asked, grabbing one of his more expensive shirts from the closet. “But I wear this every day-.”

“She’s seen you everyday and has she ever had a problem with it?” she interrupted.

“I- No,” he admitted. “What kind of food does she like? I asked her to dinner and then I realized that she’s a chef and that nothing around here would be up to her standards.”

Elain paused, but finally said, “Do you trust me?”

Cassian hesitated, unable to hide the question in his voice. “Usually?”

She chuckled. “I’m going to send you an address. Don’t look it up, just trust me, okay?”

He blinked. Well, it was a better idea than he had. “Okay, sure. Yeah, I won’t look it up.”

Elain squealed. “Yay! Alright, stand by. I’ll text it to you now.”

Cassian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Lainy, you have no idea how grateful I am.”

He could tell she was being genuine when she said, “Anything I can do to help! You both deserve to be happy, to have someone to cherish you and treat you right.” She sighed. “How’d you convince her to finally go out with you?”

Cassian debated on beating around the bush, but knew their families would find out anyways. “We, uh, sort of hooked up last night.”

Not to his surprise, he was met with more silence.

This time, Cassian waited it out. He put his phone on speaker then dropped his towel.

“And by hooked up, you mean…”

“Sex?” Cassian supplied, pulling on his boxers. “Yeah, and it was-.”

“I don’t wanna know.” The words rushed out of Elain so quickly that Cassian knew her cheeks were turning pink.

Cassian chuckled. “Fine. But, it was nice.”

“Were you drunk?” Elain asked, hesitantly.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “No. And she was still there when I woke up this morning, so.”

“Wow, I-.” She paused and repeated, “Wow. You know you’re supposed to take her out before you sleep with her, right?”

“Oh, ha ha.” He said, stepping into his jeans and buttoning them up. His voice was wistful at first. “I can’t help it, I just had to have her. And she actually made the move this time, not me.”

“I still don’t want to know,” she said, laughing. “Have fun, make good choices.”

“I’ll try,” he promised before saying goodbye and tossing the phone onto his bed. A moment later, when he was buttoning up his shirt, her text came through with an address.

He had no idea where she was sending them, and he was almost too scared to look it up, even if he hadn’t promised. After brushing out his hair with his fingers, he tied it at the back of his head and pulled on some socks, then his boots, and sighed.

“Beau!”

Beau came hurrying into the bedroom and up onto the bed, wagging his tail.

“How do I look?” Cassian asked, brows raised.

Beau barked.

“I assume that means you approve. Alright,” he said, grabbing his wallet off his nightstand and shoving it into his pocket. “I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t chew up anything...that’s not already chewed up, okay?”

He gave Beau a quick belly rub before strutting toward the front door.

He grabbed his keys and drove over to Nesta’s, hopping out and knocking on her door.

It only took a second for the door to swing open and Cassian’s mouth began to water.

The blue dress she wore was nothing fancy. On the contrary, it was its simplicity that let Nesta’s beauty shine.

Her golden-brown hair was in a simple braid, her brown sandals showing off her painted toenails. A soft pink, the same shade she wore on her full, beautiful lips.

She raised her brows as she said, “You’re staring. You’ve seen me every day for a while now. You can’t stare.”

“I can and I will,” he protested, meeting her eyes. “And it’s not the first time I’ve been caught staring at you.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag off the hook by the door. “Where are you taking me?”

She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her as he hesitated. “Uh, it’s a surprise.” To us both.

She laughed quietly but said nothing more as they descended the stairs. Cassian opened the passenger side door and held out his hand to help her up, but she ignored it and hauled herself inside. With a chuckle, Cassian closed the door behind her and made his way behind the wheel before making his way down the long driveway.

Once they were out onto the main road, Cassian said, “You look beautiful.”

She didn’t look over at him as a small smile played on those pink lips. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad, either.”

Cassian grinned and turned on the radio, soft music filling the truck. He had already put the address into his GPS, but kept the volume down. He glanced at his phone every few seconds to make sure he was going the right way. The last thing he wanted was for Nesta to ask why he needed directions to know where they were going. What would his reply be? Oh, I called your sister because I was freaking the fuck out, thanks for asking, no big deal.

It was a conversation he wanted to avoid.

“What all did you do today?” he asked. “I didn’t see you around.”

“I was in the main house, prepping for painting,” she said, nodding. “That place needs to be updated before any guests start coming in. So, I taped, covered the carpets in plastic, and moved all furniture to the middle of the floors. Which, I should probably get a few new things there, too. I swear we grew up on shit made in the 1950s.”

Cassian snorted, then looked her direction. “You should’ve asked for help. I could’ve helped with the heavy lifting.”

She rolled her eyes. “I am perfectly capable of doing things on my own, thank you.”

Cassian shook his head as his eyes went back on the road ahead of him. “Trust me, I know.”

Her amused grin was radiant. “What about you? Any fun ranch stuff today?”

“Ranch stuff?” He chuckled. At her own laughter, he continued, “Nothing too crazy. Mostly made sure there was enough hay left for the horses over the weekend. And checked on Barb. She’ll be having her calf any day.”

“What? Really?” She turned to him. “It’s way too late in the year for calves.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I’m keeping such a close eye on her.”

His phone lit up, alerting him that they were approaching their destination. He looked around and chuckled, shaking his head. Leave it to Elain.

He pulled into the little parking lot of an old diner. The sign that read The Starlight Diner was lit up in neon lights. He parked in front of the little building before looking at Nesta to see her reaction.

She was staring at the diner before she turned to him. “You talked to my sister, didn’t you?”

Cassian hesitated, and she laughed. “We used to go here all the time,” she said, shaking her head. “I used to love this place. I can’t tell you how many milkshakes I’ve downed within these walls. And the chili cheese fries? I mean, there’s nothing like them.”

Cassian had been to the diner before, but not since high school. It used to be a popular hangout, one they went to after they won a big game or smoked too much pot under the bleachers.

“So you’re telling me,” Cassian began, turning off the engine. “That a woman who became a famous chef in Paris likes to go to ancient diners and drink milkshakes and eat chili-cheese fries?”

“Yes,” she said, simply. Then she smiled, softly. “Shall we?”

Cassian, completely speechless and a little bit turned on, opened his door and met her on her side of the truck as she got out. They went inside and sat at a table by the window. Old music was playing and waitresses were going about their business on roller skates.

“So, I assume you already know what you want,” Cassian began, flipping open his menu. “And I assume it’s more than a milkshake and chili-cheese fries.”

Nesta was glancing around the restaurant, looking for someone or something, but she didn’t miss a beat when she answered. “Bacon cheeseburger, with extra pickles, chili-cheese fries, vanilla milkshake, with no cherry, and a water.”

He raised an eyebrow, and let his menu fall shut. “I know what I’m ordering.” She laughed and he felt like his heart was going to burst. The sound of her laughter was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. “So why no cherry? Are allergic, or what?”

She scrunched her nose as she moved the silverware around in front of her. “I used to drink the Shirley Temples made with the cheap grenadine. You know the one that’s pretty much just cherry snow-cone syrup?”

Their server came to the table at that moment and took their drink order. They both know what they wanted, but neither was in a rush. She promised to return with their waters and to get their food order in just a moment and they fell right back into conversation.

“Long story short, one night we went to dinner and I had four or five of them.” She laughed and shook her head. “Neither mom or dad noticed how many I’d had, which was awesome to me. I was only allowed to have two before I had to switch to water. When we got home, I got so, so sick. They freaked out because it was dark red and they thought I was bleeding internally.” She began laughing even harder. “Neither of them told me that was what they were worried about, and I wasn’t about to tell on myself. They took me to the hospital and I finally told one of the nurses. Nineteen years and a sixteen hundred dollar hospital bill later, and I hate cherry and cherry flavoring now.”

Cassian just stared at her, barely registering when the waitress came back and gave them their waters. And then he began howling.

The waitress looked at him like he was crazy and mumbled that she’d be back in just a minute for their orders.

“So you were a rebellious child,” Cassian said, laughter dying down but his smile remaining.

“Considering that’s the most rebellious thing I’d ever done, I’d say not,” Nesta said, chuckling. “No, Feyre was the rebellious one, which I’m sure you already know. Elain was the perfect one. And I….I don’t know. I was just there.”

“That’s impossible,” Cassian said. “Give yourself a little more credit.”

She shrugged, and a shadowy look crossed her face that had Cassian clearing his throat. “Well, you didn’t miss out on rebellion. Coming from someone who landed himself in the local jail fifteen times his senior year in high school, alone.”

That look in Nesta’s eyes faded as she shook her head, humored. “Fifteen times? In under a year?”

“Yeah, I swear at some point the cops just started following me when they were bored until I did something they could call me out on,” he laughed. It was a little town. The crime rate was low. “Shoplifting a few times. Mostly underage drinking. One time they caught me peeing into the dumpster behind the corner market. Which, I was drunk then, too….Actually, that night was rough.”

Nesta laughed as she rolled her eyes. “Good thing to know such a classy man has taken me to dinner.”

Cassian’s grin widened. “You live, you learn.”

Nesta nodded her agreement. “What about your parents? Weren’t they furious?”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he said, “Don’t know my dad. My mom died while I was in middle school, lived with Rhys and his mom after that. And, yes, she gave me hell every damn time. But, she always came to pick me up and break me out.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, but he was already waving her off.

“Don’t be,” he shrugged. “From what my mom told me of my dad, he wasn’t the greatest guy. Found out she was pregnant from one of his friends and skipped town. He was a bull rider, and he jumped on the rodeo tour and she never saw him again. And my mom…” he blew out a deep breath. “We should probably save my mom for a less depressing conversation.”

Nesta nodded, completely understanding.

“But Rhys’ mom was great,” he went on, taking a sip from his water. “I love that woman.”

The waitress came back and Nesta ordered.

Cassian said he’d have the same, but with a chocolate shake, then she was off.

“So,” Cassian went on, leaning his elbows on the table. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

Nesta took a moment to think. “After last night, I think you know everything there is to know.”

Cassian smirked. “About some things, maybe. But tell me something I don’t.”

Nesta chewed on her lip, mind going completely blank. Everything either seemed too personal or not personal enough.

“I can’t whistle,” She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know, this is one of the things I hate about dating. This whole interview process.”

“How about this,” he smiled. “Tell me about your favorite thing in the world.”

He was expecting her to start telling him about cooking, about how she’d ended up in Paris, Rome, London, all the places he’d seen when he did a quick google of her name. But she surprised him.

“Riding horseback,” she said, eyes bright.

Cassian raised a brow. “Riding? That’s your favorite thing in the world?”

“Does that surprise you?” She asked, leaning back in the booth.

“Yeah, a little,” he confessed.

She stirred her water with her straw, watching the ice cubes spin around in her glass. “It was my one escape growing up. The one thing I could do that didn’t result in a sneer from my mother and a lecture about my future from my father.” She sighed. “I used to ride Phoenix for hours to just...get out of the house. Have you ever ridden back on the hills to the west of the property?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean the property that isn’t ours, that’s marked No Trespassing?”

Their waitress brought their milkshakes to the table. There was a bright red cherry on top of Nesta’s, but before she could say anything, Cassian snatched it up and popped it into his mouth. She rolled her eyes, thanked the waitress, and took a huge sip. Her eyes slipped closed instantly and she moaned quietly. “Oh my god, I can’t get a milkshake like this anywhere else.”

She opened her eyes to find him watching her, and when her tongue peeked out to get the little bit of melted ice cream left on her bottom lip, his eyes tracked the motion. They were dark, the shining hazel almost completely swallowed by his pupils.

Without a word, Cassian pulled something from between his teeth and dropped it on the table between them.

The stem from her stolen cherry was tied in a knot.

Nesta said, “That’s both hot and cheesy as hell.”

Cassian’s low laugh skittered across her skin. “You already know what my tongue can do, but I thought I’d give you a little reminder, just in case you somehow forgot already.”

Nesta swallowed. No, she definitely hadn’t forgotten what his perfect mouth could do, but she had forgotten how to speak, especially when he was looking at her the way he was.

He plucked the cherry from his own milkshake, eating the cherry - sans stem, this time - and motioned for Nesta to continue. “So, what about the land that we do not own, Miss I was never rebellious?”

His imitation of her was spot on.

Nesta pursed her lips and said, “Yeah, that land is ours.”

He dropped his spoon, splattering the table in chocolate ice cream droplets. “What?”

She took another drink of her milkshake, not moaning this time, thank the Cauldron, and nodded. “It’s only another few acres. I knew the previous owners. Armand and Colette Lavigne.” The way she said their names, with such familiarity and adoration, Cassian knew she must have spent a lot of time with them. “They were from the Bordeaux region of France. They moved here in their fifties to open a vineyard.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “They didn’t do any research and had no idea the soil here wasn’t good for wine. But they fell in love with the area. And they’re the ones who taught me to love cooking.” She smiled fondly, her eyes misting slightly. “I bought it when Colette passed a few years ago and Armand returned to Floirac. He didn’t want it to go to someone who would just sell it for profit and turn it into another apartment complex or a shopping mall. It's been my land for about four years, but I finally signed the deed to have it put in my name, rather than Armand’s, when I signed the ranch’s deeds.”

Cassian blinked, processing the information, slowly. Then he said, loudly enough to earn a scowl from the elderly couple two booths down, “What the fuck? I’ve been purposely avoiding that land, and now you’re telling me I should’ve been working it?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “No. Not yet, anyway. I haven’t decided what I want to do with it yet.”

Cassian was slowly shaking his head. “I have a feeling you’re never going to stop surprising me.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” She asked.

He smiled at her. “No, it isn’t.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Nesta finally asked, “Have you even tried your milkshake yet, or are you just going to keep stirring it?”

He pointed his sticky spoon at her and took a big sip through his straw. He pulled back, staring at the thick liquid. “That’s pretty damn good.”

“Pretty damn good?” She repeated, shaking her head. “It’s fucking delicious.”

“You’re fucking delicious,” he muttered, taking another drink from his straw.

Nesta’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, which only made Cassian's small smile turn into a wicked grin.

Before she could come up with a retort, a display of beautiful, greasy food was laid out before them. Burgers and chili-cheese fries.

As the waitress turned to leave, Nesta said, “Excuse me, but is Alis still here?”

“Oh, no, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she said, and Nesta nodded. “She’ll be back in for the morning shift tomorrow, though.”

“Okay, perfect. Thank you.”

The woman smiled warmly and left them to enjoy their burgers.

“Alis?” Cassian asked, eyeing the massive plate of food in front of him and its twin in front of Nesta, then her tiny form. There was no way she’d be able to eat everything in front of her.

Nesta already had a forkful of hot, cheesy fries and was diving in. She closed her eyes and made a contented noise. She took a drink of her water, setting it down before answering. “She owns the Starlight. I came here so much that she and I became pretty close. When I…” Ran away. “Left town, I stopped in for a cup of coffee, trying to talk myself out of leaving. Alis is the one who pushed me to follow my dreams. She even paid for my bus ticket out of town.”

“Really?” Cassian asked, popping a fry into his mouth. “She sounds nice.”

“She is,” Nesta agreed. “One of the best this town has to offer. Now, look away because I’m about to bite into this burger and it’s not going to be attractive whatsoever.”

Cassian didn’t look away and Nesta, eyes on his, took a massive bite out of her bacon cheese burger.

He blinked, and she covered her mouth as her eyes lit up at his expression.

“I can honestly say I’ve never been so attracted to you,” he said, taking his burger into his hands. Before he took a bite, he asked, “So, Alis is the one that pushed you out of town, huh?”

Nesta nodded, taking another bite and swallowing before saying, “If it wasn’t for her that day, I probably would have stayed here, ended back up with Tomas, and lived to regret every fucking day that followed. So, I am very grateful to Alis.”

Cassian hadn’t pressed Nesta anymore on the subject of Tomas, and he knew now wasn’t the time, no matter how many questions he had.

“Well, then I’m grateful to her too,” Cassian said, taking a bite so massive nearly half of his burger disappeared. He chewed before saying, “Although I’m pretty grateful you came back, too.”

Nesta took another bite of her own burger. “You’re just saying that because I’ll have sex with you,” she laughed and dove back into her fries.

Cassian’s eyes lit up in amusement. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a perk. But I think you’re going to be good for the b-n-b, for the ranch as a whole.” Nesta’s eyes softened and she smiled. Until he added, “And ‘I’ll have sex’ implies that we’ll be doing that again, right? That wasn’t a one and done?”

Nesta rolled her eyes, mouth full of food. A second later, she said, “I’ll have to think about it.”

Cassian had the audacity to look offended. “Ouch. Was I so bad?”

Nesta just grinned as she took another bite of her fries.

Cassian’s laughter filled the air as they finished their food. He paid, and then they made their way back into the truck.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said, as they pulled out of the parking lot. To his surprise, she had finished every last bite of her food and downed her milkshake. Even Cassian had left a few fries, claiming he couldn’t eat another bite.

“Anytime,” he said, meaning it.

“Um, home is the other direction,” she said, when he turned left onto the main road instead of right.

“I know,” Cassian replied, shortly, and when it was obvious he wasn’t going to say anything more, Nesta shot him a look.

“Where are we going?” she asked, slowly.

Cassian just grinned, one hand on the wheel, the other sneaking over the middle console to hers.

The ride was comfortably quiet, the rumble of Cassian’s truck the only sound. Nesta didn’t mind though, not as he drove through the square, where people bustled about. Velaris was a city best enjoyed at night, and the people milling around every restaurant and park and store front proved it. She also didn’t mind the feel of his hand in hers, so the longer drive was fine by her.

Until they pulled into a parking lot.

“Why are we here?”

