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mccn-bcys · 2 years ago

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JUST A TOUCH OF YOUR HAND — PT. 2

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: you and marc have been going out for a few weeks and he decides to tell you about his alters and his past, which leads to the introduction of steven grant. and after a few more weeks of being together, the boys have a question for you.

warnings: some more marc angst, ranting steven fluff, soulmate au, DID (in this steven explains DID, I know it's not all correct but I'm basing my knowledge off the show), Spanish (I'm not a native speaker, so please correct me if it's wrong), the boys bickering a little, jake (that's it, that's the warning)

author’s note: I'm not sure how I feel about this part, might have to come back and spend some more time with steven, but for now, this is part two! I really hope you guys enjoy this part! I always appreciate feedback! Taglist is at the end, I tried tagging everyone but I don't think they all worked, so I apologize! If you'd like to be added, please let me know!! As always please like and reblog!!

word count: 4.7K

before marc can think, he's already been on a few dates with you. jake's pretty sure he's in love with you, steven is absolutely enamored, and marc? marc likes you more than he should. more than he wants to. he wants to call it off before he can get hurt, but he can't tell you no.

but by date four, you have a right to know. at least the basics. he needs to tell you about jake and steven.

and so he does. he sits you down and tells you about his alters and his dissociative identity disorder and before he can stop himself, he's telling you about khonshu. he doesn't get into all the details, just that he's got a deal with him and that he is a 'protector of the travelors of the night'.

and you... you seem to be taking it very well. you haven't gotten up and left. you haven't called him crazy and ran. you're sitting there, just listening intently, letting him say what he has to say.

"so...there's two other people living inside you?" you ask after a moment of silence, trying to make sense of all of it.

"yes, in a sense. we all have the same body, we're just very different people. their names are steven grant and jake lockley. i know that's a lot to take in and I totally understand if you—"

"can I meet them?"

he pauses. he wasn't expecting that. he's nodding before he knows it.

"I'm sure one of them will try to front soon. they've been dying to meet you. especially jake," marc chuckled lightly.

"really?" you asked excitedly.

"yes, of course," marc said like it was obvious. you continued to astound him. you hadn't ran off yet, you even wanted to meet his alters. you were so kind, so accepting. it made him want to cry. he didn't deserve you.

he looked like he was about to speak again but then he tensed up for a moment. worry over took you. oh god, what happened? did you say something wrong?

"hello, love," a gentle voice spoke in an accent. you looked at 'marc', eyebrows raised at him. this voice sounded so kind, so gentle, so... adoring.

even marc's eyes were different now. they were soft. he was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing on the planet.

"sorry, I hope I didn't give you a fright," he said, seeing your worried face as you looked him over. your mind was trying to figure out what was happening. it looked like marc, a more gentle marc but still the same man.

but his accent was different. it wasn't the Chicago accent you had gotten used to. no this one sounded native to london. very distinctly different.

"I'm steven," he introduced himself, and that's when it clicked. this was one of his alters.

it was amazing. how it was the same body in front of you, yet you could physically tell a different man was sitting in front of you.

steven wasn't as tense as marc. his shoulders were slouched slightly, they were free of the tension that marc usually carried. his facial features were more relaxed. but stevens hands were constantly moving. whether his fingers were rubbing against each other or his hands rubbed up and down his thighs — an action you had to force yourself not to watch. eventually he settled on just fiddling with a loose string on his sleeve. like he was nervous. his eyes took you in, and you could see something in his gaze. curiosity, admiration, awe.

"hi steven," you said softly, your voice and gaze matching the emotions his held. you introduced yourself, holding your hand out to politely shake his. his gaze drifted to your hand, then to your wrist which held the black stain from his — well, marc's — touch all those weeks ago.

"may i?" he asked gently, referring to your wrist. you, of course, nodded, just taking the time to study him, curious as to how his mind worked. he had wanted to feel it for himself. he knew the shock was strong, as it had alarmed both steven and jake that day that marc had fronted, but steven wanted to feel it, to really feel it himself.

he gently grabbed your hand, like he was afraid you'd shatter if he dropped you. you watched as he slowly brought his knuckles and just lightly brushed your wrist, causing a strong, yet enjoyable shock throughout both of you.

yet, the moment didn't last long. you two had smiled at each other until something drew his eyes to the window behind you.

"steven, what are you doing? you're going to scare them off. just let me have the body back," marc said sternly from the reflection of the glass.

"mate, have a bit of trust in me. I've got this," he bit back, accidentally saying it out loud instead of in his head, causing his eyes to flicker to you, as jake even stepped into the reflection, all three boys waiting to see your reaction.

you had glanced at the window behind you, only seeing the street outside, before turning to look back at him. but you didn't look at him like he was crazy, much to the boys confusion. no your eyes held patience, a bit of curiosity, but you weren't demanding him to tell you what the hell he was doing. your eyes silently telling him that he didn't have to explain anything.

all three boys felt like they could cry. you were turning out to be just like how jake dreamed. marc was sure you were just that: a dream.

"sorry, I was talking to marc," he breathed out an explanation, afraid he'd actually scare you now.

"you guys can talk through the windows?" you asked, intrigue lacing your tone. you had even leaned forward a bit. your eyes had lit up like it was the most fascinating thing someone had told you.

"well, most reflective surfaces. though they aren't necessary, they certainly help. especially when one of us wants to front. we can usually just talk to each other without reflections though, it's sort of like...thinking?" he tried explaining, a little fueled by your interest. and you were taking it in, processing the information, a natural smile on your lips.

"so you can see them in the reflections as if they were really standing there?" you wanted to learn all you could about them. marc had seemed hesitant to tell you, but steven seemed more than happy to explain it.

"yeah, actually. I don't see a reflection of myself if they're there. they can stand there, move around from surface to surface, see what I see," he went on.

"'if they're there?' what do you mean? are they not always in the reflections?"

"not always. sometimes when one of us is fronting, the others can rest, in a sense, kind of like sleeping? or just watch and listen through our head space. that's how jake went undetected from marc and myself for so long," your eyes furrowed in confusion.

"did you not know jake was there?" you asked. surely if there was another presence in in your head, your body, you'd know, right?

"not for a long time. he wouldn't front often. when he was fronting, he'd push us far enough back that we couldn't tell what was happening. and then when he was done, he'd pull us back up. and if he was conscious, he stayed far enough back that we couldn't detect him," you had wanted to learn more, but you noticed he had started playing with the string again. you reached your hand across to gently grab his and hold it in yours.

marc hadn't been too keen on touching, like he was afraid of hurting you. but steven let you. it was like he craved it but hadn't wanted to ask for it. he watched as you just held his rough hand in your soft one, reveling in the feel of it.

"what about you?" you had asked, eyes drifting back up to meet his.

"what about me?"

"tell me about you. I want to know about steven grant," you smiled at him as you said his name. now steven knew what marc had meant when he said he'd never loved the sound of his name until you said it.

"with a v," he said before he could stop himself. at your furrowed eyebrows he continued, "it's steven. with a v," he said laughing dryly at himself. you laughed lightly, another one of his new favorite sounds.

"steven with a v, I like it," oh lord his heart was going to burst. "what else should I know about you?"

"I'm a gift–shoppist. I work at a gift shop at the museum. I'd like to be a tour guide, but I think donna is determined to not let me."