Cassian only grinned and hopped out of the truck, rounding the hood and helping Nesta down. “Don’t feel like a walk down memory lane?” They began to walk and, as casually as she could, she slipped her hand back into his. His fingers intertwined with hers and he glanced down at her. She was staring forward, refusing to look up at him, but he knew color was staining her cheeks. Could tell by the way the tips of her ears were a darker shade of pink than normal. “I thought, rather than talk about who we are, cause that always sucks and no one likes doing it-.” He was rambling and Nesta giggled. He laughed at himself and cleared his throat. “Right. What I was trying to say, is that talking about who you are sucks. But talking about who you used to be? I don’t know, for me, it’s always been easier.” Nesta looked up at him, but he shrugged and carried on. “Even if I wasn’t always proud of who I was, I can at least learn something from who I’ve been.”

“Fair enough,” she said, quietly, as he led the way.

They were at their old high school, but Cassian didn’t walk toward the building, which was undoubtedly locked. Instead, he took her to the football field, where Nesta could count on one hand how many times she had been there through the four years she had spent at Velaris High.

“You played football?” She asked, as they walked through the gates.

“I did,” Cassian confirmed, as they walked onto the green field. Velaris Knights was painted into the end zones. “Yeah, I tackled a lot of guys on these fields. And, over there,” he pointed to the bleachers, “is where I used to get high and drunk, referring back to the jail conversation we had earlier tonight.”

Nesta laughed as she looked around. She had never been on the field before. Everything looked different from standing between the bleachers.

“You came to games, right?” He asked, gazing around the field. The lights were on, thanks to the evening practice that had only ended an hour or two before. The lights ran on a timer, just like they had when he played on this field. They had until just before ten-thirty before the lights would go out.

Nesta shook her head. “I was never a big fan of school events. I always preferred to stay home and read or more often than not, I was with Tomas. Going to some roping.”

There he was again, taunting Cassian from the past. But again, he wouldn’t bring up Tomas tonight. “Wasn’t Elain a cheerleader? Didn’t you come to at least support her?”

She shrugged. “Come cheer on the cheerleader? No, and she knew I hated it. She would actually convince Feyre to go to the games so I could have an hour or two of silence.”

Cassian snorted. “Well, I lived on this field. And I kicked ass. While you were being a nerd, apparently.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I was not a nerd, asshole.”

Cassian held his hands up in surrender. “I never said it was a bad thing.”

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh as she shook her head. “Looking back, I would’ve done some things differently. Maybe not the staying home with a book, but with the whole Tomas business.”

Cassian stayed silent. He wanted so badly to ask, but knew he shouldn’t. They were having such a good time. He didn’t want to ruin it.

So, instead, Cassian said, “I wish I would’ve known you then.”

She chuckled but sat down when they reached the center of the field. “No, I don’t think you do.”

He followed suit, sitting down in the turf leaning back on his hands. “Why not?”

“It was true, what you said before. I constantly had a stick up my ass.” She laughed and continued. “And I was a bitch.”

Cassian laughed, but he didn’t correct her. “You were cute, though. I’m convinced I would have loosened you up.”

Nesta shook her head, unable to stop her smile from spreading. “I’ll let you think that.”

Cassian looked over at her, at the way her golden-brown hair shone in the lights. She was a beauty, and yes, she had been cute in high school, but now she was stunning, in her little blue dress and her simple braid.

“You’re staring again,” she mumbled.

“Let me stare,” he pleaded, eyes soft.

She blushed and he leaned over, tilting her chin up and softly brushing his lips against hers. When he pulled away, he whispered, “Please tell me I can do that whenever I want now.”

Nesta thoughtfully tapped her chin and said, “Whenever? I don’t know about that.”

“Damn you, woman,” he laughed and kissed her again, laying down on top of her.

She chuckled against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. “We’re not kids anymore, Cassian, we can’t fuck on the football field. Just because you like being tossed in jail doesn’t mean that I do.”

He grinned, resting his elbows in the grass on both sides of her face. “I’ll be nice, I promise.”

She kissed him then, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth. “Good.”

“Until you did that…” he muttered, kissing her again, pressing his body down against hers as he did so.

She let his hands roam her body, let him grab and squeeze and pull. He tugged on her hair lightly, tilting her chin up and exposing her neck. He nuzzled his face into it, and lightly ran his tongue along the long column of her throat. He pressed soft kisses along her jaw until he returned once more to her lips.

Pulling back to look at her, her lips swollen from his bruising kisses and her hair a messy halo around her head on the grass, Cassian brushed a thumb along her cheekbone. He breathed, “You are so damn beautiful.” She blushed and tried to turn from his gaze. “No,” he whispered, gripping her chin so she couldn’t look away. “Why do you do that? Why won’t you let me tell you how beautiful you are?” He asked, quietly.

“Taking compliments isn’t one of my strengths,” she said, running her hands down his arms, feeling his muscles beneath the fabric.

“Well make it one,” he mumbled, “because I’m not going to stop. I’m going to tell you how beautiful you are, always, because it’s the truth.”

She shook her head, slowly, but didn’t say anything else. She simply grabbed him by the face and brought his lips to hers.

After a few minutes of languid kisses, and some strong, strong willpower, Cassian rolled over and laid on his back, staring up at the sky. He tucked a hand behind his head and the other found Nesta’s next to him. His thumb rubbed small circles on the back of her hand and he gazed up at the stars.

It was quiet for a few minutes, neither one of them wanting to disturb the stillness. But eventually, Nesta asked, “You about ready to head home?”

He turned his head and looked at her, those stormy eyes seeing every part of him. “Just a minute. It’s almost time.”

Her brow furrowed. “For what?”

He smiled, looking back to the sky. “You’ll see.”

They laid there in silence, Nesta loving the feeling of his hand in hers.

The lights shut off, plunging the field into darkness. Nesta started, looking around, wondering if they needed to go, to get back to the truck, before someone-.

“Look,” he breathed, still staring upwards.

Nesta gazed toward the sky. Her breath caught in her throat.

The lights above them, surrounding the field, had gone off, and the starlight above them burned brightly, lighting up the night sky.

There were no trees, no nothing to block the view of the series of shooting stars that shot across the speckled darkness.

Only in Velaris.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. She had always known her hometown was famous for its starlight, had always snuck a glance or two up at the night sky throughout her childhood, but had never taken a moment to simply watch, to wait, to explore with her eyes the beauty of creation.

“It is,” Cassian agreed, softly. He wasn’t only talking about the night sky. “I used to lay out here all the time, in high school. Captivated by it.”

“Were you high?” Nesta asked, quietly, jabbing him in the ribs.

Cassian laughed, breathlessly. “Sometimes.”

She glanced over at him, but he didn’t notice. He was entranced by the wonder before him, by the sheer enormity of the sight above him.

“You love this town,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.

He nodded and looked over at her. “I do. It’s not much, but it’s...home. I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else.” He paused. “Well, except on the road, but that didn’t exactly pan out.”

“Why not?” She asked, before she could stop herself.

Cassian hesitated. “It’s a long story.”

“Is it?” She asked. “Or is this one of those times you say it’s a long story because you don’t want to tell the story.”

Cassian laughed, glancing sideways at her. “Maybe a little bit of both.”

“Well,” she said, smiling softly. “I have time.”

He tried not to let it sound harsh when he said, “Another time.” He turned and laid on his side, brushing the loose hair framing her face behind her ear.

He could see the stubbornness, could see that Nesta wanted to push. But she nodded and leaned forward to press her lips against his.

After a soft smile, he climbed to his feet and held out a hand. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get home.”

She took his hand, happily, and let him walk her back to the truck. The ride back to the ranch was quiet, but not uncomfortable. He caught her looking at him from time to time, and every time he caught her, that look of annoyance from being caught captured her face.

When Cassian pulled up to her little house, he turned off the engine and got out, walking her up to the porch. They stood, hand in hand. He looked down at her and kissed her, softly. “Is this the part where you invite me inside?”

She made a show of acting like she was thinking, and took a step back. “I don’t know, this was only our first date…” She opened the door and took another step back until she was inside. “I’m not that type of girl.”

There was a playful glint in Cassian’s eye and he stepped forward, bracing an arm on the door frame. “I don’t know what type of girl you’re talking about.”

She chuckled and said, “Goodnight, Cassian.”

The smirk on his face faltered and she shut the door in his face.

He took a step back and blinked. “Wha- Are you kidding me?”

The door swung open just a few seconds later and Nesta stood inside, still laughing. She grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him over the threshold, her lips immediately meeting his.

#theranchnessian #sharacollab #nessian #theranch #au #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction

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ikeromantic · 4 years

Photo

Designing Men

An ikevamp Leonardo story, approx. 1500 words of pure fluffy goodness.

First: That First Night

Previous: Three Words

Leonardo was up early. He hadn’t been able to sleep well after his ‘nap’ in the library. All he could think of was the touch of cara’s lips on his own and the sound of her muffled sobs as she cried herself to sleep. Leo wanted to make it up to her - it being the distance he put between them. He needed to make her happy, even if that joy was only fleeting.

The kitchen was empty when he got there. He set about making a pot of coffee. He sat down on a stool beside the counter and stared at the kettle, waiting for it to boil.

“A watched pot never boils, old friend.” Comte spoke from the doorway, one hand on the frame.

“That so? I’m pretty sure it heats at the same rate.” Leo grinned. “Anyway, what are you doing up at this hour?”

Le Comte shrugged. “I have business to attend to in town. The appointment is quite early.”

Leonardo’s eyebrows rose.

“Nothing you’d be interested in. Just visiting some clothiers.”

“Because you need another closet full of clothes?” Leo chuckled. The kettle began to hiss, and he took a moment to pull it off the heat and pour it over the coffee grounds. The rich scent filled the room, a heady good morning for a man that loved to sleep.

Comte waited for him to pour the coffee before answering. “It isn’t for me. But if you’ll remember, there’s a lovely young lady under our roof with a fancy party to attend. I plan to get her the most expensive gown in Paris, with jewelry to match. A little token of my affection.”

Leonardo took a moment to process this. “My cara mia? You’re buying her dress?” He blinked. “But I’m her date.”

“Yes, and it was very kind of you to agree to escort her. I’m sure seeing the two of you out together will quiet your -”

“Comte. I should be buying her dress.” Leonardo’s golden eyes met his old friend’s amber ones. The silence between them was thick.

Le Comte was the first to turn away, looking to the side as he took a cautious sip of coffee. “Normally, yes, of course. But you’ve no interest in this beyond the practical benefit - right? It’s not as if you care what the girl wears.”

Which was generally true. Leonardo cared little about fashion or high society. But for his cara . . . that was different. He wanted her to have a gown that was as special as she was. “I care if I’m the escort.” He gave his old friend a half-smile. “But I think you knew that. More of your meddling?”

“If you want to call it that.” Comte set his coffee down. “I leave in fifteen minutes. Should I assume you’ll be accompanying me?”

“Make it ten.” Leonardo rushed upstairs to change his shirt and find his good shoes. There was one thing he knew about shopping with le Comte. It would be an all day affair.

The two men arrived in town. The coach let them off near the Champs Elysees, where all the modern, fashionable shops did business. Most were still closed at this hour, but one had their light on. The sign read House of Worth in bold, gold letters. An old man stood by the door, waiting. When he spotted them, he waved.

“Monsieur le Comte, welcome. Welcome. And I see you’ve brought an assistant?” The man had a distinct British accent and something about him looked familiar to Leonardo, though he couldn’t place it.

“Yes, thank you Charles. This is my dear friend, Leonard. Leo, this is our clothier - Monsieur Charles Worth.” Comte introduced them as they were led inside.

The dressmaker shook Leo’s hand. “Please, call me Charles. Any friend of le Comte is a friend of mine.” He was practically wagging his tail with excitement.

Leonardo had the distinct feeling Comte must have made many purchases from this shop to be on such terms with the man. He couldn’t help but wonder how many times his old friend needed to buy a lady a fancy dress. Probably best not to ask.

Charles led them to a comfortably appointed back room. He’d already hung several racks with swaths of fabric. There was a deep blue dangerously close to blue de France, a pale golden yellow, wavering dip-dyed red, and a green that was the same shade as a flower bud in spring.

“You know, normally the lady in question is present to match the tone of the dye to her skin, hair, and eyes. Is it possible to -”

Comte shook his head, interrupting. “No, Charles. This is meant to be a surprise. I’m afraid you’ll have to trust us on the color.”

“Yes, of course, but I don’t see how I’m to determine the cut and measurements and -”

This time it was Leonardo that spoke over the clothier. “I’m an artist and a designer myself. And I know all her measurements. Let’s get on with it.”

“Oh? Indeed, sirs.” Charles’ eyebrows went up as he said it but his tone was still obsequious. Had it not been for his vampiric hearing, Leo would have missed the muttered “Know-it-all-amatuer artists” the clothier added under his breath.

Predictably, Comte went for the red material first. He was always drawn to scarlet and ruby tones. Leonardo ignored his friend’s chatter with the dressmaker, focusing instead on how the colors would look against his cara’s skin. Warm tones would look better, he decided. Something less the color of gore and more the color of caramel or chocolate. Sweet as she was.

“‘Scuse,” he interrupted. “The lady would look better in -” He let his eyes travel around the room, settling on a deep cocoa colored silk. “That.”

“Monsieur, with all due respect, that color is an accent at best. This year’s fashion tends toward light and bright and -” Charles’ hands danced through the air, outlining the dress silhouettes he was imagining.

Leo grinned. “Sure. But this lady needs that fabric.”

Charles looked to le Comte.

“I am afraid I must yield to my friend. Leonard will be her escort and knows her tastes better than I.”

Leonardo and Charles went through an entire shipment of various chocolate and cinnamon tones, each just slightly different than the one before. With dye chosen, there was fabric finish and weight, weave and thread count. Comte sat himself down with a small, satisfied smile.

Two hours later, the three men were hunched over a desk, exchanging charcoal sketches on thin sheets of paper. Leonardo proffered three designs for his cara while Charles had one he had labored over for some time.

“I swear to you, monsieur, this one is in fashion this season. Your lady friend will be the toast of the event with this hemline and cold shoulder. Like a goddess.” Charles pushed the sketch to le Comte hopefully.

Leo snagged it, studying the lines of the gown. “It’s actually not bad,” he admitted. “But perhaps some adjustment - she’s delicate. This much fabric will drown her.”

The clothier sniffed. “I don’t know why you asked me to offer anything. I am the premier couturiere in Paris and you hate all my designs.”

“I don’t hate ‘em,” Leo awkwardly patted the offended man’s shoulder. “I just know her better than you.” This seemed to mollify Charles a bit and he bent forward to see what changes were being suggested.

“I rather like this one,” Comte pushed one of Leo’s designs in front of the two men. “You could adopt the cold shoulder Charles loves and the lower hem - yes? And the other gown - “ he pointed to the sketch Leo was re-working, “We could order that in a deep carmine. For some other occasion, of course.”

Charles was nodding at this. “Yes, I like that idea. Two dresses for the lucky lady. A girl can never have too much finery.”

Comte gave a wry laugh. “You are not wrong, friend.”

It took a bit longer to wrangle the embroidery and other finishings for both gowns. Leonardo’s selections were more subdued than le Comte, but then, they’d always had different tastes. Leo was still looking over the last bits when le Comte finished and stepped out for some air.

“You know, monsieur,” Charles said, his voice pitched for Leo’s ear only. “You have an eye for design. A bit rough and in need of my guidance but still. If you are ever looking for work, my team would be happy to bring you on.”

Leonardo couldn’t hold in a laugh, which earned him an offended look from the clothier. “Ah Charles, I don’t mean to make light of your offer. I’m just no clothing designer. This is my one time effort for a girl I - a girl that’s special to me.”

Charles nodded after a moment. “I see, monsieur. Nevertheless, you have an eye. My offer stands.”

“I appreciate the compliment.” Leonardo shook the clothier’s hand. “I’ll be back in a few days to check on progress.”

Comte met Leo out front. He wore the most insufferable smug smile. “So. That was fun. Want to come with me to pick out the jewelry?”

“I’d better or you’ll have her dressed in nothing but rubies and diamonds,” Leonardo replied.

“There are worse outcomes,” Comte said speculatively. “I for one, would not mind seeing her in nothing but jewelry . . .”

Leo shot him a hot glare.

Comte just laughed.

Next: Not Alone

**sidenote** Charles Frederick Worth was a real person, and considered the father of modern day haute couture. I just imagine Comte would be one of his special clients, entitled to a private session with the famous designer.**

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp leo #ikevamp comte #ikevamp le comte de saint germain #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic

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zigtheeortega · 4 years

Text

out of time

✿ pairing: sienna x danny

✿ word count: 3354

✿ warnings: death, loss

✿ author’s note: well, i thought i’d just flesh out what we didn’t get to see, since i highly doubt they’ll expand on it since it’s off screen. it’s not my best work, but it was written out of spite so hopefully that makes up for the lack of quality LMAO. anyways, i tagged everybody who liked this post and added it to the end since there were quite a few! [sidenote: i wrote this post after i’d started this fic so if you see similarities, that’s why] i really hope you like it and that i did both sienna and danny justice!

•─────────✦✿✦────────•

She sprinted down the hallway, pager still beeping erratically on her hip, the weight of the numbers enough to make her feel like she was slugging through wet concrete.

No, no, not him, please, not him, she chanted to herself, vision blurring with tears before she had the chance to let the negative possibilities set in.

He’s gonna be okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.

Thankfully she was only one floor away, taking the steps two at a time, shoes squeaking against the waxy floor. Sweat formed on her brow as she shoved through the stair’s exit door, pushing past every intern in her way.

Normally she’d stop to apologize, but not today. She didn’t know how much time she had. It could be minutes, and she wasn’t going to waste even a second apologizing when someone’s life was on the line.

She saw the small crowd forming outside of the room and barrelled towards them without a second thought, tearing her way to the front.

When she saw Spencer’s terrorized gaze, her chest tightened involuntarily. Her body covered the entrance to the room, so she could barely see into the room, but she did catch a glimpse of something that made her blood run cold.

A purple pant leg strewn across the floor, ankle relaxed, unmoving, peeking out behind Spencer’s side.

“Sienna, stop. You can’t go any further,” Ethan murmured, gently holding her in place with his arm.

“But I have to – Danny – he’s –” she struggled against his grip, lip wobbling.

“Please,” he said, more of a statement than a question, like he was holding back, too, the strain in his voice enough to stop her in her tracks.

She watched, helpless, as Spencer and Rafael scrambled to seal the room, Bobby convulsing on the ground, Travis passed out, and Danny getting weaker and weaker by the second.

It was like turning on the news and seeing tragedy after tragedy – she always felt absolutely helpless. Her empathy always felt like a curse in those moments. She couldn’t stop herself from feeling everything, whether she wanted to or not.

She wrapped her arms around herself, digging her fingernails into her side, rocking from foot to foot. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Danny’s frail form on the ground.

“Hey, I came here as fast as I could,” a voice huffed at her side. She turned, met with Jackie’s concerned gaze, hands on her hips as she panted, tiny sweat stains dotting her teal scrubs.

“It’s… All of them, Jackie, –” she couldn’t find the words to quite describe the soul crushing weight of the situation.

Bobby, Rafael, Spencer, and Danny… people that had been her emotional rocks through the lowest points of her life.

Bobby was her unsung hero. He’d keep guard while she cried in the supply closet so she wasn’t disturbed, in return for a dozen of her chocolate chip cookies. After the first few times, she brought him baked goods weekly regardless of whether she had a breakdown or not.

Rafael was her empath twin, as weird as it sounded. She’d branded them that as a joke, between giggles, on her late night break at the cafeteria. Despite it being stated jokingly, it was true – they found themselves confiding in each other each time they faced a difficult situation, bonding over the fact that their jobs took a lot more out of them than the normal person.

Spencer was her late night confidante, the person who she’d crawl into bed with at 3 a.m. after having another detailed nightmare where she was cursed with endless terminal patients. There weren’t that many people she’d platonically cuddle and sob until she was a snotting mess next to.

And Danny… he was the future. He was a vision of what she’d always wanted.

It took her too long to break away from Wayne’s hold. She knew he was toxic, but she didn’t want to admit it – how was she supposed to admit that she’d been wrong for that long?

With Danny, she was comfortable. He got her in a way no one else did. He had the potential to be every single role that her friends played simultaneously.

God, and she’d told him she needed time. She hadn’t properly healed from Wayne so she needed some time before she moved on and –

Now it’s too late, she thought to herself as she watched them wheel out Travis and Danny in glass cases.

And Bobby in a body bag.

“Holy shit,” Jackie breathed, eyes widening. “Fuck – Oh my god, Sienna –”

The tears were already flowing as she slammed her face into Jackie’s chest, body wracked with inconsolable sobs.

She’d never hugged Jackie like this before, as she hated physical affection unless it was… PG-13.

Jackie stiffened, but wrapped her arms around Sienna’s shoulders, patting her back, slowly melting into the embrace.

“We’ll visit him as soon as we can,” she said in her ear, holding Sienna up as she nearly crumbled.

––––

Danny’s body was still, the only movement his heaving chest as he took shallow, labored breaths, his normally warm skin tone muted, drained of color.

“Hey, it’s me,” she called as she closed the door behind her, voice shaky, tote bag at her side. “I hope you can hear me.”

No response.

“Uh… I brought some of our favs. Secret of Ninradell and some music to play so hopefully it makes your dreams a little sweeter – ” she forced a laugh, trying to keep her brave face. “I brought some cookies that I baked last night – uh, I’m sorry they’re not fresh – I –”

Her voice cracked, and she rolled her lips together to keep her chin from trembling. She dragged a nearby chair closer to the glass box, sliding into it, never taking her eyes from his face.

God, why did it have to be you? She thought to herself, covering her mouth with her hands as she cried, her soft sobs muted by the loud machines monitoring his vitals.

She popped open the cover of the hardback, highlighter in hand. “I’m gonna read this to you, if that’s okay? I’m highlighting passages that remind me of you,” she smiled sadly, watching his eyes roll underneath their lids. He was dreaming.

“I know you hate when I mark up books. That’s the librarian speaking, huh?” She giggled, remembering the time he told her about his job in the campus library, and his deep hatred for the Dewey decimal system.

She began reading, trying her best at different accents, failing miserably, but it distracted her from reality if just momentarily.

Her year had been full of blow after crushing blow, both professionally and personally. Losing Wayne, breaking the news to terminal patients, dealing with the toll it took on her mental health, as well as dealing with an intern that was using her – she wasn’t stupid. She just would rather suck it up than have someone upset with her that was supposed to look up to her. Stupid, but she couldn’t handle the thought of disappointing another person.

Hours later, voice hoarse, pages and pages marked up, her hands stained with neon yellow ink, she was drifting off to sleep where she sat – but a groan startled her awake.

“Uhhhhhh,” he moaned, visibly in pain, writhing uncomfortably.

“Danny? Hey, I’m here,” she rushed forward to the box, pressing her hand up against the side, hoping he could feel the warmth of her hand through the glass.

“Sienna…?” He asked, eyes fluttering open and closed. He couldn’t focus on her face.

“I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

“Good,” he croaked, weakly flopping his hand to touch the glass.

He didn’t know it, but those two words were enough to strengthen her withering resolve. She fell asleep cradling the glass, arm slung over the top.

–––

She was ripped from her sleep by intense beeping from the machines surrounding Danny, and she glanced down, peering through the glass at Danny’s quivering form, switching between violent shakes and gentle shivers.

She slammed the emergency button and quickly went to work trying to find the source of the issue, waiting for the nurses to come as back up.

“Danny. Danny, stay with me. Listen to my voice. Hold on, alright? Nurses are heading here now, and we’re going to take care of you,” she said calmly, betraying her shaking hands.

They set to work immediately, trying to keep him from slipping into unconsciousness, all four nurses working swiftly, nimble fingers and precise movements, never getting into each others’ way.

Sienna watched from outside as they worked, glass box open, desperately wishing she had a hazmat suit. Ethan and Jackie observed, giving calm commands.

“Sienna!”

She turned, eyes red rimmed from crying and lack of sleep, startling Elijah as he rolled to a stop next to her.

“Jackie asked me to send an intern up to bring you a hazmat suit… but I thought I’d bring it myself, to check on you,” he said, eyebrows furrowed, handing the folded hazmat suit from his lap to her arms.

“Don’t feel like you need to talk to me right now, alright? I’ll wait out here, if you need me.” He gave her a sympathetic smile as he patted her arm.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, hastily throwing on the hazmat suit and ripping at the zipper, growing more and more frustrated as it caught on her clothes. “Come on. Come on, come on –”

“Here, let me help,” Elijah offered. “Bend down and I’ll zip it up.”

She followed his instruction and squatted as Elijah glided the zipper upwards, patting her back softly when he was done.

And like before, she had no time to thank him. She didn’t want to miss one second with Danny.

She burst into the room, not disturbing the hive-like efficiency of the nurses.

She watched as they poked and prodded and worked tirelessly to keep him conscious. There was an undeniable tension in the air, stretched so thin it could snap at any moment.

The strained atmosphere of the room didn’t come from the doctors – it came from the nurses. Sienna knew how much Danny meant to his coworkers. He was always the first to resolve conflict and make people feel at ease.

They were tight knit; losing Danny would be a crushing blow.

“Please, Jackie, tell me what’s happening,” she said between panicky breaths, unable to contain her anxiety. “I need to know.”

“We’re trying to stabilize him… but we’re not sure what’s causing him to go into shock in the first place,” Jackie said, brows furrowed.

Three long, painful minutes later, his heart rate returned to normal, his whole body in a feverish sweat.

“That took a lot out of him,” Sienna whispered, watching a nurse press a damp, cool cloth to his forehead and neck.

“You know we have to get rid of your bag, right? It’s contaminated,” Jackie grimaced, motioning to the nurse that was zipping it into a sealed bag, about to throw it away.

“No, you can’t – I didn’t even get to finish reading Ninradell to him last night,” Sienna pleaded, rushing forward to the nurse.

“You can’t take it out of this room,” Ethan shook his head, his statement dismissive, but his tone of voice sympathetic.

“Can I at least finish reading it to him? I promise I’ll dispose of it properly. I just… I need some more time with him.”

“I don’t think –” “I’ll stay with her,” Jackie nodded, holding Ethan’s gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll page you if anything happens.”

With one firm tilt of his chin, he left the room, presumably towards Spencer and Rafael.

“We think he can hear what’s going on around him, so it’s actually a great idea to read to him,” Jackie said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It might help pull him through this.”

Jackie grabbed the bag from the nurse wordlessly, handing it back to Sienna. “You can take a break,” she said to the group of nurses anxiously huddled next to Danny. “We’ll watch over him.”

One of them started sealing the box, but Sienna stopped them with a frantic “Wait.”

“Keep it open. I’ll seal it later,” Jackie ordered gently.

She slipped into the seat next to him, holding firmly onto the edge of the glass.

Jackie must’ve noticed she was debating whether or not she should touch him, so she confirmed it for her. “You can touch him. Don’t be afraid.”

“But I am,” she said, voice cracking, tears threatening to spill. It was tiresome how much she’d cried over the past twelve hours.

She was thankful he’d held on for that long, but she had no idea when it was coming. From his steadily declining health as well as appearance, it was inevitable.

“I’m so scared,” Sienna whispered, refusing to look at her, eyes trained on the rise and fall of his chest.

“You have every right to be, babe. I’m so sorry,” Jackie said, striding over to rest an arm around her shoulders.

“I… told him I needed more time to be me, you know? I needed to figure out more about me because with Wayne and with surviving last year and the stuff with Spencer and Mrs. Martinez and – and –” she cut herself off, trying to regain her composure.

“You lost sight of who you were.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it. Everything I thought I knew was thrown out the window and it’s like I haven’t even had time to recover,” she said, her voice still wavering.

“I did the same thing last year. But you can’t beat yourself up about it. You never in a million years would’ve guessed that this could happen.”

Sienna took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to unravel the tight coil in her chest. “But he was the only thing making coming to work worth it. I like him a lot and I just… told him to wait.”

“If he had a problem with that, he would’ve moved on.”

She glanced up, met with Jackie’s soft expression, sympathetic and kind – so much different than the tough exterior she was used to. “Don’t blame yourself, Sienna. It’ll break you.”

She knew she was right, but the nagging voice at the back of her mind wouldn’t allow her to let it go.

She cracked the book open, flipping to the last page she’d read from, about two-thirds into it. But before she could start reading, Danny stirred.

His hand twitched, his fingers flexing like he was grabbing for something. Without a second thought she grasped his hand between her glove-clad palms, the book clamoring onto the ground.

“Sienna…” he whispered, trying to open his eyes, but they fluttered shut, like a weight pulling at his lashes.

She wanted desperately to see his bright eyes again, to hear him to reassure her that it’d all work out. That she’d be okay. That he’d be okay.

“Hey, I’m here,” she said, lightly squeezing her hand.

He moaned, presumably in pain, wiggling like he couldn’t stay still.

“How bad is your pain on a scale 1-10? I’m gonna count up and you squeeze my hand to stop me, alright?”

He gave a weak tilt of his chin, a single nod the only thing he could muster.

She began counting. “One… two… three…”

Nothing.

She kept counting, feeling a weak squeeze when she said “Nine.”

“I’ve never felt this bad before,” he whispered, Sienna having to lean in to hear him.

“Danny, if it’s a ten, you need to tell me,” she chewed the inside of her lip, already racking her brain for the best pain medicine that wouldn’t react with the mystery poison.

“It’s not at a ten…” He stirred, wincing, managing a weak smile. “Because you’re here with me.”

He sighed, like it took a lot out of him to say two sentences.

“That was so sweet,” she said, glancing up at Jackie, knowing her haunted expression would ruin the moment if she let him see it.

Jackie looked equally as upset, her jaw set, fists clenched at her side.

“Stop it, Dr. Varma… you’ve done –” he took another deep, shuddering breath. “You’ve done so much for me already.”

“So have you. You’re a trooper,” Jackie nodded, looking up at the ceiling. Sienna couldn’t tell if she was trying to hold back tears or keep herself from thinking about it. “Thanks for holding out for us, Danny.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can, though,” he said, gripping Sienna’s hand, opening his eyes unexpectedly.

She shook her head, holding his hand to her chest. “No, don’t think like that. You can hold on for a while longer. I believe in you.”

“Sienna… You’re my favorite person,” he breathed, looking up at her with a spark of life in his eyes, a contrast from the gaunt look of his face. His dark circles gave the allusion that his eyes were sunken in, a skeleton of who he was less than 24 hours ago.

It scared the hell out of her how quickly he changed – and how content he looked with slipping away.

“You have to let them test on me,” he squeezed her hand. “It’ll help.”

“No, you’re gonna be fine –”

“It’s okay,” he reassured her, a soft smile adorning his lips, pale and cracked. “You’ll be okay.”

He craned his neck, trying to hold his head up. Sienna slipped her hand underneath the nape of his neck, supporting him. He tilted his head forward, lightly pressing his damp forehead against her hazmat suit.

She leaned forward, pressing hers against the loose protective fabric, feeling the warmth of his skin through it.

“You can’t go, I – your family hasn’t even gotten to visit you –” She choked, the warm tears dotting the thick plastic screen, streaking down to fall farther into her suit.

“They couldn’t get here in time,” he said, matter-of-factly.

They sat there like that for a while. Her concept of time was thrown out the window as soon as she got the initial page, so it could’ve been ten seconds or ten minutes.

“Thank you for reading to me.”

She laughed, sniffling. “We spent all night talking about Ninradell, so it was only fitting I stayed up all night to read it to you.”

Another little while passed. Talking took so much out of him, that he had to take a few breaks between his speech so he wouldn’t pass out from exhaustion. “Don’t blame yourself,” he said, cutting through the silence. “You couldn’t have stopped this.”

She stared at her hands, clasped around his own, drained of color. He’d closed his eyes, so thankfully he couldn’t see her pained expression.

“I know. I can’t help but feel responsible for everything, even when it’s out of my control… I’m so sorry,” she said, voice breaking for the millionth time. She could barely form words without choking on them.

She cursed herself for not being stronger. Overwhelming emotion was enough to render her speechless, meanwhile Danny was pushing through searing pain in order to leave her with words she’d carry with her forever.

He’d mustered his last bit of energy to tell her to be kind to herself.

The machine behind him beeped. His heart rate had slowed to a crawl, and he was gone before Jackie could spring to action.

And when his hand went limp in between her palms, she let out an inhuman wail that no one, not even Spencer, had heard before.

––––

tags: @saintniceguy ; @part-of-the-circus ; @vandalasal ; @dudebro-lahela ; @averysheart-raleighsdick ; @cptnvers ; @bringing-back-socks-with-sandals ; @la-huerta ; @ironysyndrome ; @anotordinarygoldfish ; @pumpkinbutt ; @browneyedmissy ; @soo-empty ; @anonymous2094 ; @lumpyspaceprincessismybitch ; @lady-stirling ; @papinaveensbitch ; @writinghereandthere ; @unusualvisionsblog ; @beccadavenport ; @messofakind ; @violinet ; @serafinedupont ; @raleiighcarrera ; @pixeljazzy ; @pixelsandkink ; @altairadtaz

#open heart #sienna trinh #danny cardinal #sienna x danny #danny x sienna #my fic #jade writes choices fics #sorry if i normally tag u and forgot !!!#prob need to make a taglist but i am SO inconsistent im sorry #also im sorry if this isn't great LMAO again i wrote this out of rage and pure spite so #like i said hopefully that makes up for it !!!#very nervous ab this one !!!!#tw death #tw loss

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vydante · 5 years

Text

Restart | Avengers x Male! Reader | 11

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)

Plot: Dr. Strange said there was only one possibility of winning the battle against Thanos.

But when (Name) is forced into the past and into his younger body, he’s suddenly given the chance to start over and prevent the future from happening again.

So which route are you going to take? Are you going to risk the future and take preventative measures, or live life with the Avengers for the next 4 years, knowing what will soon come?

A/N: Different format this time, taken like a video log, though it’s mostly dialogue.

[Action: enter folder titled ‘Project Renaissance’.]

...

[Enter Password: |]

[Enter Password: 1R0NM4NSU|]

[Enter Password: 1R0NM4NSUXXAP3XRUL35 |]

[Action: enter.]

...

[Password Accepted.]

[Accessing…]

[Enter folder name.]

[Action: “video logs”.]

[Searching…]

[Folder ‘Video Logs’ found. Would you like to play from the beginning?]

[Action: “Yes.”]

...

[Playing… “uh i don’t know name it whatever you want”, date created: 10-23-2013.]

...

“Is this thing on? Hello? Hell-o?”

The video feed shows your lone figure in your lab. It’s dark outside as the timestamp in the corner indicates that it’s half past midnight. You’re sitting directly in front of the camera, dressed in pajamas but no signs of fatigue anywhere.

You visibly huff, but only mirth flickers through your eyes as you look directly into the camera. It doesn’t last long as your eyes travel over to the camera feed and now you’re just looking at yourself as you begin to talk.