"donna?"

"my boss. I don't think she likes me very much. calls me stevie all the time," he grimaced as he flipped your hands so that he was the one holding yours, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. "she makes me stay late to do inventory most nights, even if it's not my night." it was obvious to you that he didn't care for his boss.

"why do you stay then?"

"because then I still get to be by the Egyptian exhibit. I figure if I can't be a tour guide, I can at least work in the gift shop and still be near it all," he admitted.

"you must really like to egypt," you commented with a soft smile, already able to tell he had a passion for it.

and you were right. he immediate perked up, like he'd been waiting all day to talk about it but had been waiting for the right time, a light behind his eyes. the man in front of you had never been more attractive. he hasn't even spoke yet, but just his reaction was enough to tell you that this? this is something he truly cared about.

"like it? I love it! marc and jake get annoyed with how much I talk about it or the amount of egyptology books in our flat. but it's so interesting: their way of life. sometimes it seems like they were more advanced that we are here in the present. a lot of the things we have in the present are all thanks to the egyptians, like the toothbrush, writing, makeup, calenders, and even sundials!" he immediately started ranting and you swore you started falling right then and there. the passion in his voice. he spoke like this was his reason for living. the thing that kept him going.

it was fascinating to listen to. had it been anyone else you might not have cared, but something about the joy in his voice and the light shining in his eye, made you listen intently, wanting to absorb every detail about it. he'd even gotten so excited, his hands stopped fidgeting. his hands left yours — their absence now leaving you hands feeling cold, empty — and he was using them as he spoke, making grand gestures, using them to aid his story.

after a few moments of rambling — and the grumbles inside his head — he stopped and looked to you. you had been quiet for a while. you noticed how he immediately started closing in on himself, his shoulders hunching over again, his hands going back to their nervous fiddling.

"sorry, have I bored you?" he asked shyly.

"not at all. in fact, i think i was listening more to you than i did in any of my classes in school," you were quick to assure him, a gentle smile on your face. "never doubt what you know, steven. and never let others make you feel bad for the things you have a passion for," you advised with a smile.

marc and jake were now feeling awful for teasing steven about his egyptology passions. you seemed to admire his knowledge while others thought it was obsessive or not important.

steven couldn't ask for a better soulmate.

"beside knowledge is power, not to mention, it's insanely attractive," you winked at him and he was sure his heart stopped.

his cheeks flared up at the compliment. he wanted to return it, to tell you how beautiful you were. how he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you as his soulmate.

"I also have some goldfish," is what came out instead, causing all three of them to internally groan.

"steven, buddy, what the hell?"

"ay, hermano, we have got to work on your flirting," jake face-palmed.

but even that didn't seem to deter you. instead, your smile grew even more. you couldn't help how endearing steven was.

maybe that was one of the things that pulled you to him. he didn't try too hard to impress you. he was being himself, even if he was stumbling through it. he was awkward and clumsy, but he was very smart and charming and better with his words than he seemed to realize.

"what're their names?" you asked, curious about it, but also hoping to ease his nerves if you just went with it.

"well there's gus the second, then guy, and jake has decided to name his pez," he answered with a roll of his eyes at the name of the last fish. "marc and jake aren't very creative when it comes to naming things," he loudly whispered, like it was a secret he was letting you in on, which caused you to laugh.

it was now their life mission to make you laugh as much as possible. they all were addicted to the sound.

"that's actually kind of funny, naming him fish," oh now jake was over the moon because you got his name joke. "wait, so you all have a fish?"

"one for each of us. I had originally only had gus, but then he died, so marc got me another one, and I called him gus the second. after meeting marc and finally getting along with him, we got him a goldfish. and then jake came along and so we got him one as well," he informed you, a gentle smile on his face.

"so that way they don't have to be alone like you guys aren't alone?" you asked insightfully.

the boys had never thought about that. they had really just got three to make it fair. but in a way, you were right. the fish don't have to be alone anymore, and neither did they. steven has marc and jake, just like how gus the second has guy and pez.

they were all speechless at the realization.

"yea, I suppose so," steven said, astonished that you had been able to realize that. "wow, marc said you were smart, but I think you're even smarter than us," he admitted causing you to laugh again.

"I don't know about that. you know a lot more about Egypt than I do," you countered.

"alright, well then maybe I'm more book smart and you're more wise?" he offered.

"I can get behind that," you grinned.

of all of the things steven had ever imagined, you were better than anyone he could have dreamed of. he had never met someone who was so accepting of his weird knowledge or awkward persona. you didn't seem to mind it. in fact, it seemed like it drew you in more to him and that alone blew his mind.

"I think she's even better than the rom-com," jake commented.

and steven couldn't disagree. you truly were.

a few more weeks had gone by and most of that time was spent with steven. you hadn't seen much of marc, and you had yet to meet jake.

not that you minded, you adored steven. he was one of the sweetest and caring people you'd ever met. he was thoughtful and considerate. he'd bring you flowers everytime you guys would see each other, no matter the occasion.

he'd taken you to the museum, sneaked you in after hours and took you on a private tour, allowing him to share more of his knowledge and you got to listen and admire him as he spoke. he'd constantly make sure that you weren't bored or ask if you wanted to stop but you were quick to assure him that you wanted him to keep going and that you wanted to learn more.

although, after a while, you couldn't help but feel like marc was avoiding you. you never saw him anymore, he'd hardly text and when he did his replies were always short. it honestly had you worried. had you done something wrong?

what you didn't know was that marc was avoiding you. something steven and jake constantly got onto him for.

"mate, they're worried about you. you should talk to them, let them know what's going on," steven told his reflection in mirror as he tidied up his flat. you were supposed to come over later that evening for dinner.

"I don't know, steven," was all marc said in response, before leaving the mirror.

marc could see how happy steven made you. everytime you saw him, your face lit up. and marc wanted you to be happy so he let steven go on more dates with you. except now marc was convinced you only needed steven.

he didn't think he deserved you or your smile or your laugh. marc wasn't the type to bring flowers or chocolates or museum dates. and you seemed to really like that stuff. so he left it to steven, who was a professional. you always seemed happiest with steven.

and marc understood why. steven was open and communicated how he was feeling. he'd tell you whatever you asked. he'd make you laugh without trying. steven was soft and warm.

marc was closed off. he bottled things up and didn't like to talk about his feelings. marc didn't always talk about the things you asked him about, scared to get too personal. marc was hard and cold.

and steven and jake had told him otherwise. constantly. steven would often remind him how he took care of steven while he was still unaware of him. jake reminded him how accepting he was when jake finally showed himself. they would tell him all the time how kind he truly was and how you wouldn't care about his past or how he truly did deserve you.

but there was no changing his mind.

you were supposed to be there any minute, and each of the boys was antsy. steven kept stress cleaning the flat, despite it being spotless. they were nervous. extremely. each of them was freaking out for different reasons so they really weren't helping each other.

"i don't understand why you two are freaking out, it's not like you're fronting for this," steven said, reorganizing the pile of books on his desk again. he did understand, he just was trying to keep from having a panic attack and his alters weren't helping at all.

"really, steven? this doesn't just affect you," marc snapped from his pacing in the fish tank reflection.