“Alright, so uh. Yadda yadda yadda, I planned to manually enter and type all of this out, but… I thought why not record it all in a log along the way? Fun, huh?”

You trail off on that thought, mumbling something about ‘well, that’s what my therapist said, anyways. Ah, wait, I don’t have her yet… mm, should probably look into that…’.

“Anyways, this is day one of Project Renaissance, or as it’s also known as, Project Get-Our-Shit-Together-Before-We-Get-Our-Lives-Rocked-By-Thanos.”

You shrug nonchalantly, but to the keenest of eyes, there was a stiffness in your posture when you mentioned Thanos. It was brief, but present nonetheless as it quickly dissipates from your shoulders.

“And, we don’t have to worry about any of this being leaked or whatever, because this is all on my sweet DAHLIA’s servers! Say something to the camera.”

“Something to the camera,” a dull female voice spoke up from the ceiling, Australian accent thick.

“Charming,” you purse your lips as if to hold back a smile, “Anyways, where was I…”

“Oh, yeah- Renaissance. So this is gonna be a long, long project with a bunch of other mini-folders inside.”

You swiped your hands across the air, slicing through as blue holograms appeared in front of the camera. There were already dozens of folders, but the camera catches only a few of their names.

‘Firecracker’, ‘Thunderpants’, and ‘Accords’ are some that are visible.

“I just wanted to get on base with what we have so far, but it’s not much considering it’s, y’know, only day one.”

You mumble something incoherent away from the camera before gazing back up on the camera feed, not quite looking directly into the camera itself. To the left of you, there’s a hologram of a checklist that you occasionally glance through as you resume speaking.

“Main objective of this project: prevent Thanos from decimating half of the universe, preferably killing him in the process. Side objectives: keep the Avengers together, current members optional, new members in need nonetheless. Contenders in another file.”

You glance at the checklist.

“Current objective: locate and capture Barnes, codename Winter Soldier, and any other Winter Soldiers, and sift through S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database for traces of HYDRA.”

“Sidenote: we, ah, started the search yesterday- for Barnes. So far, it’s… Not really promising. I, uh, initially gave the timeline to find Barnes a few days max, but man, I’m starting to doubt that…”

You sigh, scratching at your arm irritably.

“Whatever…” you mumbled.

“Anyways.”

“I, ah, I don’t know for sure what I want to do with Barnes, but considering that I’ll probably have more than ample time to think about it, I’m not worrying about it too much. As for his triggers…”

You glanced at an adjacent folder, almost contemplating.

“I know of one person who can help, but I’m not exactly putting too much hope for that one. So.”

“We might have to resort to B.A.R.F. when it’s ready. DAHLIA, who- who was on that case again?”

“Mr. Quentin Beck and his team, doll.”

“Ah, yeah, Beck. Cute, tall, big ole’ eyes?”

An image hologram pops up in front of you, presumably of Quentin Beck.

“I don’t know about ‘cute’, but in essence? Yep.”

You ignored DAHLIA’s apparent judgment in your taste in men.

“Gotcha. Well, there’s that we can resort to if need be. Um…”

“Well, as for HYDRA, that’s… That’s a whole ‘nother can of worms right there.”

You sighed, and this is the first inkling of exhaustion you’ve shown so far. You deflate a little bit and spend the next few minutes staring at something behind the monitor in silence. You’re deep in thought before your phone buzzes.

Then, the video feed cuts off.

…

[Video end. Selecting next in queue…]

[Playing… “okay don’t do that weird thing where you record everything i say and make it the title, please dahlia anyways uh i wanna name it uh huh um shit dahlia i swear to god stop doing that”, date created: 11-02-2013.]

…

“Wow, alright, I was watching the last log last night and man did I literally got nothing done. I mean, it was the first day, but still! Still, I fucking…”

Your voice trails off as you walk away from the screen, holding what appears to be a big box filled with papers and envelopes. You set it down in the far corner of the lab, still talking but your words are unintelligible as the microphone is too far to hear anything.

“... And yet here I am, just- ugh!”

You dropped your body onto the chair and plopped right in front of the screen. Your hair is disheveled, undersuit still on. There’s a bruise forming on your forehead, but you don’t really seem to care about your messy appearance.

You pointed a lazy finger towards the corner, a small grin as you try to line it up with the camera feed.

“That’s fanmail- apparently someone has been neglecting to read those… It’s me, I’m someone.”

You chuckle to yourself.

“Mm, I’ll read myself to sleep later, probably hang all of it up on a mural wall somewhere. Or the ceiling, that works too. Anyways. Just went on a, shall I say, self-imposed mission. It was, ah, to look for Barnes.”

You sheepishly smiled.

“‘Was followin’ a lead from DAHLIA, a potential hit marker, but- it was just a- a barely running base. Nothin’ new, but- it’s nice. To fly and- and fight in the suit every now and then.”

You shake your head.

“Not the- the current one. The nanite one. It’s- god, I miss it, you know?”

Your eyes glaze over, a faraway glint in your eyes as you paused your ranting. This goes on for about 24 more seconds before you started talking again, voice smaller.

“I did this thing, with dad. After the whole, um, Accords bullshit. He- we would get into our suits- the newer models, and just… Go at each other. No repulsors, no nothing. Just raw, brutal punches in the suit. No holding back, no making sure the other one’s okay after a good blow… Just… We just hailed on each other, you know?”

“I mean, obviously we weren’t trying to kill each other, but sometimes it… It felt close, y’know? Nothing personal, but… It was primal, sometimes. Sometimes he’d knock my jaw a little too loose and all I’d ever see would be red… It was wild, I’ll tell you that.”

“But- we only did it here and there, considerin’, y’know. He’s-... He was getting older, and I was… getting busier.” You sighed. “No one knew about it either; god knows how Rhodey or ma’ would react to us- just- beating the shit out of each other.”

You smiled, though it looked more like a grimace.

“It was fun, though. Get the frustrations out. Work on our weaknesses. Show no hesitation. It’s…”

There’s a sudden hollowness in your eyes as your face shifts, an expression years older than you were currently. Haunted, almost. You shake your head, whatever traces of your former self now gone as you smiled- though, there was nothing genuine to that smile at all.

“... Not important. Anyways.”

You shifted in your seat, clearly uncomfortable at the stagnant air despite being the only one in the room.

“So yeah. HYDRA. I took out everyone at that base. Nothing left. Downloaded whatever they had, wiped it, then burnt it to a crisp. The usual, nothing new, nothing important…”

You shrugged, “It’s harder to get the Avengers to look the other way when I’m doing these solo missions. I’m pretty sure Natasha’s getting sus about this… Nothing tied to me, but. Still.”

“But yeah, DAHLIA’s sifting through the information right now.”

Your eyes shift to the left, presumably a screen with said findings loading in.

“So-o... There was… There was that.”

You paused, trying to gather your thoughts when your eyes flickered.

“Ah- but to continue to the last log; HYDRA… Man. HYDRA, HYDRA, HYDRA. Always a pain in the ass.”

You scowled.

“I thought it was gonna take me a little longer to sift through the S.H.I.E.L.D. database, but surprisingly enough, it was… Kind of easy to sort out HYDRA and Not-HYDRA.”

You scratched your head in confusion.

“Back a couple of years ago- or, well, in… Next year, actually. June? Well- Team Cap is gonna go haywire on S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA and Project Insight and basically dump all that good-good, and we,” you noted with an oddly bitter tone, “were left to clean up the mess they made. And, well, it exposed a lot of active field agents. Shit, man.”

You scrubbed your face with your hands, which were marred with fresh scratches and burn marks. It’s unclear where they came from, but you don’t seem bothered by it.

“So many agents were killed in that stunt. God…”

Your voice is muffled, but still audible.

“There was one agent… Codename Acai. Sweet gal, ‘cording to her co-workers. Little unhinged, but she got the work done. She… She was undercover in North Korea for a few years. Got busted by the data dump. And…”

“God, they just…”

You sighed gruffly, refusing to look anywhere near the camera.

“It was rough, finding her body. Kept looking for her even months after the whole Ultron bullshit. By the time we got to her, it took us months to I.D. her body- even worse? North Korea already had her death listed as suicide under her fake name. Bullshit! Parts of her was missin’, how the fuck is that a suicide?! Both feet, gone. Her sternum was nowhere to be found. How- I just…!”

You gritted your teeth.

“I just don’t understand what they were thinking when they pulled that dumbass stunt to release all of that- that sensitive data…! I thought- oh, maybe, maybe, HYDRA had already corrupted a large part of S.H.I.E.L.D., that’s why they did it!”

“But no! No- do you know how much of S.H.I.E.L.D. was infected? How much?!”

You pinched your fingers together and squinted at the camera with a visceral smile.

“6 percent. That 6 percent accounted for a majority of the higher-ups. Not lower field combatants. Not the technicians. The higher-ups.”

“6 percent of S.H.I.E.L.D. was HYDRA,” you hissed, “yet they still endangered the other 94% active and non-active members! Fuck- it was a miracle! A miracle, that we got to any of the agent’s family that had been documented before HYDRA or anyone else could!”

“It’s a miracle that the Bartons even made it- and we didn’t even know about them until Ultron! It’s just-... Fuck!”

Growling, you knocked your head against the metal table in front of you. The camera shakes a little bit.

“God, Romanoff, what the fuck were you thinkin’? You were supposed to keep them in check, not… Not be so goddamn stupid!”

You growled under your breath, taking a moment to breathe. You lifted your head up with a neutral face and exhaled.

“Whatever. What’s done is done. I’ve- I’ve had years to simmer over it and I’m- I’m not. Angry. I swear I’m not. It’s done, it happened. But. Hopefully in this timeline… It won’t happen. Not like that, at least.”

There was a peculiar glint in your eyes as you started reaching into one of your cabinets.

“And I know just how to stop it.”

You raised your eyebrows with your eyes closed, reluctant to repeat what you had already said.

“Again, sifted through S.H.I.E.L.D. for HYDRA. Got the information. And it is all. In. Here.”

You pulled back up to reveal a small black USB flash drive. There’s nothing of interest to it on the outside, but it’s what’s inside that really, really counted.

“This bad boy has all the shit that HYDRA’s been skeemin’ all up in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s system. I- well.”

“I actually have 2 of these, but, ah. One’s already on the way to ole’ Saint Nick.”

You brushed a hand through your hair. It’s grown quite a bit and in need of trimming.

“Because if there’s one thing I know for sure about S.H.I.E.L.D.? Nick ain’t apart of HYDRA, no matter how much of a scumbag he is. And, really… I’d like to think I trust him to handle this situation properly- more so than anyone else but me and my dad. Obviously, dad can’t- he can’t ever know about… About this.”

Despite referring to the USB in your hands, your words were heavy nonetheless. It wasn’t just the flash drive you were referring to.

“So Fury’s getting the other bad boy. Worth millions, and 2 of a kind, too.”

“Well, I sent it to the bastard. Hopefully, he doesn’t trash it, or whatever. Soon.”

You hummed. Setting the USB down on the table, you made direct eye contact with the camera and posed with pouty lips. You threw up a peace sign ironically and grinned.

“Well, that’s that. Oh, and Clint vomited on Steve’s clothes yesterday. Not important, but funny nonetheless. Deuces!”

…

[Video end. Selecting next in queue…]

[Playing… “dahlia we don’t have the fucking time for this get the damn suit”, date created: 11-29-2013.]

…

“Hi.”

You’re still in your school clothes that day, a simple sweater and sweatpants. Your letterman is hanging on the back of your seat for going to the robotics competitions your school had.

The timestamp also indicates that you had just gotten out of school too- though, it is considerably dark outside. Snowing that day, most likely. And still is, probably.

“So, uh. Fury got the message, I think.”

You spun around in your chair, knees up to your chest.

“Usually we’re getting harassed by him every now and then to do missions, but Natasha just came home yesterday sayin’, like. ‘Fury’s put my mission on hold’, or something.”

“He doesn’t know I sent it to him, I think. But. Thing’s’re getting pret-ty serious now, huh.”

You shrugged.

“Well, whatever. I didn’t come here to talk about Fury, though. I came here to update on, ah, a few things.”

“I know I haven’t touched base with- well, you,” You gave the camera a saucy wink, “about a lot of my projects so far. So, here are a few that I’ve been thinking of implementing.”

A picture is pulled up from your desktop. It’s an aerial shot of a brunet talking to his friend, both of a juvenile appearance. There’s another picture, a 3D generated image of a red and blue suit.

“So. Peter Parker.”

Sigh.

“I… really, really, really don’t want him to be involved in any of this. No superhero bullshit, no nothing.”

“He’s young. He doesn’t- doesn’t need to be involved with this mess. I just… I just want him to have a normal life.”

‘One I never got to have; one he’ll never get to have,’ goes unsaid, but you continued on.

“But… By my reasoning, I am… Hypocritical in my justification.”

You paused, frowning as you look at the picture long and hard. When you speak up, your voice is noticeably quieter.

“He was just as old as I was when I started this whole Apex mantle thing. Hell, he might’ve been older. Will be older. And quite frankly, I can’t stop him even if I wanted to. He’ll still do it, still go out and fight and just-...”

“He’ll do it unsupervised, and that’s what scares me the most.”

You mumble under your breath, “He reminds me too much of… Me. Young, dumb, and reckless as all hell.”

You shook your head and pulled up another file. This one’s a text file, and it’s detailed enough to go on for pages and pages, but clearly there’s more to be added.

“So, what I’m hoping to do is… Start an internship program. Start- start him early. The sooner, the better control he’ll have over his powers. The better experience he’ll get. And, of course, with the additional benefits of, well. Being in an actual internship program.”

“What that will intel? I don’t know. But I think… I think both the students and SI can- can benefit off of that.”

“So, that was one of my projects. Another one is about, well.”

You swallowed hard for this one.

“Extremis.”

You held your hands up as if trying to halt the camera- even the viewer- from freaking out.

“Listen, look, I know, I know- ‘oh, Extremis is already stabilized, oh, why mess with it even more, oh, just leave it alone it’ll make you explode into a thousand firecrackers, oh’- I get it. I know.”

“But… Listen to me.”

“I really, really do think Hansen was onto something with Extremis, no matter how evil and fucked up it is now. It… With a little bit of love and care, I really do think it can help. Maybe not- not on a mass-production scale- or for commercial use, period- but still.”

You licked your lips, eyes flickering to a picture of you, Tony, and Rhodey eating ice cream on your desk.

“I… It can be a last resort type of thing. It- it has the potential. So, so much potential.”

You chuckled to yourself.

“Well, it’s not like you- whoever else that isn’t me that’s watching this- can convince me otherwise. Don’t worry, no live subjects. No evil scientist bull, just… Just trust me, please.”

It’s unclear who exactly you’re referring to, but it’s as if there’s a specific person you’re trying to plead with despite knowing that no matter what, this footage- along with the rest- will be forever condemned to rest in the grave that is DAHLIA’s protected database.

“So, yeah. Working a little bit on Extremis. Um, I wish I could say that the next projects are more- light-hearted, but. Not really, no.”

“I’m… Well, there’s no easy way to say this: I’m thinking of filing a class-action lawsuit on Ross.”

And with that bombshell of an announcement to the camera, the Avengers alert rang across the building.

“Fuck- DAHLIA, end it- put me on comms!”

…

[Video end. Selecting next in queue…]

[Playing… “i am so mad i didn’t think about this before dahlia change the mission objective”, date created: 12-18-2013.]

…

...

“Would you believe me if I said I completely forgot about these whole video log things?”

Your back is turned to the camera, completely shirtless and hair dripping wet. You’re texting someone, and you’re typing a little bit furiously. The camera catches the other person sending a cat picture. You huff, but turn your phone off and set it to the side.

“So. Ross.”

You shake your head.

“Sorry to drop a bombshell like that on you,” you quietly address the camera, “then disappear on a mission, but-”

“There’s nothing concrete now. Just- it’s just an idea. I think…”

“I think Bruce would like it. There’s- there’s a lot of dirt on Ross. So much shit that can get him life, too. Maybe even death if we play our cards right, but… I want that bastard to suffer. And quite frankly, if I can get rid of him now, the better the Avengers will be in the future.”

You rolled your shoulders, a satisfying crack echoes from you and you grinned for a moment, before smoothing your face out into something more neutral. You leaned back in your chair, and take a breather.

“So, uh. It’s been… Over a month, I’d say? Since I started these whole video logs. Um… No traces on Barnes. It’s…”

You glance up at the ceiling with a pained expression.

“It’s frustrating as hell. You’d think, with access to a majority, if not all of the satellites and cameras and whatnot, we’d find him easier…”

“It’s like he’s not even doing anything, at all. No missions, no assassinations or whatever… Nothing. Nada. It’s like… It’s like he’s not even being deplo-”

You paused. It’s clear that the gears inside your head are turning. You narrowed your eyes, a smile threatening to break out as you reached towards the camera buttons.

“Sonnofabitch.”

…

[Video end. Selecting next in queue…]

[Playing… “i won’t let history repeat again starting with him”, date created: 12-29-2013.]

…

...

“So. I’m, uh, major update.”

Unlike the previous video logs where you were in your lab, this one is different. The camera is a lot closer to your face and from a bottom perspective as you hold the camera.

You’ve got part of your helmet, chest plate, shoulders, gauntlets, and presumably your boots still on as your steps are heavy and clanking. There’s blood smeared across your forehead. You’re slightly out of breath as you glance at something outside of the camera’s perspective.

Around you, the view is shaky and it’s unclear where you’re walking. None of the interior decors indicates that you’re in the tower- in fact, it’s barren and empty.

You glance down at the camera view.

“Remember the last log? Well, I uh, sort of had an epiphany, if you will.”

You continue walking, but you’ve reached a door mechanism. You punch in some numbers and continue talking as the doors open wide.

“It was strange, that I got no hits of a Winter Soldier stalking around anywhere. Sure, he’s a trained spy and killer, but no one’s that slick- not even Natasha, as much as she thinks otherwise.”

You’re in an elevator now, catching your breath slightly as you drew your eyebrows together. There’s a dinging noise, indicating the floors you’re ascending- or descending, as it’s unclear what story you’re on.

“It was like there was no Winter Soldier; at least, no active one.”

“That got me thinking. He’s- what- from the 20’s? He should’ve been, say, early thirties, so 31? 32? At the time he went missing, anyways. But the thing is… Even in the future, the man looks barely in his late thirties. Barely.”

You tap your feet impatiently, boots echoing in the small space.

“But he’s been the Winter Soldier for, what, almost 70 years? Shit don’t add up.”

“So, while he’s practically responsible for so many goddamn murders, he’s probably not always… Awake. Active. I was thinking, shit, if he ain’t up and about right now, where the hell is he?”

“So I did some more digging. Found a Winter Soldier file in S.H.I.E.L.D.- er, HYDRA’s database. There’s… A bunch. Of the Winter Soldiers, I mean. But none of them were- was Barnes. Just a bunch of knock offs.”

You glance up at the floor indicator. The camera shifts and the numbers blink downwards.

-3… -4… -5...

“But I found something interestin’. There’s a- a list. Of HYDRA bases. Had no idea what they were for, but I took a hot guess.”

“One of them was Siberia. First one I went to- no Barnes. A bunch of other Winter Soldiers, though. The failed ones.”

“I…”

There’s a moment of hesitation, unsure if you should say what you’re about to say.

“I shot them dead.”

The ball drops just as the elevator dings, doors opening as you stepped out with a confidence that doesn’t match the remorse in your eyes.

“It’s. Look, I know it- that’s fucking. Insane. Inhumane. Murder. I don’t care. It’s- it’s too goddamn dangerous, having them- alive! I don’t know if there was any- any redemption for them.”

“But in the end, they- they were willing soldiers for HYDRA. The best, even. Anyone who- who willingly works for HYDRA… I’m not too sure I can trust them.”

You growled.

“Shit, I trusted Maximoff… And look where that got us.”

“I’m not fucking risking it with them.”

You shook your head, face smoothing out so it’s only the stressed wrinkles on your forehead that’s present. Your eyes soften minutely so.

“But for Barnes… There’s a chance. He’s a goddamn POW, and… If Shuri succeeded in getting rid of the trigger words, then there’s. A. Chance.”

“And… I’m willing to take that risk with him.”

The camera shifts, staring directly at the underside of your jaw. You cough and recalibrate the camera so it’s at a better angle.

“Anyways.”

“I… I went down the list. Of the bases? I didn’t- didn’t infiltrate them per se. It’s too risky- a majority of those bases are major ones. So I just… Snuck around. Looked at the infrastructure for anything that remotely looked like a certain Winter Soldier would be in.”

You stopped walking, now staring directly at something behind the camera. Your lips are pressed in a grim line.

“And I hit the jackpot.”

You should be happy about it if you took those words out of context, but your expression is far from it. Guilt, pity, and an earthly weariness mares your eyes as you huff.

“Everybody, say hi to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.”

The camera view flips, and in the front stage center is a big chamber, similar to that of a hulk play box. But while it is smaller, the glass is noticeably thicker. In the corner, outside of the chamber, is Mark 22 standing eerily still with its glowing eyes trained on Barnes. It’s in a neutral stance, but it’s clear that it won’t hesitate to incapacitate the soldier if it came down to it.

And on the furthest wall inside the chamber is Barnes, slumped on the ground with a pool of water around him. He’s wet as well, but unconscious. He’s in his military tactical gear, too, though there are no weapons visible on him.

The microphone picks up your sigh.

“I… I don’t know what to do with him. I- I saw the fucking- freezer they kept him in, but. It was a quick operation- I had no time to get the damn thing out without them- HYDRA- noticing me. So. Guess that throws out the plan to keep him- frozen like a popsicle until further notice.”

Barnes twitches slightly, and his fingers move. There’s an audible grunt, and your breath hitches as you swerve the camera back on you. Your eyes are wide, and you throw the camera a nervous grin that’s more akin to a grimace. In the background, your suit whirs to life.

You gave a nod to the camera.

“Wish me luck.”

…

[Video end.]

[Play again?]

Masterlist

Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit, @tonystanktheirondad, @ludwigvonbaethoven, @fabledxmystery

#male reader #male!reader #x male reader #male reader insert #avengers x male reader #Avengers #reader insert #Bucky Barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x male reader #winter soldier #restart

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polandspringz · 4 years

Text

Director’s Cut of My Fic “I’d Rather Be Dry” Part 2 (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3 was probably the most painful chapter of a fic I’ve ever had to write, and not because I was sad writing the sad scenes. No, this fic was physically painful to write because it took 3 days and I was struggling to sit down and write it the entire time because even though I had the whole thing planned out, I just felt like I was dragging through it and eventually had to change some things to speed it up a bit. Still, it ended up being the longest chapter because I had to tie up so many loose ends! Luckily for me, my beta-reader @primal-shitposts read it through for me again, so I didn’t have to suffer again!!! If you want to support not only me but my beta-reader who makes sure my fic lacks grammar errors (and also gives you this great commentary on these types of posts), please go to their art blog @primal-interstellar and give their artwork some love!!! They deserve it after slogging through this mess of a fic for a game they don’t even play.

Since there are a lot of funny quotes from this proof-read, I’ll post them all under read more. Beta-reader (Primal) is in pink. If you see blue text, that’s me typing stuff in frantically before she skipped to the next line:

I actually originally wrote the opening scene with Satan in a lot more detail. It dropped us in the present where he was in the office, and Diavolo and everyone was just looking on as he slowly ran out of energy. But, I got about 3 pages in and realized it was dragging and so I cut it and swapped it for a flashback on the walk home.

While I intended for this to be a much more dramatic anime scene of Satan just silent as he ran out of steam and could barely move his arms save for slapping the guy, I love this interpretation.

I CAN’T EXPLAIN WHY BUT THIS WAS THE FUNNIEST COMMENT IN THE DOCUMENT. NOTHING TOPPED THIS. I DON’T UNDERSTAND BUT IT’S SO OUT OF LEFT FIELD IT HAD ME DYING

Primal knows about Lucifer birthing Satan because the moment I started playing the game I made her watch a crack video with me that mentioned it. Although I know she likes Leviathan cause sea monsters, I’m convinced Satan might be one of her favorites. On a side note, writing dialogue for Satan is very hard because he is very proper but when he snaps, I always feel unsure of whether it sounds believable or just like a string of curses that a twelve year old would think sounds cool. 😎 I do like the father/son dynamic Lucifer and Satan hint at though (and from what I hear the new lessons might be adding on to that? oWO)

I honestly don’t know how the demons who attacked MC aren’t dead yet. They’re basically disfigured and then Satan just doubled the damage and then tripled it in the council room this chapter. Somehow they’re not dead though! I wonder what MC will have to say about their punishment...

QUICK, SOMEONE DRAW SATAN WITH THE CRAFTING TABLE STARING AT THE DOOR WHILE THE EQUATIONS FLY BY HIS HEAD

I did choose the “yes” option when Beel asked to eat me in the animal event. It was not because of vore though, but I do make many vore jokes. I could imagine MC being forced to explain vore to Lucifer (or all the brothers) after making a joke and them being confused. Writing Beel’s breakdown this chapter wasn’t initially planned, and it was sort of what really started to make writing this fic slow down because as you might notice throughout the fic, I suddenly felt the need to give every brother an equal amount of screen time which sort of led to me RUNNING OUT OF VERBS for how to make each breakdown unique.

Okay, so the next part. I was actively seeing the comments as they popped up, but there was a delay with the comment box on the side appearing before the actual comments in the text. So, I saw this:

And had two seconds to go “Oh no” before this was added:

From here on it was chaos.

Listen, the boys are idiots. They’re all concerned, Mammon just doesn’t want MC to get upset again. In reality, this sort of dialogue stemmed more from me still lingering on the original idea of the fic. The original concept of this fic (when it was just a one-shot) was MC still getting attacked by a demon in the locker-room showers (for their soul) but because I was originally thinking about a female reader, I knew that it could have more of an undertone for sexual assault. I actually first discussed the fic idea with Primal months back when I first got into Obey Me, because I wanted to write a snippet of each brother helping MC after the event (it wasn’t going to be extreme, I was thinking more accidental scratches during the scuffle closer to the chest and such and maybe the assailants having more dialogue demeaning MC for being around the 7 brothers all the time) but I realized I didn’t have much experience with that and it would make writing scenes that I thought about (such as Asmo wanting to give MC a bath as aftercare) difficult as I could see someone after an attack like that not wanting to be in a bathroom with someone else or be vulnerable to them. I ended up playing with that idea in my previous Mammon fic with more different comfort aspects and touching on that kind of assault briefly, so this fic ended up just being focused on the brothers’ being upset over what happened to MC.

As much as writing Satan’s angry dialogue is a pain, I have fun making him talk with a more formal tone, it’s closer to how I normally talk, and prefer to write my characters talking. I have no problem writing contractions or more casual speech, but for one of my fantasy stories, where I’m writing in English but trying to differentiate different languages through italics or just whether they use certain contractions or not, I tend to really stress the characters that use absolutely zero and more complicated synonyms.

I DON’T KNOW WHY BUT IT WOULD BE HILARIOUS IF MC JUST ASKED FOR SOUP OUT OF THE BLUE I’M IMAGINING ASMO BEING LIKE “BITCH I TOOK ALL THIS TIME DEBATING OVER HOT OR COLD TEA AND NOW YOU’RE SAYING YOU’RE FINE WITH HOT SOUP???”

I know the shower idea may have been really corny or cringey. I know a lot of people write things like the water in Devildom as being much hotter (cause their near hell and their demons! It makes sense, also I think Asmo might have mentioned in a text chat he would make the water cooler for MC? But I could be wrong) but I imagine their is some demons who aren’t powerful enough to handle a lot of the settings. Of course though, our demon bros are 7 of the highest demons in Devildom, so they’re immune.

*Slaps this comment* Congrats, Primal. You just summarized the entire chapter.

I find Leviachan to be such a funny nickname, mainly because writing any dialogue for Levi makes me cringe because while I was a VERY big weeaboo in elementary and middle school, I was so lucky I never hit his stage of acting like an otaku. While it’s charming, having to type him in more modern fic is even more painful because it’s like “oh god he actually goes into the real world and talks like this). Sidenote, I always mispronounce Levi’s name when I’m talking about him, mainly because I have to remember so many anime characters where their name is pronounced Lee-Vai or I just think of the brand of jeans (fashion major brain). So, whenever I’m talking out loud about him to someone, I have to stop and be like, “Levi... Leviachan...Leviathan...” because that “a” sound corrects my brain to how it’s supposed to be.

*throws confetti again* Believe I felt the pain of this fic dragging through every boy going back on their character development I had given them but I felt it was only fair that each of them got time with MC. As the tag on archive says, “everybody gets time to shine with MC”. (I really just want to write Barbatos’ scene for chapter 4 though)

This scene was hard to write because I wanted Levi to get closure on the scene with MC, but I couldn’t have him straight up kabedon them because then he would be cornering them and I thought that would be too much like what MC went through in the shower. Although I didn’t write anyone in explicitly summarizing what happened to MC, and Levi saw the least of it, I think he’s seen enough series depicting it to know that cornering them would be bad, but he still wants to show that he loves them and cares about them. Also, when I was writing this, I remember just going through a counter of who got the most smooches in chapter 3. Originally only Mammon was going to get 2, putting him in the lead above everyone who got 1, but then I felt back for giving Levi the least screen time and just gave him 3.

Honestly, chapter 3 really took a turn for a more intimate chapter??? Especially with Asmo’s one-on-one scene with MC, it was all downhill from there. I have noticed with quarantine, my writing has become more focused on touch (if you read any of my Balance:Unlimited fics or even my Mammon fic, you would definitely die if you tried to do a drinking game with the number of times someone TOUCHES the other gently). It’s just an unfortunate projection issue that comes with writing.

And here is complete chaos. I had blocked this game from my memory and then I was forced to remember it right here.

Removing these meme images from the fic text will be tedious, and painful. But, I am preserving them here. (I type up these directors’ cuts before publishing the final version of the fic, so I don’t lose the comments)

I’m not even at lesson 16 yet, but based on all the spoilers I read, watched, and scene for research purposes, I’m pretty sure it was more of a-

This is what writing 11k+ words for one chapter worth it. The final read through I get to enjoy things like this.

I wish Belphie was 7′2″. 😳 I like Beel but Belphie is one of my favs. Ironically enough he was the one who skipped this fic. (I’ll make it up to you one day, Belphie fans.... will we ever know what they talked about and what made Belphie cry? Personally, I think it’s like the iceberg effect Hemingway talked about, and says more under the surface... it’s totally not because I got burned out, lolololol.... 🤭)

I WAS ACCIDENTALLY FEEDING DIALUCI STANS but again, if you’ve read my Mammon fic, you probably know my true thoughts on Diavolo and Lucifer’s relationship. This fic is so MC focused, I wasn’t intending to write it in so much, Diavolo was just supposed to order Lucifer to go home, that’s it. But, I got rejuvenated when I hit Lucifer’s scene, because I knew it was the homestretch for the chapter! I really played up a Hamilton reference accidentally, having the “Go home” line repeated, because it just felt like the vibe the scene was getting at. I am hoping to explore Diavolo and Lucifer’s relationship more in my modern au fic, Siberia.

I hate tumblr because if I attach a link in the initial post, this won’t appear in the tag, but Primal’s comment here made me think of this art I saw of Lucifer and Satan the other day by ObsessiveAlice (I don’t want to tag them because they’ll be so confused by this long unrelated post! But I’ll put the link to their art in the notes/replies on this post, so check them out!!!)

I know it wasn’t the most romantic kiss but again I WAS RUNNING OUT OF WAYS TO MAKE THE BROTHERS HAVE UNIQUE SCENES SO I GOT DESPERATE.

And that’s the end!!! Again, if you liked the fic, more than giving me a like or reblog, please go check out Primal’s wonderful artwork @primal-interstellar !!! She does a lot of great oc work and it needs more recognition!!! Almost all of my fics would never get posted without her help, so please, please, please show her support! (She has an animatic she just made which I will also link in the replies!!! Please give that love too!!!)

Anyway, if you made it to the end, I don’t know if you got a laugh out of this, but I hope you enjoyed the fic commentary somewhat! I was going to post chapter 3+4 at the same time like I did the prior chapters, but chapter 3 took so long I had to just lay on my floor for 3 hours earlier today to take a break from it, lol. Luckily, I’m very excited for chapter 4, so it shouldn’t take as long!!!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me masters #writing #my writing #fanfic #fic #obey me fic #directors cut

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b1a4seeyou · 5 years

Text

Midnight Comfort

Pairings involved: Masumi / Hana Tachibana (my director OC!)

Summary: Past memories couldn’t stop haunting in her dreams, no matter how often she tried to forget them. One night, she started to talk them out with little stalker boy.

Genre: Kinda angsty at first but there’s cute stuff!

Rating: None

Sidenote: Back at writing and decided to write out this drabble I had in my notes! This is for @a3week ‘s day 2! Well, this isn’t a ship kinda story, more of a buddy-buddy kind. (cant say that to Masumi’s face cvdfbrev) And to avoid any confusions, my director OC, Hana was a musical actress! So they will be points on singing and related to those. I’ll probably share more about her if I have the chance. As per usual, recommend to read this while listening to this song! Happy reading! /o/

“I’m sorry to say this, but you’re not worthy to act here anymore.”

What-

“That’s what you call acting? A 5-year old could do better than that.”

Wait-

“You have a beautiful singing voice but sadly, that doesn’t match your acting.”

I can do better this time-

“We’re sorry to say this, but we have decided to let you go.”

Just give me another chance!-

“I’m sorry, Hana. You’re not worthy to act with us anymore.”

Please! -

“I know this is hard for the both of us but I don’t see you as attractive as you were in stage.”

PLEASE!-

“We hope someone else can take you in.”

I CAN DO BETTER!

Eyes wide open after realizing my screams had woken me. Heavy pantings, hands reaching out to the unknown, sweats trickling, the same thing again. Again, that same traumatic dream. Again, that same scene playing in repeat like a broken record. Again, alone in my room with scrambled thoughts in my head. Again, those nights have come to haunt me. Honestly speaking, I haven’t had these dreams for so long after coming to Veludo Way and thought it would last. But I guess hoping was a little too soon. Incapable of going back to sleep, I head out to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of chamomile tea would ease me a little.

And just when I thought I was alone in this room, a single ahoge hair bopped near the kitchen counter. “I can see you, Masumi!” I softly exclaimed. “You don’t have to hide behind the counter there. You can come out now.” Slowly the little stalker boy came out of his hiding spot and scratched the back of his neck with tints of red on his cheeks, “I’m so happy that kantoku knows where I am, my heart can’t stop pounding fast. Is this how destiny feels like?“ Like a high school girl in love (even though he is), listening to him spouting all the cheezy lines was a normal routine, between me and Masumi, of course. Even though the two of us were alone in the kitchen, I would expect Masumi to be excited about it but instead, a confused expression plastered on his face. “Kantoku, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you up at this hour?“ Stunned by his question, I tried my best to act normal, not wanting to show my weakness. “well, I couldn’t sleep so I was just gonna make some tea, is all.”