"she's never even met me, pendejo! how much did we really think this through?" jake asked, from the window reflection.

"we all talked about it. it was your idea jake!" steven said in response.

"obviously I didn't think it through before I said it!"

ok that was it. steven was rarely the one to raise his voice, especially at his alters but this was ridiculous.

"alright," he started, his hands hitting the desk to get their attention. the two snapped their attention to him, their worries falling silent. marc and jake exchanged a look before looking back at steven. "we love her, right?"

"que clase de pregunta es esa?" jakes eyes narrowed.

"steven, what does that—"

"answer the damn question," he stood firm.

"of course we do."

"sí, por supuesto!"

"okay then," steven said, his voice calm and soothing. "we love her. a lot. it's only been a few months, but we wouldn't have even considered it, if we weren't ready. and I think she's ready too."

"you don't think it's too—"

"no its not too fast. I understand you're scared, marc. but if she was going to run for hills, I think she would've done it by now. she loves you, and cares about you, and worries about you," the alter seemed to relax a little. "she loves you marc, you can't keep avoiding her. you were the first one of us to meet her and get to know her, and she got to know you, love you first. she doesn't love one of us more than the other." he told marc. marc looked down, knowing that steven was right.

"and you," steven turned to jake. "no she hasn't met you yet, but I know she loves you too. she's always asking about you, making sure you're okay, asking what things you like...she lights up at the sound of your name. if you're worried she's not going to care for you as much as she does us, you're wrong. she doesn't care about who you used to be, about the blood on our hands, she still loves you and wants to meet you and be with us."

jake simply nodded. steven was right. as usual. if you were scared or disgusted by them, you would've left already. maybe that's what scared them all the most. you've stayed, despite it all.

steven was going to continue, but there was a knock at the door that interrupted him, causing all of them to look at the door. you were here. steven swallowed the lump in his throat and headed for the door.

when he opened it, all three boys felt their breath leave them. you looked great. you weren't too fancy, it was just a simple dinner at his flat, but you looked great. and you stood with a bouquet of flowers in your hand.

"I heard you talking to someone, am I interrupting?" you asked, causing steven to snap out of his trance.

"no, the boys were being silly, I was talking some sense into them," he chuckled lightly. "come on in, dinner just finished not long ago," he stepped aside to allow you inside.

"it smells delicious," you stepped inside, looking around at how straightened it seemed. probably the cleanest you'd ever seen it. steven must've been worrying all day. you wondered what could've gotten him so worked up. you'd been to his flat before, had dinner here before, hell, you'd even stay the night more times than you can count. you decided not to bring it up right now though.

"it's this vegan recipe I found that I thought we could try," he came up behind you, pressing a kiss to your head before taking your jacket and hanging it up.

"are those flowers?" jake asked from mirror by the door.

"no, those are rocks," marc quipped from beside him.

"escucha, hijo de puta—"

"I brought you guys some flowers," you said, cutting off the fight in stevens head.

"they're very pretty," steven commented, coming back to stand by you. "just like you," he added, making you blush.

"oh hush," you lightly hit his chest, playfully, as he leaned down to lightly peck your lips. "you always buy me flowers, so I thought I'd return the favor. and I got all of your favorite flowers, marcs and jakes too. so they enjoy them too," you showed him, pointing at the flowers that represented their favorite ones.

all three of them were now absolutely certain in this decision now. you not only got them flowers, but you remembered each of their favorite flowers.

"let's find a vase for these," steven said, trying not to melt into the floor right there.

"she got flowers for us?" marc asked, admiring the bouquet as steven found a vase to put them in, touched that you would do that.

"told you she cares about you two just as much," steven thought back with a smile.

as the night went on, the boys nerves heightened and lessened at the same time. heightened because they knew this was a big step in your relationship, especially considering you'd only met 2/3 of them. but as the night went on, you kept proving to them that you guys were ready for this, making them feel more comfortable, without even realizing it.

"oh, don't let me forget," you started after taking a sip of your drink. "I was at the market the other day, and I saw these really nice gloves with little moons on the knuckles, and it made me think of you guys so i bought them," you said, causing steven to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. "because moon knight and mr knight?" you said, hoping to provide more clarity, becoming more confused as to why he was so confused. although, jake was perked right up, eager for you to continue.

"why gloves?" steven said, without thinking. but when your face fell slightly, he was quick to recover. "not that I don't appreciate it, believe me. it warms us when you think of us...but why gloves? we don't wear them," he was just slightly confused and wanted insight into your mind, hopefully without hurting your feelings.

"jake does."

and oh how that set off emotions in jake. you'd never even met him, and yet you were thinking of him when you saw a simple pair of gloves.

"how'd you know that?"

"you were talking about it one time," you explained. "you mentioned a few weeks ago that jake was complaining about his gloves falling apart and he needed a new pair." when he continued to look at you silently, in awe, you felt the need to keep going. "im sorry, I probably should've asked first. he probably already bought new ones. you mentioned that there was something you wanted to ask me?" you were desperate to change the subject, especially since steven still had yet to say something, making you more nervous, your hands twisting in your lap.

what you couldn't see was the chaos happening in their mind.

"steven, let me front."

"is now really the best time?"

"best time? it's the best time. do we really want to wait to see if I chicken out again?"

"but she wasn't expecting you, mate." steven wouldn't lie. he wanted to be selfish, to have this night to himself, make sure everything went to plan.

"hermano? she bought me gloves, she remembered a passing comment you made about me weeks ago, meaning she's been thinking about it, about me."

"so what? she also remembers that I'm vegan—"

"come on, steven. he deserves a moment with her at least."

"steven, please."

"but I was just about to ask—"

"i'll ask!"

"like hell!"

"steven?" your soft voice called out, causing them to all fall silent. you had a nervous expression, anticipating his response.

it all happened when you glanced back at your lap. you didn't see him tense up, didn't see the change in his posture, didn't see the change in his eyes.

"múdate con nosotros."

your head snapped up. had it not been for the change in accent, and the use of spanish, you wouldn't have noticed. but you studied him for a minute. saw the straighter posture, but not as tense as marc. his eyes were wide, but there was a new wildness behind them. a desperation right now hid in there. was this...?

"what?" you asked softly, needing to be certain.

"move in with us," he said again, this time in english. not british, not chicago, but definitely american. this was him.

he almost gave control back to steven. he thought he jumped the gun. great going, lockley. you weren't responding. he'd scared you. but just as he was about to surrender control, he saw you smile wide. the boys were sure you'd never smiled so big. jakes heart stopped beating, having to now experienced it for himself.

"jake lockley," you said so softly, utter joy lacing your voice.

yeah, jake lockley was head over heels.

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#moon knight #jake lockley #moon boys #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #just a touch of your hand #soulmate au #moon knight fluff #moon knight x you #mr knight #mr knight x reader #part two

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jaesqueso · 4 years ago

Text

Busted (m)

pairing: best friends brother!kai x fem!reader

summary: you thought nobody was home until you see something you never imagined you would

word count: 1,455

warnings: mentions of porn and masturbation, oral sex (receiving), fingering, protected sex

a/n: this is basically a re-vamp of something I wrote back in 2013 for aff (so cringe), I initially wrote this as idol!au but I’m not really interested in writing that anymore so I altered it, also changed the smut scenes a bit because yeah they were not very good... anyway, do give me some feedback please! ❤︎

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

Damn were you unlucky at games. You should have never let your roommates trick you into betting to clean the whole apartment for a month if you weren’t able to win this stupid game you’re pretty sure they made up. At the time the cocktails you had assured you it was an easy win but your hangover the next day just called you an idiot for believing it.