“Can I drink with you?“

“But it’s just chamomile tea.“

“I want it too.“

Whenever I opposed, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So might as well make one for him too. Even though he seemed like he doesn’t like the taste, he did took a few sips to ‘impress me’. Looking at his act did gave me a chuckle, but the sudden silence and awkwardness made me anxious for some reason. Cupping the warm mug tight to calm myself, a small warm hand covered my hands. Masumi, who had been watching my act, gave a pouty look and asked, “Kantoku, you don’t look good. Is everything okay?“

“Eh? Oh no! I’m perfectly fine!“

“The tea did something to you, has it?“ He eyed on the mug.

“No, it’s not the tea. In fact, the tea calms me.“

I can tell Masumi is jealous of the tea, as per usual. “Then, is there something wrong?“

“No, nothing’s wrong.“

“Kantoku, you don’t have to hide about it.“

Now, that surprised me. Does he somehow know what I’m going through? Does my face look that obvious? I looked away, not saying a word. “You had a bad dream, did you?“

“H-How did you know that?“

“It was a guess. It’s true then?“

“W-What? No, I don’t get nightmares haha. In fact, I just had a very nice dream.“

“Was I in it?“

“.....No.“ He pouted, but ushered me to continue.

“Well, I was acting on stage after a long time. Man, it felt so long since I last acted. You guys do know I used to be a musical actress, right? We did sang and danced, poured our hearts and efforts in that play. It was fun.“ Fun enough to dream about it. Would have wished that it would come true but I know it won’t happened. “But what made you stopped acting?“

Looking at the boy with my eyes widened, that question should have been expected to stab me any moment and yet, I would rather not talk about it. What if those nightmares will come haunt me again and never go away? At that moment, Masumi slowly placed his hand on the back of my head and gently pushed onto his shoulder. For someone who’s a little shorter than me, my neck didn’t craned much to meet his height. “It’s gonna be okay, kantoku. I won’t judge. Everyone has their own fears to hide from, but I don’t want to see you hurt because of it.” His words touched my heart, as if the wounds had sewed with it. “Take your time, kantoku. I’m here for you.“

I may have heard those words a million times before, but this time, it did calm me a little. His words did gave me the comfort I need. For all the days I have struggled alone, I wasn’t expecting myself in the need of someone to lend an ear about my nightmares. I thought people would thought suffered from a nightmare is unprofessional so I just kept it shut. But not from this boy. Almost like he sensed my need of help deep inside my heart. Almost like he can tell I was trying to look strong and cheerful in front of others just to hide it. This boy... How is he doing it? Taking few deep breathes, I finally decided to open up. About my fears, about the nightmare I had, about the reason why I stopped acting. Once in awhile I looked at his way, he nodded and sometimes stroked my head, accepting my rants and stories into account. Yeah. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all. Maybe not all people would judge the things you experience in life, and that reliefs me to know.

After pouring all the rants, I sighed in relief, feeling like my heart is now empty from all the guilt and fears inside me. I lifted my head up and faced Masumi, “You know, I never thought I would lash out everything to someone like you, and yet you listened thoroughly from start to end. I appreciated, Masumi. Thank you.“ Despite being in the darkness with only the moonlight’s support, I could see the red tints of blushes on his cheeks. “Ah, I got complimented by kantoku. Did my manliness support captured your heart?“ I sighed. Well it is to be expected coming from Masumi but I instead gave him a smile, the gentle kind of smile as gratitude. “Ah, look at the time. We both better get back to sleep for tomorrow’s practice.“ I picked up both of our mugs to wash it up and was about to head back to my room when,

“Kantoku!“ I stopped my tracks. “Before that, could I ask you for one thing?“ I tilted my head and give it some thought. Well, he did helped me out so willingly so I guess giving him some help would be my way of gratitude. “Sure. What’s up?“

“Can you sing for me?“

“EH?!“

“I only heard you act in musicals but I haven’t heard you sing. I wanna hear it.“

“But Masumi... Maybe some other time with the others?“

“No. I wanna hear it first before the others.“

I sighed again. Oh well, I’ll give a shot. Clearing my throat, I tried to remember the few lines of the songs I sang in past musicals and started singing. It’s a softer tone of the song since well, we’re standing in the middle of the night and I REALLY don’t wanna wake the others, especially the tiger. After ending my song, I looked over at Masumi, witnessing a teenage boy completely shocked with his mouth opened.

“Kantoku... That’s...“ His facial expression changed to the teenage boy in love I know of. “That was... beautiful.“ I laughed embarrassingly. “I wanna hear more of it.“ “OKAY, THAT’S IT FOR TONIGHT. GOOD NIGHT, MASUMI!“ I hurriedly went back to my room and flopped myself to bed. And before I knew it, I was already fast asleep and no nightmares come taunting me ever since. Really, I thank you, Masumi.

#A3!#Act! Addict! Actors!#A3! week #Masumi Usui #My OC #Ngl it's been awhile since I last write something so here yall go!!#THOUGH!!!!!!!!#I have another one similar to this BUT with Sakyo so stay tune uwu #Eunhwa writes

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taromilkmagic · 5 years

Text

Notes: Cursed Child NY 27 November 2019

My first time watching CC was in Melbourne during previews, and I had an amazing time. A few months later I absorbed myself in the cc fandom here and on twitter and I became more and more obsessed with the incredible casts and crew that are a part of this amazing production all over the world. So yesterday, I finally treated myself to a second viewing of HPCC, but this time with NY Cast 2. I was taking frantic notes in between parts because I wanted to unpack and reflect over it, but when I first saw the play I wasn’t as absorbed into the fandom, so there may be things that are obvious that I’m finding new. Anyway if you’re interested in reading my thoughts on this cast/performance and how I found it different to Melbourne I’ve dumped a rant below...

Part One

Act 1

Nick Albus looking at his family and smiling, so excitedly, when they are about to enter platform 9 3/4, is everything I need in my life. But it really is heartbreaking to watching Albus’s progression from excited and hopeful to isolated and resentful.

Everyone in the background at the station is captivated by Matt Ron’s trick. This time around, I noticed that they are all incredibly grossed out when Ron plucks Lily’s ‘nose’ from his behind (accompanied by a loud fart noise), simultaneously leaning away from the Potters and Granger-Weasleys. It’s these little extra details that really lift the comedy in the show for me.

Bubba Scorpius is anxious and tense, but in a quiet/soft way. While I remember Will having very frantic nervous energy, Bubba is much more reserved and closed in on himself—both emotionally, but also physically. He is permanently hunched over and withdrawn, and his movements are smaller—not as wild— and stiffer than Will McKenna’s (James Snyder does a good approximation of this in the Polyjuice scene). When Scorpius is being sorted, he clenches and unclenches his hands. Then, when the sorting hat declares SLYTHERIN! he slowly closes his eyes. Rather than going ‘oh, as expected!’ like Will does with his head tilt and eye-roll, Bubba Scorp seems a combination of relieved and resigned.

As a sidenote, Bubba was staring emptily in my direction at the start of third year while taking to Albus. So I was a crying mess, but I also felt extremely uncomfortable because it felt like he was looking directly at me with his sad eyes 😂

Something that struck me about Nadia’s and Jenny’s Rose and Hermione: the similarities in how they carry themselves and the way they speak. They both radiate fast-paced Type A energy and you can tell that Rose is every bit like Hermione by her brisk mannerisms and alert eyes.

Jenny’s Hermione has a mischievous streak that isn’t as obvious in Paula’s drier, authoritative Hermione (disclaimer: I love them both). In Harry’s office, the toffee line is sung in an enticing tone. Tof-fee? Translation: Are you sure you don’t want one? Apparently, Jenny was quieter than usual during this performance, but I have to say that I didn’t notice this at all. As my first introduction to her Hermione she was both vibrant and funny.

Nick Albus and Bubba Scorp are much more tactile than Will and Sean (at least compared to when I saw the Melbourne cast in previews). Some moments that stood out — Nick touches Bubba’s shoulders and back a LOT, including on the train at the start of their third year, and then at the start of fourth year when he escapes Rose’s efforts to (re) befriend him and plunges into Scorpius’ train compartment.

Another instance of cute Bubba-Nick Scorbusness in the visit to St Oswald’s. Scorpius stands directly behind Albus, turned toward the audience and away from Amos, for most of the conversation. He flinches away several times when Amos is talking, essentially sheltering behind Albus. Have I talked enough about how Bubba’s Scorpius really is adorably awkward? When Albus earnestly assures Amos that they know about the danger they’re about to embark on, Scorpius leans in to Albus and says “Do weee?” Albus turns around, and Scorpius immediately spins around and peers at the wall details—he even squeaks Oh LoOk!! (*in small twitter font). Overall, Bubba Scorp feels vulnerable—more vulnerable than Will!Scorp, who is a bit of a drama queen at times—and must be protected at all costs.

Right before drinking his Polyjuice, Bubba did his trademark forehead shzzzzap, and it was art.

Act 2

When Albus and Scorpius decide that Delphi should not travel back to the first task with them, and Delphi is storming off after kissing Albus, Sara and Bubba do that thing where they both almost run into each other and block each other, then feint/dodge in the same direction as each other twice. Bubba Scorp says “OHkay!” in an exasperated voice before going around her. It was an incredibly awkward and funny moment and you could feel the tension between Scorpius and Delphi.

The Edge of the Forest scene was beautiful, as always. I didn’t notice this but at stage-door Nick told me that he stuttered and struggled to say “Look-L-look its-look it’s Hogwarts.” And then he said that Bubba was side-eyeing him like >_> the whole time. Bubba definitely seems like the sort of person who would passive-aggressively judge you at your worst moments, but I love him anyway.

Interestingly, the lighting is different here compared to the Melbourne production. The theatre is lit up with soft golden lights which make it sort of look like golden hour, casting everything in a comforting glow. In the Princess theatre, they go for a more literal Hogwarts-through-the-trees, with gorgeous dappled shadows on vibrant blue and orange stained glass windows. Both of these work wonderfully.

In Dragons, James Romney’s Slytherin student being in the wrong House section and having to squish through everyone was very funny. Kevin Reyes as [Craig Bowker Sr?] was doing something funny in the crowd during the first task as well but I can’t remember it for the life of me sadly. But it made me realise how amazing and constantly on point every single member of the cast is, even when the spotlight isn’t on them. Sitting in row D was a massive change from being in the balcony in Melbourne, and it made me realise and appreciate the actors who are carrying out their own stories in the background.

Nick’s Albus looks both a little put out and surprised when Hogwarts’ audience has a mixed response to Harry in the first task.

Interestingly, James Brown III’s Bane is more human than horse here than Melbourne Bane (MelBane?), who would neigh and snort every few sentences. The only horse noise he makes is a loud snort as he backed away into the shadows.

Albus was having nightmares in the hospital wing during Harry’s conversation with Dumbledore. Several times, he mumbles “Dad?” in his sleep as he tosses and turns. It’s actually kind of heartbreaking.

James Synder and Nick Podany both pretend to eat the chocolate. The chocolate itself is fake and a Lie. I just thought everyone should know that.

There is a noticeable difference between Paula’s Hermione and Jenny’s Hermione in the first AU, particularly the DADA classroom. Jenny is much more aggressive and explosive, getting in Ravenclaw girl’s face with a loud nOOO??!!? Her soft, dangerously cold voice was terrifying and a different take to Paula’s terse, irritated, authoritative tone. This AU Hermione seems angry and vindictive, rather than just disillusioned and bitter. In Melbourne, Paula presented her AU Hermione as a possible version of the same person—someone who could grow more and more unhappy with the world over the years. Jenny’s AU Hermione was different; her energy simply felt so wrong and at odds with her usual character, and I think this performance emphasised how unnatural and completely off the new timeline itself is. It definitely made me empathise with how shocked and bewildered Albus would have been, and it reminded me of my experience reading the script for the first time as it gradually dawned on me how messed up the timeline had actually become.

Staircase Ballet in New York made me just as emotional as it did in Melbourne. I don’t think that scene will ever get old for me. Bubba did some incredible face-acting that I was glad to be able to see from my seat. His Scorpius really looks completely broken and despondent as he stares downwards and then, later, at Albus.

Sara’s Delphi is soft (wait what?? I know...) when she speaks to Scorpius about him and Albus. Madeleine Jones had more of a “silly billy, of course you should just talk to him, he’s your best friend!!” big sister vibe when I saw her in Melbourne—gentle, but talking down a little bit (still in a friendly way). This Delphi is much softer, which only makes the reveal more shocking and upsetting when she later reveals her real motives.

Bubba Scorp blowing Polly Chapman a kiss twice in a row to distract her from Delphi under his cloak was so LOUD and breathy and cringe that I may have died from second-hand embarrassment.

The library confrontation! Incredible! @lumoshyperion observed something about Melbourne’s Louis!Scorp in her (incredibly detailed and poetic) review/recap, where he falters and holds himself back at the end of each sentence or phrase during the library confrontation. This was definitely true of Bubba as well! He would sort of trail off and fade away as he spoke, rather than crescendoing continuously to a shout.

When McGonagall came into the library and the two boys were hiding, Nick SKIDDED across the stage and FELL flat on his face, knocking a chair over. It looked really painful and I was like 😶. I asked him about this at SD after, and he said he was okay but that he and Bubba immediately started laughing while they were hiding under the invisibility cloak. After McGonagall left, Bubba casually put the chair back up right before he sat down.

The two boys were both vigorously wiping their eyes during the library confrontation. When Nick hugged Bubba, Bubba made a 😬 and stuck his arms out straight.

When Draco said “The girls’ bathroom on the third floo...ooorwhat on earth would they be doing there.......”, it was so ridiculously deadpan and disappointed and exasperated all at once. I haven’t written many notes on him but Jonno truly is an amazing Draco.

Being from a close seat this time, I was able to see the second task. It definitely didn’t look like a projection this time and that made it feel much more dynamic and engaging.

Bubba Scorp gets immediately self-conscious after the “Consider me engorg-impressed” joke and steps quickly back from Albus and the sink (where he was casually leaning), wrapping his robes around him tightly.

Lauren Myrtle was hilarious as I assume is usual. Lauren’s Myrtle did that thing where she poked at Harry with her foot with every word she said. He flinched back every time, it was hilarious. Diane did a full flinch and staggered back four feet from Myrtle’s hISSSS.

Lauren looked upside down—DIRECTLY at Albus—when she said the “....and BOYS” line, and Albus immediately started fidgeting with his hair, with his hands behind his head. HE KNOWS THAT SHE KNOWS. In general, Lauren’s Myrtle was just as hilarious as Gillian, although a lot growlier. There was, as there was in Melbourne, a large round of applause as the second task began, presumably for Myrtle!

I realise I have zero notes about any of the 'adult’ characters but they are just all-around excellence anyway so there’s not that much to say. Matt Mueller is a fantastic Ron, but very different to Gyton. He’s just as cheesy and cheerful, but not as jolly and laidback (if that makes sense...it’s a little hard to describe). Diane Davis as Ginny is Soft™, and very clearly understanding and caring. It’s easy to see that Harry depends on her as a source of advice, wisdom and emotional support. She generally doesn’t “roar” like Lucy Goleby’s Ginny does, so when she shouts it tends to come out in one angry punch—i.e. “My son is missing!” “SO is MINE!” (as opposed to SO!!! IS!!! MINE!!!!). As for James Snyder’s Harry, his anger and frustration in the alternate timeline is scarily believable, and it’s upsetting to see how it affects Albus and Ginny. It made me think of Angery Harry in Order of the Phoenix (I’m not @ing the people who say Cursed Child Harry is OOC, but...maybe I am). His American accent popped in a few times, but I barely noticed it and he was such an incredible Harry that I did not care in the slightest. The woman next to me was marvelling at how much he resembled Daniel Radcliffe, but to me this wasn’t even a fraction of why he felt like an authentic and well portrayed Harry.

Part Two

I have much less notes for Part 2. Part of this is because I was too much of a weepy mess being swept up by the art of Bubba and Nick’s Scorbus and part of it is because my phone died. I hope you enjoy what I DO have though!

Act 3

After being assigned this investigation, I can report that I am pretty sure I saw Bubba drool (?????) in the Dark AU office scene and I don’t know why or how or what... I didn’t even know this was a thing that happened on the daily but yes, yes it did. If anyone can provide more information on this... And yes, Bubba did look amazing in the Dark AU outfit. Thank you for the warning. I was still unprepared.

Spinella Snape was great! He has the deep voice down, and the dryness was Dry. Something interesting that happened in the Snape classroom scene is after he opens the secret passage in the chalkboard, Snape takes Scorp by the shoulders and gently guides him toward it. It’s a surprisingly protective and ~mentorly~ action and it reminded me a little of Snape getting in front of the Golden Trio in the PoA movie. ~Obviously~, Snape is a terrible person. But I guess he’s also capable of looking out for others! Stephen Spinella did an incredible job at actually endearing his character to me.

Ron fumbling with the wand for ages before pointing it at Scorp in the Dark AU. Unlike Gyton (and the script), Matt didn’t point it at himself this time. But he fumbled with his jacket a ridiculous amount before finding his wand and it got a lot of laughs, including from me!

Bubba was so out of breath after getting out of the pool that he had to take a long pause between the first “Harry!!!!” And “HARRRYYY POTTERRRR!”

Fiona Reid’s Petunia, in the graveyard scene, was visibly emotional. You could hear her voice getting choked up as she thought about Lily. I didn’t pick this up the first time I watched the show, but here I got it and I even teared up a little.

The jump scare GOT ME.