Your class ends just before noon and you decide to treat yourself to a nice meal before you go home and start the deed. Your two roommates/traitors/best friends still had classes in the afternoon so since you had the house to yourself you would go ahead and clean before they had the brilliant idea to mock you around for falling into their tricks once again.

As you get home you walk straight to your room to drop your bag. You look around and notice the crazy amount of clothes that desperately need to be washed. You grab a basket you had laying around and put your dirty clothes inside. As you walked to the laundry room you decide to stop by the other rooms to see if your friends also had some clothes to wash.

As you’re about to place your hand on the doorknob of the last room in the corridor you hear a noise coming from inside the room. Did Areum forgot to turn off the stream she spends hours watching on her computer? But then as you step closer it sounds like someone was moaning.

Nobody’s supposed to be home right now, so you try to take a sneak peek inside and you see a man sitting on the chair in front of her computer. You look at the screen and gasp when you realise the person is watching porn! With his hand down his pants! But who the hell is he?

You are so confused you don’t even notice you dropped the basket of clothes on the floor until his head snaps in your direction. You panic and close the door. Was that Areum’s brother? She had mentioned last week that he would be coming to town to spend a few days but you didn’t know he was already here. You pick up the basket and gather the clothes that fell out as quickly as you can as you hear steps inside the room getting closer to the door.

“Y/N?” You hear his voice as you were about to talk away.

“Jongin! I-I didn’t know you were here.” You try to play it cool even if you’re dying from embarrassment.

“Yeah I arrived last night…” You actually went to bed early the day before because of your morning class so it makes sense you hadn’t noticed.

“Cool, cool, cool.” This couldn’t get more awkward so you decide to turn to leave. “Well I’m gonna do some laundry now, see you around-”

“You saw me didn’t you?” He grabs your wrist preventing you to go.

“W-What? I don’t even know what you’re talking about-” I tried to pretend like it was all good but he knew.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. It’s just…” he looks down. “I thought I was alone and it’s been a while since I’ve had some release…”

You widen your eyes at his words. You couldn’t imagine a guy like him not being sexually active. Jongin is smart, he is super nice and friendly, and of course so hot. You might have a little crush on him since the first time he came to visit when Areum moved in. You’d never seen someone as handsome as him. But he was unreachable. First of all he’s done with college and is working in another city miles away, not to mention he’s way out of your league. Oh and of course he’s your best friend’s brother and that seems to be a dangerous line to cross. But then you look down and accidentally glance at the bulge on his pants.

You look back up as he does too and your eyes meet. You feel a heat running through your body when he leans in and places his lips on yours.

“I’m sorry,” he steps away from your mouth, “it’s just that you’re beautiful and I’ve been wanting to do this forever.” Wait, did you hear that right? “Plus I’m so horny right now…”

This time you kiss him. This could be your only chance to be with Jongin and it would be dumb of you not to take it. It had been a while since you had some action yourself and one hand washes the other right? Nobody needs to know. Specially his sister.

He pulls you into the room, never breaking the kiss and pushes into your friends bed, hovering you.

“We don’t have to do this Y/N,” he looked into your eyes looking for permission to keep going, “I can stop-”

“Please don’t Jongin,” you pull him closer “I need you right now.”

You kiss him again running your fingers through his hair. He moves his mouth to your neck while he takes your shirt off. His lips keep going down to the mounds of your breasts as he snakes a hand behind your back to clasp your bra. With that out of his way he attacks one of your nipples making you let go of the moans you were keeping in.

He kept kissing down your body until he reaches your bottoms. He looks up at you and the way you’re biting your lip in anticipation gives him the ahead to remove your pants dragging your drenched panties along.

“You’re already this wet?” He says as he spreads your legs and runs a finger between your lower lips. “I barely even touched you.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been wanting to do this.” You smirk at him.

“Glad to know.” He smirks too as he lowers his head between your legs.

He starts liking your clit and you throw your head back moaning. He adds two fingers inside of you that slid right in lubbed with your juices. He pumps his fingers in and out as he keeps sucking on your clit and you take one of your hands to his hair as the other grabs onto the headboard. He then adds a third finger trying to really stretch you out. You start to wonder how thick he must be for him to be so focused in all that prep.

“Shit, I can’t hold it anymore.” he gets up removing his fingers from you and goes to his wallet that’s on your friends desk.

He throws a condom at the bed, walking back to you and taking off his shirt. You help him get rid of the rest of his clothes and gasp as you see his hardness standing tall and proud. Ok, you definitely needed all that preparation but it will still stretch you out even more once he’s inside you. He takes the condom and rolls it down his length hovering you again.

“I always thought I would take my time once I got a hold of you,” he rubs his dick between your folds, “But seeing you like this, a moaning mess all wet for me, I can’t wait any longer.” He aligns himself at your entrance and slowly pushes in. You grab his shoulders and roll your eyes at the stretch, he’s so thick it feels like he’s gonna rip you apart. “Shit, you feel so good I could cum right now.” He takes a deep breath and hides his face in your neck staying still for a few seconds.

“Please Jongin,” you pull his head to face you, “I need you to move.” You kiss his lips and he kisses back starting to roll his hips into you.

When he sped up his movements you had to break the kiss to moan his name. He kept going deeper inside you with every thrust, getting closer and closer to your sweet spot.

“Right there!” You almost screamed craving your nails on his back. “Oh god, don’t stop.”

Your words just made him go harder and harder chasing his high. He takes one of his hands to your clit wanting you to cum too.

“I’m gonna…” you moan.

“Me too…” he moans back.

And just like that you reach your orgasm clenching around him as he paints the inside of the condom. He leans down and gives you a sloppy kiss.

“Jongin are you watching porn again? I told you not to do this in my room-”

You two try to cover yourselves with the bedsheets as you face a shocked and speechless Areum at the door.

#kai smut #kim jongin smut #exo smut #gimme gimme feedback #thanks for reading

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

Text

They’re Your Ideal Type ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

“So, what was your ideal type?” Jin asked as the two of you sat and reminisced about the early days of your relationship.

You stared innocently across at him, “you really want to hear about it?”

“Of course,” he grinned, “I’ll tell you what my ideal type was if you tell me yours.”

“Honestly,” you sniggered, unable to bring yourself to look at him, “my ideal type was pretty much you. I wanted someone who laughed to laugh, didn’t take themselves to seriously, tall, a good cook, it’s like someone was looking down on me the day I bet you.”

Both of your cheeks turned a dark shade of red as Jin bit down on his lip to stop himself from teasing. “So, I’ve always been perfect in your eyes?”

“Well, I never said that” you joked, covering your cheeks with your hands. “But you were pretty close to perfection when I met you, and now that we’ve spent all these years together. Yeah, I’d say you’re the perfect one for me.”

“I always knew I’d be perfect for someone someday.”

Yoongi:

“What sort of guy are you looking for?” The guy across from you asked, taking a sip from his glass of wine with his eyes on you.

Instantly, you felt your cheeks burn up, “you’ll think I’m an idiot.”

“I won’t,” he assured you, “I’m always interested in what you saw in me that you like.”

“A lot,” you nervously informed him, watching his smile grow. “When I read through your profile on the dating app, there were a lot of things about you that I quite liked. We just seemed to have a lot in common, and physically you’re definitely my kind of guy.”

Your date couldn’t hide his own embarrassment as you sat and boosted his ego. “I’m glad that I could tick so many boxes for you.”

“They’re not easy boxes to fill,” you chuckled, shying away from him. “I’m quite fussy about who I date, I’ve had many dates where they’ve just not been what I thought. But something with you just feels different, I really like it.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, because so do I.”

Hoseok:

“Did you always fancy our Hobi?” You heard his aunt ask you from across the table, taking you slightly by surprise.

Your eyes looked across to Hobi, “of course. He’s my type, for sure.”

“What type is that?” She pushed, beginning to make you uncomfortable.

“He’s funny,” you began, despite Hobi letting you know that you didn’t have to answer. “He makes me laugh, which is the most important thing that makes a guy my type. He’s also incredibly handsome, and super sweet, that’s why he’s my type.”

Hobi’s eyes fell away from you as his cheeks reddened in front of his family. “I only ask because we only want the best for our Hobi.”

“I’ll always give him my best,” you assured her, trying hard to disguise your annoyance. “You don’t have to worry about me hurting him or anything, I’ve waited a long time to find my perfect match, but I think I’ve found it in him.”

“And I’ve definitely found mine in Y/N too.”

Namjoon:

“What do you actually see in Namjoon?” Jungkook teased as you sat to dinner, “he’s definitely punching dating you Y/N.”

Your head shook in response, “I’m definitely the one who is punching here.”

“How?” Jimin laughed in disbelief, “what can someone even find so good in Namjoon.”

“How long do you have?” You quizzed, resting your hand over Namjoon’s. “He’s got an incredibly smart brain, he’s tall, creative, three of the most important things I look for in any guy. That’s the good that I find in Namjoon, and there’s a lot more too.”

Namjoon proudly smiled as you managed to silence the rest of the group. “It’s really so obvious how single and jealous you all are.”

“I’m sure you’ll be the ideal type for someone,” you told them all, looking around the group. “Namjoon will probably sit and wonder what a girl may see in you too. But this one is my type, even if he might not be for the rest of you.”

“He’s very lucky to have someone like you Y/N.”

Jimin:

“Did you always have an eye on me?” Jimin asked, intertwining his hand with yours as you began to settle down to sleep.

Your head nodded gently, “the minute I saw you, you had my full attention.”

“Out of all of them guys?” He asked, “but the club was so busy that night. It’s impossible.”

“I’m being serious,” you answered, curling up into his chest. “I took one look at you and that smile of yours and I knew you were the one. You were just my ideal type, you stood out to me more then anyone else did in the club that night, by far.”

His smile grew, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I thought I’d just spilt my drink or something because you stared at me so much.”

“It was because I liked you,” you laughed, hiding your face in his neck, “I still like you a lot. That’s probably why I knew when I looked at you that I’d have to go over and say hi. I wasn’t going to let someone like you go anywhere.”

“I’m pretty relieved that you didn’t either too.”

Taehyung:

“You’re seriously telling me after all these years, I’ve always been your ideal type?” Taehyung blushed from across the table.

Your head nodded immediately, “it’s not a lie, even in school I fancied you.”

“But I’ve changed so much,” he protested, “has there really never been a point where that stopped?”

“Just because you make a few changes doesn’t stop you from being my ideal type,” you reminded him, “it doesn’t change your personality or your basic looks. Eleven-year-old me fancied you, just as much as I do nowadays too.”

His head shook, feeling his cheeks flush. “I just always imagined that there would be a point where you thought I wasn’t your type.”

“That’s never been the case,” you quickly assured him, “dying your hair or changing up your style doesn’t alter the person that you are, you’re still the Taehyung I fell in love with at school, that will never change.”

“I guess if you love each other, nothing will change that.”

Jungkook:

“Don’t you think tall, dark and handsome is such a stereotype?” Jungkook asked you as you continued to watch the main character in the film.

Your head turned back to look at him, “it’s quite a common type. Why, do you?”

“That’s what your type was, wasn’t it?” He laughed, noticing how defensive you got.

“There’s a reason I’m with you,” you blushed, feeling his arms snake around your waist. “There’s just something about men that have those features that I can’t explain. I bet there’s plenty of girls that would have you written down as their ideal type.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide his smile as you continued to talk. “I never really imagined myself as your ideal type, I didn’t think that was a thing.”

“Neither did I, until I met you,” you responded, feeling his lips rest against your forehead. “It was only when I met you, that I realised I do have a type. You’re tall, dark haired, and you just so happen to be very handsome too.”

“That’s something you can tell me again and again.”

---

Masterlist

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misterewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Mystery at the Salt-Irons

Hey everyone! E here with a new chapter! kept you waiting huh? Haha sorry it's been a busy few weeks. Nothing serious but I had to keep starting and stopping this chapter so it threw me off but it's here, it's ready and I hope you enjoy it!

I have some special guests in this story, some ocs made by my friends because you know what I can so I will and honestly, they were really great oc ideas guys. so keep an eye out for @hains-mae and Biz_fantasist OC(I don’t know if she has a tumblr but it’s late so I’ll edit it later)

That's it for me! I hope you are all stay safe, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, push to give everyone the vaccine cuz this is getting ridiculous. I hope you have a great week, thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate and feel free to share it with your friends, give me feedback. Reblog and comments all that fun stuff! Thanks and I'll see you soon!

Here’s the chapter over at Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/85394095

Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what this is about

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

and here’s a list of all my work both original and the various fandoms I write for

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works

Summary: Finnrick is called to solve a mysterious case as per his job as the city's only Private Investigator wizard but as he sinks deeper into the case, the more it seems that something is happening behind the scenes. Of course with an old friend in town and dark magic surrounding the case, Finnrick is as busy as ever. Ain't no rest for the wicked.

-----

The Salt-Iron Flats weren’t anything special on the surface: An unassuming apartment complex on the north side of Newton Haven, the only thing most people remembered about the place was how the price tag hurt their souls.

Of course, unlike the general housing market, the Salt-Irons (affectionately referred to by the locals) actually had a very reasonable reason for fetching such a high rate: The salt and cold iron baked into every single brick that formed the building.

If you weren’t in the magical know, you’d think it utterly insane that you’d be forced to pay such a large amount of cash because some weirdo decided to make a new age artistic statement with bricks. Of course, if you are aware of the greater community at large, you’d knew you were paying the insanely large sum because someone decided to make the Salt-Irons the single most protective location in the city.

Most mortals have forgotten their history, their lore and collective knowledge passed down throughout the generations: Why their ancestors used to place lines of salt in front of the door and windows, why the elders always suggested to the braver, recklessly youthful family members to carry iron whenever they ventured through the wild.

Outer beings were repelled by salt and iron. No one really had an idea why fae, angels and demons weren’t fond of salt or iron and there's been plenty of arguing about the subject but all in all the fact remained they did not do well when faced with either.