During the Slytherin Dorm scene, Bubba Scorp leaned over the top of Albus’ bed and yelled directly over his face to wake him up. This was both hilarious and adorable. And Malfoy the Unanxious: this whole scene was pure gold. Bubba doing weird hip-swaying dances in the air on tippy toes. Bubba waving his hands in weird and wild gesticulations (a contrast accentuated by how stiff and closed up he was prior to this). Aaah. He must be protected at all costs.

Bubba said the ‘It’s time that time turning became a thing of the past” line very solemnly, and leaning in very close to Albus’s face (!) rather than standing (sitting?) next to him and gesturing proudly, which is what I remember from Melbourne. It’s an interesting take and a more serious one. It’s also more Scorbusy, so I’m not complaining.

When Harry and Ginny and Draco walk in on Ron and Hermione kissing, Diane Ginny said OH! really loudly and, without a pause in her stride, immediately circled around and started to leave 😂

Jonno Draco acted so disgruntled when Specialis Revelio didn’t work. It was hilarious how grumpy he sounded when he said it was worth a try

Sara’s Delphini was much more menacing than I remember from Melbourne. I think what Madeleine did great in Melbourne is make Delphini seem like Ralph Fiennes’s Voldemort — powerful, ambitious, confident, a little bit dramatic. She DECLARED her lines: it was very Shakespearean. Sara was more sneaky and sinister. You get a sense of how she easily tricked Albus and Scorpius. Also, when she was mocking Albus for being naive, she did the little leg-kick dance that she did when she was saying he was becoming quite some wizard. I don’t remember if this is something that always happens with her or with other casts, but this is the first time I was paying close enough attention to notice it and I got CHILLS at the return. Sara’s Delphini is just that sinister and bone-chillingly terrifying.

Act 4

I have a lot of Feelings about Part 4, but not many details, sadly. Mostly because I was too absorbed by the incredible acting by everyone on stage.

James Snyder jumped around a lot when he said “Clever boy left me a message!” and it was such a pure and adorable move compared to his previous Angst that the audience laughed and cheered.

Jonno was wiping his eyes a LOT in the scene in Harry’s office. Several times, as Draco spoke about Astoria and her death, he got so choked up that he had to pause and take a breath before going on. It was a teary scene for all involved and a great testament to Jonno’s acting ability.

Since we’re on Jonno, his delivery of “Look at the thatched roofs.......and......is that a farmer’s market?” SENT ME. He genuinely sounded kind of intrigued, interested and hopeful. I guess Joward Draco isn’t the only one who loves a good farmer’s market.

When Draco and Scorpius hugged in Godric’s Hollow, they hugged for a long time. He held onto Scorpius for a long time after, repeatedly craning his neck to be closer and holding him close as if afraid to let go again. Throughout subsequent scenes, Jonno kept his hand firmly on Bubba’s arm/inner elbow. You can see how shaken Draco was at losing Scorpius, and how fiercely protective he is now that he has his son back.

When Nick hugged Diane from her side, sitting on the bench in St Jerome’s, he knocked her down a little and she said oH! as she lost her balance. It was such a spontaneous moment and showcased the bond between Albus and his mum.

In the second to last scene, and perhaps most importantly in this entire recap...When Nick Albus says: “You better ask Rose if that’s the right thing to do!” (in response to “this new version of us”), Bubba keeps his hands firmly gripped on Nick’s arms, and stares at his face for a full three seconds before going “oh-ahaha...yeah!” and laughing awkwardly. Then, when he goes off and the stairs start spinning to bring Nick into the Nice Day scene, Nick keeps his head facing to the side where Bubba had exited—Albus’ gaze lingering distantly on Scorpius. Not saying Scorbus is canon (I really am), but Bubba Scorp’s last scene presented him as a very believable Confused Bisexual.

Finally: Nick and James rushing into a hug right as the lights went down.

“We almost broke like four times” — Nicholas Podany, 2019, on his scenes with Bubba. We are so blessed to have them.

#ccsquad #harry potter and the cursed child #cursed child #cursedchildnyc #albus potter #scorpius malfoy #scorbus #nick podany #bubba weiler #jonno roberts #draco the penguin #nadia brown #cursed child review #broadway #jenny jules

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amwritingmeta · 5 years

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JiB10

So, last year, for various reasons, I didn’t actually put down my experience of JiB, but are y’all ready to hear all about this year’s experiences and adventures?

Well, in condensed form. I mean, what is this - LiveJournal? (okay yeah kinda is but no not going into excruciating detail here just the best bits) (the choice cuts, as it were) (watch me go full butcher) (it’ll be entertaining I swear) :P

So, firstly, I’m a panel rat. I fucking love those panels. All the panels. It’s mainly why I get the Angel Pass, because the seats are so good and I’m all about them good seats, yeah?

I have friends who spend a whole lot of time in line for ops or for autos and I just… can’t… do that. Not when there’s talking happening and answering of questions and just that room being MAGIC, because the entire con feels so inclusive and filled with open-minded like-minded human beings who share in our love of this glorious show.

I started a JiB Log, but figured I’d get too distracted to actually update it regularly, because that’s what last year was like. When you’re not in a panel you’re either walking to grab something quick to eat (have to commend the little smoothie place at the airport, because they did good sandwiches and really good coffee at a reasonable price) or you’re heading to the hotel bar to get absolutely plast-… No, actually didn’t do that this year, so correction: or you’re heading to the hotel bar to see who’s there and catch up with people who have been to their ops and are still shaking with excitement.

(you can also comment on the wonderful imagination of strangers in the ladies’ room when you see them shaking with excitement and are dressed up in bridal gowns) (okay there was one lovely dressed up as a bride so maybe plural is the wrong way to go but the sentiment holds true) (JiBers - you are so fucking awesome and I LOVE YOU ALL)

Okay, so wanna know the most basic things I’ve learned about how to JiB? I mean… if you don’t, then stop reading, I guess, because imma tell ya. #fairwarning

Bring Snacks (you won’t regret it)

Bring Alcohol (you won’t regret it)

Good Footwear (you won’t regret it)

Clothes For Every Occasion (you may regret it if you overpack) (don’t overpack) (Google “packing tutorial by Jensen Ackles”) (worth it)

Choose Wisely (just general solid advice) (I mean, get your priorities straight) (panel rat or up close and personal kitty cat) (or both) (sidenote: I take it choosing to be both is quite stressful) (make sure that your stress sensors are up and that you don’t overdo it) (switching between rat and cat is bound to be internally messy) (okay that actually came out as not haha solid but actual solid advice so yeah) (be prepared that doing both is difficult!) (and having lots of ops and wanting to do all autos means probably missing a whole lot of panels for standing in line and waiting) (even the solo panels with the main players or - and I will question your sanity - the joint panels that close the weekend) (well not the very final panel) (nobody missed the J2M panel because all ops and autos had closed by then) (but yes prioritise wisely)

Be Open (because, no matter what, you are bound to meet someone you click with at this event) (most people) (actually every stranger I gave a throwaway comment to) (were so chill and happy to have a brief chat or share a moment with me) (so even if you’re traveling by yourself you are bound to feel embraced) *jazz hands rome magic*

Pinches of Salt (take everything you see and hear with healthy pinches of salt) (I briefly forgot about this on Monday morning and oh boy I could’ve saved myself a world of stupidity if I’d only remembered it yeah?)

MNC (get your sweet ass to the Monday Night Concert because both my years of JiBing it has been mind-blowing) (this year was better than last year honestly) (which I did not think could happen) (they are the bee’s bees and the bear’s bear) *throws all the love at them*

When it comes to impressions and memories made this particular trip, I feel like the whole week has been one long run of blessings. Sincerely, it’s been - oh what’s the word again? --> MAGIC.

I’m not going to go through all the boring personal moments of Holy Fuck *jazz hands rome magic* but I will just say that I think I stepped out of passport control with the widest smile, and it barely left my face for the entire weekend. The panels were wonderful this year. I’m still on a high. No, seriously. It’s almost a week later and I haven’t been hit by the JiB blues yet, and perhaps I won’t this year.

*prays I land a pass for next year* *GAH* *the nail-biting begins*

Confession time? (…when in Rome)

Confession 1 — I have such a crush on Rob. I mean, I’ve had it for years, but time to make it official, I guess. He just seems like the sweetest, loveliest human being and watching him sing is like… watching the stars light in the sky. He is such an amazing singer and performer. He made me cry. He sang Fare Thee Well and he made me cry at the Monday Night Concert.

*no I was NOT drunk* *though damn that G&T was strong* *oh btw the drinks in Rome are amazing and worth the money because extra alcoholic* *like damnnnnn* *just as an aside* *but also bring your own bourboun* *winks at @waywardliliana* *sup gurl?* *winks again* *winks some more* *can’t stop now* *licks lips* *yeah I know* *uncomfortable?* *licks lipssss againnnnn* *okay stopping now* *….or am I…….?*

Confession 2 — The panel-watching truly is a huge amount of fun. This year there were a lot of things said that made me want to jump up and down in my seat, because it gives me a lot of hope for season fifteen and Jensen provided most of it on the Saturday, and then Jared was pretty much agreeing with Jensen’s assessments of how the brothers’ journeys should end on the Sunday, and I was like GAH! *happy* And then Misha throws in his belief that there needs to be a sacrifice and tragedy and we all went NO! Also his fear that this family of ours will disperse and we all went NOOO! :) Anyway, these are all stated observations, but the confession is this:

As much as I love spending time in a space that is occupied by some of my favourite human beings on this planet (oh but they are), what makes JiB so truly, deeply, personally special is meeting up with friends who otherwise live too far away to see on the regular. All of us convening in this one place to share in this one great love is like electricity through your veins. It’s like… well, it’s like going to a place of worship, and I think you know what I mean. When you’re in a room with a group of peope who’s energy jives with yours, then your energies align, and resonate, and then — MAGIC.

It’s magical. It’s fucking magical. *jazz hands*

Shoutout to everyone I managed to see this year who have not yet been lip-licked at in this post (or real life), whether it was much too brief (so many of you were much too brief) or whether we spent quality time, seeing you all really made the trip sparkle:

@captainhaterade - who made such a fantastic and impromptu seat mate - thank you, Emily, for having me next to you for most of the weekend! :D

@eriquin - Meghan, it was so lovely to meet you and I’m thrilled you and Emily both enjoyed your first con, very happy I got to be a part of it! :)

@trickster-angel - my dear Chiara, it took us a few tries, but we finally got to sit down in the Corner (if you get to go next year then I think this may be where we’re all just convene from now on) (*suggestion*) *nobody puts us in a corner except us!* :P So good to meet you!

@inacatastrophicmind - Mara! We met much, much too briefly, but I’m so, so glad we did! See you around tumblr, my friend, and hopefully at JiB11! :)

@misskittyspuffy - aw man, Aurelie, we kept missing each other and I really wanted to sit down and have a proper lunch or dinner, but at least you and--

@assbuttboyfriends - hey, Claire, my dear, at least you and Aurelie aren’t that far away, right? Come visit me in London, I tell ya! :D Otherwise, proper plan-making for next year. xx

@bold-sartorial-statement - a brief hello was still a good hello! Hope you enjoyed the con! xx

@jenmdixon - it was good to say hello to you, my dear, and really hope you enjoyed the con (and didn’t die under those lights because it got HOT) (no wonder the actors are fan-addicts) :) xx

@purgatory-jar - Elena, it was, as ever, fantastic to see you and I’m stoked I got to have a proper lunch with you this time around. You have always been and will always be one of my absolute favourite artists in this fandom and, by extension, anywhere. Already a star, girl!

Shoutout to @northern-sparrow - I was sorry that I missed you at the bar, but there’s always next year. Hope you enjoyed the con and thanks for asking The Perfect Question. :D xx

Finally, @godshipsit -- Alessia, my friend, you are this calm, welcoming, very dear part of Rome and JiB for me (last year you supported me so much just by being there) and you are simply brilliant! *all the prettiest flowers at your door*

And to my two felines who are tumblring, but not very often: Laura and Steph, you wonderfuls! Thanks for all the laughs!!

*I now proceed to throw love at you all*

Confession 3 — I have a Favourite Moose. Nope, it’s not who you think it is. (girl, I almost put the hashtag on here but in the current climate) (I think I’d just better not) (especially since I wanna tag you) (hey, Moose!) (hey @natmoose!) (yes you!) (Nat-Blue!) :) #theconversationalists

Now, the highlights from this years con are too numerous for me to write them all down, really, but here’s a taster:

Ricky Whittle (the man is a genius comedian)

Rob talking about how his fandom experience has changed since he, for the first time, is seeing comments like “I hate your face” (the way he says “I hate your face”) (*giggle*) (also it’s such a question of tone because most of those “I hate your face”s are probably said with loads of love) (because Chuck going ultimate big bad toxic masculinity representative is fucking BRILLIANT) *love to hate his face*

Matt telling the airplane story

Alex reenacting different parts of the airplane story

Alex choosing Jasmine from Aladdin to put a spin on and making the twist that he’ll rob the wishes from Aladdin like -->

Alex: *sings* I can show you the world *interrupts* I’m just like yo, just give me these wishes. Don’t mess with me. How about this? I’ll show myself the world, okay?

I really, really very much like Alexander Calvert, okay?

Briana being distracted by herself on the stage monitor (she’s gorgeous and she knows it and is also open about how it costs her a lot of money and time and effort and how that’s not for everyone and real beauty runs so much deeper) (which is why she is the most gorgeous woman)

Jared telling us all to shut up during his Sunday morning solo panel (and basically all of his time on stage, but especially this half an hour of stage time, because my GOD he was in such a good mood)

Misha

Jensen going off on a minor rant about Game of Thrones S08E05 because yesssss

Jared doing that jump-and-a-skip at his panel with Misha

Jared’s panel with Misha

Jensen telling Misha he loves him and them hugging, only for Jensen to turn it into a joke and pretty effectively demonstrating how this is how they interact and they don’t mean anything by taking the piss out of each other because yesssss

sincerely, all the solo panels (especially Jensen’s, because he’s so sincere and open and honest about how seriously he takes his work and it’s gorgeous and inspiring and always has been and always will be and)

I mean, Jensen lying flat on his back on that stage and Misha saying You Sexy Bitch is very, very, very… overt. I side-eye. But with a whole lot of appreciation for the balls on those two. I’d venture that they know exactly what they’re doing, and I’ll forever wonder what the percentage is between performative and spur-of-the-moment. Sometimes I think you can tell, but… oh, they know what we like. Usually. :)

Jared bringing the dirty. I just love his filthy mind.

All of their filthy minds tbh.

Singing Carry On My Wayward Son in the hallway after the final panel is just… one of the best parts, and this year they all came out and high fived and gave hugs and… it was special

The Monday Night Concert surpassed last year’s and went on for nearly two hours and was deeply moving for many reasons and I wish to the good Heavens (…okay you know what I mean) that Jensen and Briana will record Shallow because I think their version beat the original (damn Briana’s voice is just… damn!) (and I can’t talk about Jensen singing please don’t make me talk about it) (…) (thank you)

Also Richard Speight Jr because Richard Speight Jr!!

Also just Jason Manns because Jason Manns!!

And The Four Cheese!!

See, there’s just tOO MuCH STuFF

And now it’s over and I’m still hopped up on the adrenaline and the happiness and Jensen talking about spreading happiness (I believe it was either during the opening panel with he and Jared on the Saturday or his solo panel later that afternoon) made me feel light as a feather, because he’s right. A healthy dose of real happiness builds you up from the inside out and makes you believe you’re worth it. All of it, yeah? And that, whatever comes your way, you can handle it. Oh, it can be a struggle, but if you only dare to be open, then good things, my peeps.

Good things do happen.

I hope to see you next year!!

#JiB10 #my stuff #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #misha collins #alexander calvert #briana buckmaster #rob benedict #richard speight jr #jason manns #ricky whittle #jibcon #rome magic #<3

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mskinkyafro · 5 years

Text

Blurred Lines (Ethan x MC)

A/N: This is my take on Miami with our man. From Ethan’s perspective and there’s a few references from my previous fics but its not necessary to read those before this. I was originally wanting to post this before the chapter aired but life happened and a week later here it is. I took some dialogue from the chapter and placed it in here but not much. This also uses Ella Mai’s close near the end. I wasn’t originally gonna use a song in this but the story kept shifting but it’s a great song that reminds me of these two. But overall I hope you all enjoy my version of Ch. 10. This fic grew way longer than originally thought but oh well lol.

Summary: Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Michaels start to crossover into new territory during the Miami conference.

All Rights to PB and Ella Mai for her song “Close”

Sidenote: Song Lyrics are italicized

Word Count: 3,996 words.

Tagged: @sharrybh20 @ifyouseekheart @perriewinklenerdie @radlovedreamer @siegrrun @flyawayboo @gabbisaur

Sorry if I forgot anyone else, but iIf anyone else wants to be tagged just let me know!

Ethan Ramsey stood in a secluded corner of the atrium as he watched the interns scrambled to the leaderboards. He’d learn his lesson over the last few weeks of attempting to post the rankings in their sights. The amount of times he was almost ran over or harassed by the young doctors was wearing down his already thin patience. This time he decided to post it earlier to avoid the savages.

Usually he would carry on with his patients after each week’s posting or spend some time checking on his mentor and looking over his case, but on this occasion he couldn’t help but stay just to catch a glimpse of Katrina when she looks at the ranks. Out of the sea of interns he could make out a young doctor flinging her arms around Katrina in excitement and hear brief exclaims of congratulations. He notices the young African-American woman taken aback by the news but quickly a fierce look of pride washes over her as she talks amongst the few lingering colleagues who wish to extend kind pleasantries.