That was the main reason Finnrick didn’t find himself in the north side of town often.

Well that and the zealous Gate Keepers. Those guys were freaks but between them and the Salt-Irons being the only supernatural community up here, Finn never got a case from the area.

Until today.

The Salt-Irons were great at protecting you from any outside threats that wished you ill will: It didn’t protect you from anything you decided to bring in with you.

It was five in the morning when Finnrick got the call. The M.R.R.D representative didn’t have much to offer beyond the address and floor but he thanked her all the same.

Finnrick yawned tiredly, stretching the tension out of his neck while he sipped his coffee. He let out a sigh of relief as the sun slowly rose into the sky.

The Salt-Irons was a twelve story tall building painted a ghastly pale green that made Finnrick sick just looking at it.

“People are paying how much to live in that shade? I’d ask for discount if I were them.” Finnrick laughing to himself, making his way into the apartment complex.

Luckily the interior was much nicer than the outside: Everything was well kept and cleaned. Not a single speck of dust in sight and the wooden stairs didn’t creak when Finnrick placed his foot on them.

Which was good given Finnrick needed to go up seven flights of stairs.

Finnrick wheezed a little, wiping the sweat from his brow when he reached the seventh floor. He glanced down the hall one way then the other as he began to search for room 707 which basic deductive reasoning suggested should be around the corner.

Finnrick crushed the empty foam cup and tucked it into his coat pocket as he made his way to 707. It was a simple wooden door and immaculately spotless just like the rest of the place. He rose his hand and gently rapped on the door.

No response.

He frowned, checking if he was still alone in the empty hallway and rose his hand towards the door frame.

His eyes glowed with a blue energy as he whispered softly “Revelis”

The door gleamed with a bluish hue for a moment before fading away without a trace.

No protective spells laced over the frame so the only thing Finn had to worry about now if it was locked.

He tried the knob, unsurprised when it swung open silently.

“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s expecting you” Finnrick justified to himself as he pushed the door in.

He nearly staggered backwards: The air tasted thick and foul like something had been left rotting inside. His skin prickled with anxiety, a chill running down his spine with each step he took further in.

Finnrick took deep, calming breathes while doing his best to ignore the bitter taste that seem to cling the air within.

He noticed the trail of footsteps, perfectly preserved in what appeared to be black dust leading deeper into the living room.

“Hey da! You here?” Finnrick called out, carefully stepping closer “You and ma still married?”

There was a deep grunt of acknowledgment before a voice responded “Sorry son, we’re divorced now. She got custody of you.”

“Well fuck. I guess I’m going to be eating kale and poorly cooked spinach for the rest of my life.”

Garrus Valka was not in fact Finnrick’s father, adoptive or otherwise. He was actually one of the highest ranked officers of the Magical Rapid Response Department: An elf clocking in at 200 years old with richly tanned skin. His bluish gray hair was slicked back in his preferred style. Garrus’s had his back turned to the detective but Finn knew his sliverish gray eyes were deep in concentration as he took down notes about the surroundings. His beautifully inhuman features were marred with a scar on the right side of his face: burnt skin on his cheek, healed by time and various surgeries. An old war wound though Finn never got the full story.

He was dressed in typical M.R.R.D fashion: Dark blue windbreaker, jeans and a blue shirt with the words “Powered by coffee and spite” splashed across the front. His Winchester rifle was slung across his back, ready for any action that may befall the elf.

“Drift.” Garrus greeted teasingly while offering a hand.

Finnrick gave it a playful shake “Da. So is mom here or she trying to smite pigeons again?”

“THEY TRIED TO STEAL MY HOTDOG!” Garrus’s partner Eden screamed from another room “I SHALL BRING MY GOD’S WRATH UPON THEM!”

“You know when they mean justice.” Finnrick called out “I don’t think they mean against winged rats.”

Eden chuckled darkly “You know not their sins.”

“Okay.” Finnrick nodded despite the fact she couldn’t see him “If you say so. What happened Da? Aside powerful necromancy.”

“Powerful necromancy” Garrus replied cheekily “and missing persons.”

Finnrick rose an eyebrow “Persons? More than one?”

“Two: A father and son. Richard Charles and his son Richard Jr. Recluses it seems. Neighbors hardly saw them. Mostly kept to themselves.”

Finnrick pursed his lips thoughtfully “Any magical abilities?”

“They’re not on records if that’s what you mean.” Garrus answered “Never signed up in the academy, not registered with The Council. If they were practitioners they didn’t tell anyone.”

“So what was the spell? I just smell the remnants of spookiness.”

“Hadn’t noticed the rest of the room huh?”

Finnrick frowned before finally getting a good look at the rest of the room: Every inch of the apartment was blanketed with the same black dust that he found in the entrance way. Inches and inches of the substance and that wasn’t the strangest part.

Everything was bent at different and odd angles: chair with crooked legs, the wall clock warped and twisted, the fridge leaning like someone folded it in half. Floorboard reached for the sky and walls split inward.

There was a common misconception about magic. Most people thought spell casters, especially wizards, could command reality to their wills. That magic was capable of impossible feats and it was as simple as snapping your fingers.

The truth was all magic, ranging from divinity to free range nature, was performed on a micro scale. Practitioners did not alter reality but rather shortcut it. Throwing fireballs was as simple as rapidly heating the air until it combusted. Turning invisible was less about vanishing completely as it was bending the light around you to not be seen. Magic was rooted in reality and imagination. If you had the magical strength to perform the magic, the magic often followed your lead.

Of course there were spells that required much more than magical hand and willpower. Powerful magic, like summoning outer beings or raising an army of zombies, required both time and materials. Magic was like any other energy: you needed enough of it to perform what you wanted. The human body could only generate so much magic without dying and resting was necessary to replace any expended in the use of spells. Materials were guidelines for the spell. Feathers for anything with flight, ash for fireballs etc etc.

The other thing needed was to gather energy and store it for the spell’s use. There were different ways to achieve this: Wands, talismans, potions were basically magic soups. The most efficient way to gather energy was the wizards preferred way: Circles.

Finnrick eyed the room closely this time, murmuring under his breath about angles and trajectory. Garrus paid him no mind, well familiar with the private investigators methods.

“If this went like that” he gestured to the wall clock “and that went here.”

Finnrick glanced about, carefully walking about as if worried he was going to step on a landmine.

“Here.” Finnrick found himself staring at a spot in the middle of the room “Ventus.”

He gestured with a hand and light breeze filled the room. It brushed away some of the dust covering floor, revealing the outline of a half melted metal ring.

“What is it?” Garrus turned curiously

“Spell circle. The source of the explosion. I’m willing to bet it’s custom made. Copper, steel. Maybe some bits of tin couldn’t stand the surge.”

“No iron or sliver?”

Finnrick shook his head “That’s for containing or repelling monsters. Necromancy is more about drawing in the evil entities. Or sucking out life.”

Garrus sighed tiredly “Don’t touch?”

“Only if you want to live to see retirement. Might have some pent up magic ready to blow outwards.”

“Understood. I’ll call in our guys. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

Finn nodded gratefully while pulling out a vial and motioning to the elf “Mind if I do?”

“Be my guest, you might find something we’d miss.”

Finnrick smiled gratefully before scooping up some of the dust and sealing it within the vial.

“Take care Garrus, stop fighting birds Ma!”

“Flying rats!”

-----

The cafe was lively despite being early but that was no surprise given it was Mother’s. Mother’s was the single best food establishment in all Newton Haven and if anyone disagreed, they were allowed to have their opinions.

They were also allowed to be wrong.

Finnrick paused in the doorway, breathing in the scent of well cooked eggs and sweet lemonade. The pop and sizzle of heated grease brought a sense of comfort to the hard working private investigator.

“Finny Drift!” Maddie Copperstone called from behind the counter “How’s my favorite customer holding up?”

Maddie was 40 years young with tastefully curled dark brown hair. Human, little on the short side but fierce. She wore a simple red blouse and jeans, both stained with flour that the apron around her waist did not prevent.

Finnrick bounced over cheerfully, reaching over the counter to give the matron the biggest hug he could muster “I’m good Maddie. Working a case.”

Maddie’s brown eyes searched his face carefully “You always working Finny. You resting as much?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Maddie let out a disbelieving chuckle “You weren’t ever a Scout.”

“Honorary scout after I stopped that bear from eating them.”

“Thought it was a giant raccoon.”

“Yes but people don’t take giant raccoon seriously. He here?”

Maddie clicked her tongue disappointingly but motioned to the booth at the far end of the establishment “Rest.”

Finnrick rose his hand in surrender “After.”

“Never you mean!” Maddie shouted after him.

Amos Frye hadn’t changed much since last he was roaming around Finnrick’s neck of the woods: Handsome with soft gray eyes that reminded Finn of gathering storm clouds. His long black hair was tied in a messy bun held up by a golden pin, a braided strand hung loosely near his face. His beard was much shorter than what Finnrick remembered though he noted the unkempt split ends indicated that Amos hadn’t trimmed it in a few weeks. His iconic dark red sleeveless jerkin and black jean combination would look ridiculous on a lesser man but had allowed the monster hunter to show off his muscular frame. His brown skin was a bit more pale than usual so no doubt Amos had been operating at night lately.

“Finnrick, you cheeky bastard! I am so glad you came!” Amos beamed happily, his various bangles and bracelets clinking together in equally joyous celebration as the two shook hands.

“Amos! Happy to see you.” Finn beamed brightly as he slid into the booth across his old friend “Why though? Family trouble?”

Amos’s joyfully gleam turned dark for a moment.

“No. Have you…?”

Finnrick shook his head quickly “Not a word. Sorry, I hadn’t meant to…”

Amos waved the apology away “No worries cuz. I understand why you’d think that. Coming across the pond isn’t a spur of the moment thing and Os has always been the black sheep of the family. I suppose no news is good news.”

“Right.” Finnrick cleared his throat awkwardly “So what’s the trouble? I doubt you’d call me up for a nip and chat.”

“Rightly so.” Amos confirmed, reaching into the bag at his side and pulling out a folder “Hunting business as usual cuz.”

That made sense: Amos was the latest of a long family whose specialized business was monster hunting. The Fryes had been striking at things that went bump in the night for centuries ever since the first Frye defended the folk of some underground society.

Amos was an average wizard if Finnrick was being generous. That was not a slight against his old friend, it was a matter of fact: Amos spent most of his time honing the physical aspects of his profession which was obvious given the size of his arms. Any spells he knew were purely for defensive or preventive measures so he often communicated with Finnrick for higher quality and complex spellwork.

Finnrick took the folder from Amos and began pouring over its contents.

Most were quickly scrawled notes Amos had noticed about his quarry: Long sliver hairs, canine in nature. Large paw prints found in the areas it had been sighted, far too big to any natural wolf. Wulfvur and werewolf were hastily written and as quickly crossed out. A pattern of hanging out in wild areas, often forests and swamps.

There were pictures too: flashes of sliver, blurs of fangs and muzzles darting in and out of camera frame. It was always a distance away, sprinting deeper into the wildness. It was hard to tell from the photos but Finn guessed it might’ve been 10 feet tall at the very least.

“Why we hunting wolves now?” Finnrick asked curiously.

Amos flagged down the waitress “Contract given to my pa. It was hanging around the marsh lands of the jolly old isles. Someone wanted it gone.”

Something wasn’t clicking with Finn “and you followed it here? From England?”

“Nah cuz” Amos gave a cheeky grin “I tackled it through a portal and found I illegally crossed into America.”

“Ah.” Finnrick nodded in understanding “Fae.”

“Fae?” Amos frowned thoughtfully “I thought that too but I never heard of any snarling wolfie breaking into homes and snatching out wee younglings in them old folktales.”

“Fae are weird.” Finnrick shrugged “Their whole shtick is not making any sense. I had to expel a cat the size of a bus once. Double decker tall.”

Amos whistled in appreciation as he scratched his bread “So fae. Slippy fellow as you can tell. Whatcha recommend?”

“What’s the contract?”

“Banishment. It’s looking like wolfie ended up in the wrong part of town.”

“I think you mean next town over. Fixed a pattern yet?”

“Not yet but I wasn’t looking for one.” Amos admitted “Thought I was tracking some mutant. Fae changes a lot. Magical circles?”

“Easiest way to catch it.” Finnrick agreed “Sliver for sure. Iron would hurt it and based on your files, it hasn’t done anything than thin the local wildlife population. No need to anger mister big bad wolf.”

“Good call. I got some talent to handle a few circles but tracking is not really my speed.”

“I’m on a case but if you swing by the M.R.R.D, maybe they’ll loan you a wizard.”

Amos let out a disappointed sigh “I need to take care this sometime this year Finny. Bloody bureaucracy probably set me back a month at least.”

“There’s always Jaime but she’s pretty busy at work.”

“Jaime huh?” Amos smiled mischievously “I haven’t talked to your sister in a long time.”

“I will curse you.” Finnrick playfully threatened “And not no simple hex either. I’ll make you bald.”

Amos gasped dramatically, clutching at his hair protectively “You wouldn’t dare mate.”

“Shinier than the sun.”

“Okay, okay” Amos conceded “I’m kidding. She’s with Casey anyway. Good couple. Cute couple. He still hopelessly selfless and she still trying to fast track her way to power?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna fix that?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s their lives. Their choices.”

“Idiots.” Amos chuckled “the lot of them.”

“All you need is love?”

“Spoken true the gospel of my land.”

-----

A few hours later with a brainstorm session completed and a promise to help out the next day, Finnrick left Amos to his work and continued with his own.

It was noon now and as the sun rose high in the sky, Finnrick found himself at the Grimyard.

The Grimyard was the premiere spot for all things magical in Newton Haven: Rows and rows of shops specifically catering to the magic community. The streets were paved with century old cobblestone and the buildings here were various hues of faded brick and mortar. It was easy to get lost in the Grimyard if it was your first time as the Grimyard did not spread out, it stacked downward. Layers upon layers of the Grimyard were actually underground to allow those with issues against the sun to sell their goods and services at all times of the day. Don’t let the dark fool you, anyone with worthy talent or product was here in the Grimyard.

Normally Finnrick would wander around a bit, checking out the various businesses and protective wards around the mile long patch of land but he was on the clock and the sooner he began to figure out what was going on, the sooner he could stop it.

Luckily for him, his destination was right here on the top floor of the marketplace. Specifically furthest back corner.