He smiles to himself as he watches Katrina’s grin. Despite growing closer the last few weeks Ethan was unsure how he felt about Dr. Michaels. It was clear to himself he trusted, admired, and respected her even though more times than others she’s a pain in his ass. And on the other hand, residing deep inside was his raw attraction for the young resident. He catches himself staring at her when she’s unaware or if talking to her how his eyes tend drift to her round, pouty lips. Ever since his daydream about Dr. Michaels, to their conversation in his home, and the last weeks of closely working together on his secret case he’s noticed there’s a difference.

Ethan would never willingly admit to himself that he may have became enamored with the young doctor. No, he keeps those dangerous thoughts regarding Katrina in the forgotten depths of his mind. He has far to many other important things to focus on. He soon notices that he’s no longer alone in his little corner. A familiar perfumed scent hits his nose and without turning he addresses the figure.

“Chief Emery, what can I do for you?”

“Now Ethan, must you always be so formal. ”

Ethan rolls his eyes and turns to face Chief Emery. He can tell by the way she said his name she wanted something. Before, he always folded but as of late her attempts of being his emotional puppeteer has had no effects.

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood Harper nor do I have the time so let’s keep this short, yes?”

She’s momentarily taken aback but brushes off her initial surprise.

“Yes, you definitely seemed...” Her eyes move to land on Katrina.

“...preoccupied at the moment.

Ethan follows her gaze and his eyebrows furrowed as he sees where it lands, annoyed at the subtle insinuations.

“Ahem, what exactly did you need?”

She turns back to look at Ethan and hands him papers and continues to speak as he looks over what she’s handed him.

“This actually. You’re going to Florida. Well, Miami specifically and accompanied by Dr. Michaels to a medical conference. You both will be surrounded by other accomplished doctors from the best hospitals all over the country, so make sure to mingle and represent Edenbrook well.”

She turns to walk away from him but he cuts her path off.

“Wait, why must I go and bring along an intern for that matter. Isn’t the schmoozing apart of your job description?”

“Actual my job description is to assign who I want to schmooze, if not myself. Second, as a way to mix things up in the competition I decided to throw in an exclusive reward. Thus, attending a prestigious medical conference with the accomplished Dr. Ethan Ramsey.”

“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you Harper?”

“No, no of course not.”

Ethan takes a step back as he realizes Harper attempting to cup his cheek. Her hand falls back to her side.

“But at least your company is someone you’ve taken a ...liking too, from my understanding.” her tone was polite but Ethan noticed a small hint of hidden meaning in between her words and an unfamiliar glint in her eyes.

“Now Harper, I-”

Ethan was interrupted by the buzzing of Harper’s pager.

“Duty calls. Dr. Ramsey, this is final.”

She walks away without another word down the west corridor. Ethan shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. Unable to argue anymore he makes his way to the center of the atrium towards Dr. Michaels who’s still surrounded by her roommates and a few straggling interns.

“Rookie. I see you saw the news.”

He sees her turn toward him as a hush fell amongst the other young doctors as he finds himself standing a few spaces of chest to chest with Dr. Michaels.

“Yes I did Dr. Ramsey. Are you here to congratulate me?”

“For not killing your patients? No.”

He noticed a flicker of sadness in her eyes and the way her smile fell. He mentally kicks himself.

“However…”

Katrina eyes grow more hopeful.

“...you’ve yet to let me down, Rookie.” he let his eyes soften as he finished speaking. Ethan felt his heart skip a beat as Katrina’s annoying yet radiant smile grew wide.

“And I don’t plan to anytime soon, sir.”

“Good.”

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before a cough from others interrupted the moment.

“Ahem, anyway Rookie. Pack your bags tonight. You’re accompanying me to Florida this weekend for a conference as reward for ranking first this week.”

“What?! Really?!” she said in disbelief.

Ethan ignores the many audible gasps, groans of disappointment, and bitter mumbles.

“I’m not repeating myself, Rookie. Send me your address so I can pick you up, our flight leaves at 7:00 am tomorrow morning.”

And with that Ethan walked away and head towards his office.

Time seemed to fly for the next morning arrived and Ethan found himself immensely irritated. He rubs his face in exhaustion and frustration. He hopes that their flight would end soon because he was unsure how much longer he could take before he might lose it. First, the flight was delayed by two hours, then he realized the tickets were economy not first class, so himself and Dr. Michaels were huddled with the other passengers like cattle, and thirdly a infant seems to have been crying non-stop since the departure.

He knows how little of an impatient man he is so at the moment all he could do was suffer in his seat and try not to succumb to his building temper as his companion managed to sleep during the entire trainwreck of a flight. As he was steaming in his seat he felt a pressure land on his shoulder. He turned and looking down on his right shoulder he saw a messy clump of afro hair and soft snoring from Katrina. Seeing Dr. Michaels sleep so soundlessly and how peaceful her features were made most of his bitterness melt at the sight. He didn’t know why but just one look at her and he felt calm. Just for a minute he thought maybe this flight isn’t all bad.

Soon enough the overhead speakers came alive to alert the passengers that in a few minutes they will arrive at their destination soon. The sound of the seat belt sign chiming cause Katrina stir from her slumber and she slowly open her eyes as she adjusted to her surrounding. Her eyes land on Ethan and she immediately bolts upright, bumping her elbow in her neighbor who shoots Katrina a nasty glare.

“Sorry sir.”

The man beside her let out a grunt and continued to read his newspaper. Concern at the lack of warmth from his shoulder and for the way Katrina woke up he gently laid his hand on her shoulder.

“Everything okay Rookie?”

“Oh, umm yes Dr. Ramsey. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was-”

“Relax Dr. Michaels. I’ve had worse things happen to me on economy flight. Being your pillow is not one of them.”

She smirks towards him.

“Is that so? So you’re saying I can specifically request you as my pillow?”

“No.”

“Hmm. I don’t believe you.”

“Do I look like the type to lie.”

“Of course not sir but I feel like you’ll give in.”

“And what makes you think that I’ll cater to your wishes, Dr. Michaels?”

She lifts a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Ethan as a smirk that rivals the cheshire cat graced her face.

“I can be very persuasive.” Ethan feels goosebumps form as he feels the ghostly trace of her fingertips brush his hand reaching to the seat pocket in front of her. In his head he’s trying to decipher if that was a coincidence or something orchestrated by the young doctor.

Reeling from the simplest of touch, Ethan stayed quiet for the moment before he readied himself with a retort but interrupted by the woman beside him.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

He couldn’t help but smile at her and shake his head.

“I agree that your growing ego is unbecoming, Rookie.”

She giggles at him and then turns to look out the window hoping to not disturb the man beside her while Ethan kept his gaze fixed on her. Trying to process how he’ll survive this weekend.

A hour passes after landing in Miami and Ethan and Katrina arrive at the hotel and make their way to the front desk.

“Yes how may I help you?”

“We have a reservation for two double rooms under Ramsey.”

“Alrighty let’s take a look.”

The woman behind the desk types on her keyboard before her face scrunches up.

“I’m sorry sir, but it seems there was a mix up and all the double rooms are booked for the weekend.”

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration and lets out a gruff sigh a Katrina tries to reason with the concierge.

“I’m sorry but that’s unacceptable. What other rooms are available?”

“Well ma’am, once more I’m terribly sorry for the mix up. We have one room available, the honeymoon suite, which we’re willing to give to you and your husband for free as condolences for the booking conflict.”

Ethan looked up from his previous position and noticed the faint blush that graced Dr. Michaels face at the woman’s assumption. He saw Katrina about to correct the employee but his mouth spoke without warning.

“We’ll accept it, Thank you.” he nods curtly as he collects the key cards and heads to the elevator, leaving behind a stunned Katrina.

She manages to catch up to his long strides as he enters the elevator and presses the bottom to the penthouse level. The door closes and there’s a small silence between the two. Ethan can tell she’s dying to question him so he speaks first.

“You’re allowed to talk, rookie.”

“Umm are you sure you’re comfortable with sharing a room, Dr. Ramsey?”

“They are no other rooms and we’re probably unable to get double rooms at any other hotel in the ten mile radius, I gathered we might as well enjoy an unexpected upgrade even if it’s due to moronic behavior.”

The elevator halts and the doors open and Ethan steps out and strides down the long hallway followed by Katrina and arriving in front of the last door of the corridor.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He opens the door and holds it open for her to enter.

“Are you uncomfortable sharing close quarters?”

Katrina enters and was about to respond but was distracted by the glamour of the suite. He follows behind her and watches as her eyes lit up with astonishment at the room. Ethan’s relieved that she’s preoccupied by their room to question him any further. His rational, safe-playing side is chastising him for accepting this arrangement but his other side took the lead at that moment. He didn't have a true reason for saying yes other than wanting another occasion to be close to Dr. Michaels

“Okay, one. This room is gorgeous. I mean, this view of the beach is breathtaking! Two, I may be distracted currently but that doesn’t mean I didn’t noticed that you answered my question with a question.”

Katrina done inspecting the suite moves to gently set her suitcase down as Ethan stands a few feet beside her placing his own down.

“If I didn’t know any better rookie, I’d say you’re scared to be alone with me.”

Ethan can feel Katrina’s hot gaze look him up and down and hear her sly grin as she spoke.

“Oh, I’m not the one that should be afraid.”

He feels a flush grow in his neck at her words.

“And I noticed you didn’t correct the concierge when she assumed we were husband and wife.”

“People are always going to assume. Why waste my breath to change what they others think?”

He hopes she doesn’t see through his thin excuse.

“Wise words Dr. Ramsey. So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” she smiles as sits on the edge of the king size bed.”

Ethan pulls out a folder filled with documents from his bag and sits at on the loveseat in the room and places it on the coffee table in front of him.

“The conference doesn’t start til tomorrow so for the rest of the day-

“I can soak up some Miami sun!” Katrina interrupts.

“Yes, I suppose so while I stay in to look over some files.

“Dr. Ramsey you’re going to work when…” Katrina hops off the bed and saunters to the glass door of the balcony and gestures to the scenic view of the beach below them.

“...this is out our window.”

He moves to take out his glasses from his pocket and places over his eyes and doesn’t bother glancing out the balcony.

“My job never ceases, Katrina.”

Ethan begins to read the documents when the papers are pushed away from. He looks up at Katrina with an annoyed expression on his face.

“You work so hard as it is back home. You need to relax, Dr. Ramsey. Come along with me. I promise I’m loads of fun.” She said as she threw him a wink.

Ethan reaches to center his work in front of him once more.

“Tempting, but I have to decline.”

“Suit yourself.”

Katrina turns away from him to dig into her suitcase and grabs a few items before she heads to the bathroom

Ethan soon becomes engross for a few minutes and doesn’t tear his attention away even as the door of the bathroom opens and Katrina’s light footsteps approach.

“So is their a curfew I should be aware of?”

“Well-” Ethan’s words die at his lips as he looks away from his work and takes in the sight before him. Katrina stands in front of him wearing a scandalous yellow triangle bikini that makes her coffee-hue skin glisten and shows off curvy figure. The revealing fabric hugged in all the right places, her thick hips, thighs, and shows off her double D sized breasts. He realizes he’s been staring for too long and finally speaks, his voice slightly cracked.

“Ahem, urm...you’re not confined to a time frame but keep in mind we have a long and early day ahead of us so I advise not too late.”

“Gotcha.” she turns to a nearby chair and slips on her see-through yellow wrap skirt. She walks over to the body length mirror to check herself out and fluffs out her frizzy fro and heads to exit the room. She pauses and calls out to him over her shoulder

“You sure don’t want to tag along, Dr. Ramsey?” she asks one more time. Ethan can tell her tone is innocent enough but in her hazel eyes he sees hope and a tiny bit of mischief in. He tries to focus on her face and not her perfectly round ass that’s barely covered in the cloth she calls a swimsuit.

“Well, we are in Miami. I suppose these documents can wait” he flashes a rare smile.

“That’s more like it sir!”

“Please Katrina, Ethan outside of work?

“Sorry Ethan.”

He smiles small and heads to his bag then the bathroom to change. He steps out in just his swim trunks and slips on some sandals. He notices Katrina’s eyes roam his bare chest before landing back to his eyes. He smirks at her and then walks to open the door to start their afternoon.

They spent the rest of the day and early evening basking the Miami sun. Walking on the shore, smiling and laughing discussing their lives before Edenbrook. Soon night fell and they found themselves back at the hotel outside bar nursing several scotches on rocks, sitting elbow length from another.

“So that’s really all there is to know about me. I switched from the west coast to the east coast. I haven’t visited in a while but I have an older brother and niece who live in LA. It’s difficult to visit sometimes because he’s a busy detective and my niece Chelsea is heavily involve in school especially now she’s entering her senior year.”

Katrina says as she sips from her drink.

“Do you miss it?” He asks.

“Sometimes. I miss craziness of LA or just driving to the beach and surfing in the hot summer days. But being here at Edenbrook, I have a new love, helping my patients.”

Ethan couldn’t help but stare as she said this. It was rare to find another doctor who truly wanted make a difference. More and more he got to know Katrina he couldn’t help but fall more.

He nods and finishes his drink. As he sets his glass down music begins to play and the other people outside begin to grab their partners and dance. He sees Katrina’s face light up in recognition and downs the rest of her drink and excitedly hops of her stool and fumbles slightly. From the alcohol or just the sudden movement, Ethan was unsure but had inkling it was both.

“I love this song! Ethan, dance with me.”

He looks around nervously. Looking for any doctors that could be in range.

“I don’t think so. I’m not one for dancing.”

A pouty look forms on Katrina’s face and in that moment Ethan just wanted to kiss her then and there.

“Please, for me.” She reaches to pull him off his seat.

He decide to throw caution in the wind and followed Katrina to the makeshift dance floor.

They find themselves in the center surrounded by other couples dancing to the sensual music. Katrina wraps her arms around his neck and presses herself closely to Ethan’s body. He places his hands on her hips and his eyes bore to hers as the sway to the music. He feels intoxicated by her citrus perfume.

I don't even really care who knows it

Just keep me there, keep me in the moment

Seen a lot of things, but I never seen my spirit glowin'

The way you do me got me outta body

Cause you the only out of everybody

Who gon' go out of the way to show me all the ways

Come control the flame

I just wanna stay right here with you

Katrina then turns so her ass is pressed against Ethan’s groin and grabs his arms so that they wrap around her as they continue to sway to the music. Ethan groans quietly to himself and tries hard not to become too excited. Being so close to her felt so good but he can’t help but question this. He knows he’s a little tipsy and he’s sure she is after the amount of rounds they had.

“Katrina…”

“Kat. Call me Kat.”

Ethan moves on of his hands to trail up her arm to her neck and push some of her fro out the way and his hot breath lingers on her neck as he whispers in her ear

“What are you doing to me.”

Let the water flow

Just let it fall out from my face

Cause I never thought I'd ever hear me say

I just can't breathe without my baby

Ooh, you my baby

Ethan can feel her shiver at his words and she turns back around and place her hands over his exposed chest. Her fingers tracing his skin. She stands on her tip toes and leans up as her hands bring his face closer to hers and whispers

“Only whatever it is you do to me.”

So come and kiss up on me

As we dance close

Come and kiss up on me slow

Ethan tightens his hold on Kat and stops their movements all the while others around them keep dancing.

“Kat.” His hand tangles in her hair and his eyes roam her face and he sees desire and longing.

“Ethan.”

Ethan closes his eyes as he feels her plump lips graze over his. He moves his mouth to respond briefly as he savors the moment but the fading sound of the music sobers him up and reminds him on where he is.

He reluctantly untangles himself from Katrina and holds her hands.

“Kat...Katrina. We can’t do this.”

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with confusion.

“Why? Do you not feel…”

“No of course not. I want this so bad, but not enough to jeopardize your career and reputation. ”

“No one has to know. It’ll be our secret.”

“We’d know. Plus I can’t push you to be the best doctor you can be if I…”

He pauses and lets go of her hands and adds space between themselves.

“If you…”

He shakes his head at her.

“Let’s call it a night. We’re both tipsy and have an early morning.”

He stalks toward their room feeling he disappointed gaze on him. They make it back to their suite and both quickly change into night clothes, Ethan in his pajama pants and no shirt and Katrina pops out of the bathroom in an over-sized T-shirt that covers her torso but shows off her legs and her hair wrapped in her silk bonnet. Even in the simplest clothing he finds her so beautiful and he’s kicking himself for cutting off what could’ve happen but he reminds himself its for the best. He speaks first.

“I can take the couch and you can have the bed, Rookie.”

“Ethan, we’re both adults we can share a bed. I promise no funny business.”

“Rookie…”

Katrina cuts him off

“No. Right now I’m Kat and your Ethan. No Rookie, no Dr. anything. We have all day tomorrow for that. Let’s give ourselves this moment right now before going back to reality. Please, Ethan.”

He sighs and gets inside the left side of the bed and gestures for Katrina to get in as well. She turns off the lights and gets in on the right side. They lay down facing each other, eye to eye. Their breathing grows soft and faint. Katrina closes her eyes first and flips so her back faces Ethan.

“Good night, Ethan.” She whispers.

He’s still facing her and longs to hold her but ultimately shuts his eyes.

“Goodnight Kat.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes when he feels rustling in the bed and warmth closer to him. He opens his eyes and notices Kat moved in her sleep. He would scoot over more but he’d be in the edge of the bed and he didn’t want to risk waking her up to move her over so he just pressed closer toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist and lay his face near the crook of her neck. He knew he was well over the boundaries he attempting to draw but Ethan decided give not only himself but both of them this moment.

#choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC #dr ethan ramsey #open heart choices

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