Knightly Ore was ran by the Knight family. Originally they only sold rare metals and ores which were necessary components for some of the more complicated magicks. At some point the owners expanded into selling more alchemical materials and eventually brewing potions, salves and such for a fee.

Despite decent business, it was the most rundown building in this part of the Grimyard: Broken window shudders with the paint faded down to the original shade when the business first opened decades ago. The humble black door was crooked and creaked whenever it moved

Finnrick knew the owners fairly well but here wasn’t here for them. He was here to see their son.

He pushed past the building, ducking into the alley that led to the lot directly behind the shop.

“Halt!” A voice called out “Who seeks the Brewmaster of the Grimyard?”

“It is I, Finnrick the detective. I got money and I need work done”

The Brewmaster was Theodore Knight, an incredibly talented alchemist who didn’t have the same opportunities Finnrick did: He was pretty tall for his age (14 or 15, Finnrick lost track once or twice) but clearly a teenager given his short lavender hair had a few strands dyed red. His eyes were an unnatural pale blue, paler than the blue of the sky. He wore the usual attire Finn often found him in: A sleeveless dark blue hoodie with a fist sized red gem clasped in front just under his neck and a lighter shade blue t-shirt. He wore black finger-less gloves gripping his brown messenger bag slung around his shoulder. A matching brown pouch hung around the waist of his gray cargo shorts and his brown boots were kept clean despite his place of business was in an alley behind his parents shop.

Theo jumped out from a hidden shadowy corner of the lot “Finn, whatcha got for me now?”

Finnrick reached into his pocket, showing the eager teen the vial that held blacken dust within.

“That’s it?” Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes “I was expecting something…...cooler.”

He took the vial and raised it to the sun. Theo gave it a rough shake and watched it carefully for any properties the strange substance would display.

Theo frowned, clearly unsatisfied by what he saw “You brought me ash? Plain ash? It’s your money but even I think it’s a waste.”

“It’s ash?”

Theo shot the detective a look that screamed how obvious it should’ve been “Yes, ash. Thicker than what I’ve seen but ash all the same.”

Finnrick bit his cheek thoughtfully.

“Look Finn, you know my rates. I dunno what you want me to do but standard fees apply.”

“I’ll paying double.”

The Brewmaster’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “Double for ash? What’s so special about it?”

“Oh nothing." Finnrick pretended to look disinterested “Aside it was taken directly from a crime scene: Necromancy and cast via a half melted spell circle.”

It took Theo a minute to allow the implications of what Finnrick said to sink in. His eyes shifted from suspicion to wild excitement.

“Really?!” Theo clutched the vial like it was his first born child “Necromancy really doesn’t like many alchemy processes. It’s not going to be easy for me.”

“I know right?” Finnrick grinned impishly “It’s almost like I’m going to have to pay double for it.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to….” Theo pouted unhappily “Ha freaking ha. Okay smart guy, pay up.”

Finnrick handed over 50 gold. Theo took it eagerly, his eyes lightening up with glee.

Theo paused for a moment, his face turning oddly serious for a teenager.

“It might take me awhile depending on what you want.”

“I want to know what’s in it. Necromancy requires specific ingredients. After that it’ll be easier to track the seller.”

“And the buyer!” Theo blurted out excitedly “Smart.”

Finnrick ruffled his hair playfully “I wish I thought of it. You keep this up and you’re going to run me out of business.”

“I’ll text you when I have something.”

“Pleasure as always Theo.”

“It’s Brewmaster.”

-----

It was 2 in the afternoon when Finnrick made his way back to the Salt-Iron. He stood outside the complex, tossing the remains of his pizza into his waiting maw and crumpling the can of soda he was drinking before tucking into his coat pocket.

“What’s this?” Finnrick asked, utterly confused by the crushed foam cup he pulled from within “Oh right my coffee. I’ve been really at today.”

Finnrick wiped his hands clean and made his way inside the Salt-Iron once more, mulling over the details of the case as he ascended up the stairway.

Blacken ash cast by a spell circle. Both father and son missing with no indication where they went too. Recluses and rarely seen. Necromancy within a threshold.

It was hard to tell how deeply the father and son were involved in spell. Someone who had access to the apartment was behind it no doubt. Spell circles were the most consistent way to cast magic but they took time to build, set and channel energy. You didn’t build a spell circle without knowing exactly what you plan to do with it.

The nature of the magic was also a mystery: Dark magic had various applications and not a single one was good. Finnrick hadn’t much experience with that branch of magic but there was nothing logical about the aftereffects: Ash spread throughout the apartment, clinging to everything like a second skin. There was no signs of an outward blast given that nothing bent in the same direction. Everything in that room decided to twist in whatever wayit felt like. If the spell was supposed to draw in something then chair legs and wall tiles would’ve been pulled directly towards the circle.

“Curiouser and curiouser Alice” Finnrick spoke to no one in particular.

He was on the fifth floor when he noticed something odd.

Finnrick raised an eyebrow as the skies outside the window darken, black and stormy.

A thunderstorm it seems.

Finnrick peered out the window, glancing upwards to see what was going on.

Dark clouds swirled directly overhead. Rain began to lightly drizzle as the skies boomed. Thunder and a moment later lightning trailing across the gathering storm.

A thunderstorm that formed directly above this building.

Without warning.

“Well that’s not ominous.”

Finnrick made the mistake of leaning closer to the window, peering around to see if he could see where exactly the storm was coming from when it happened.

“Watch out below!”

Finnrick noticed three things in that moment: First, was of course, someone shouting to watch out below. Second was the distant sound of claws scratching something wooden, the walls perhaps. Lastly was the thudding of something falling down quickly and towards him.

Finnrick rose his hand, pivoting on his heels in time to see something crash into him.

It wasn’t much of a contest: Both Finnrick and whatever slammed into him broke through the fifth story window and went sprawling into a freefall.

#My story #Mirror's Edge #Original Work #original story

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impala-in-gotham · 3 years ago

Text

This Destiel/finale fix-it ficlet I wrote...

This is my first attempt at writing fic so be gentle haha but I had a dream close to this and kinda tweaked it from there but it’s basically a finale fix-it in which I’ve decided Dean’s still alive. He lost consciousness a few sentences into his speech and imagined the rest, which is what we saw. There’s just too much about “heaven” that has been used before as a façade. So here goes…

“Okay. P-Please. I'm fading pretty quick, so...there's a few things that I-...” before he can even start the next words Dean’s head lolls to the side and his eyes fall closed.

Sam feels like everything is moving in slow motion as the nightmare of losing his brother plays out in front of his eyes.

“Dean??”

Sam holds Dean in place the best he can and his dread drains away slightly as he hears Dean’s shallow breaths despite his sudden loss of consciousness.

Sam's thoughts start racing, time-induced panic ticking away. Nothing they haven’t dealt with before but this isn’t Chuck’s tale of heroes anymore. It’s just them now.

"Shit, shit, shit...the nearest hospital is still too far...I can't...there's too many bodies to even try to explain...I can't even let Dean go to hide them...shit. Shit...Jack!"

"Hang on, Dean. Just hang on as long as you can. I'll fix this."

Sam prays loudly into the empty barn, "Jack?? Jack, I know you can see this, I hope you can do something, please. It can't end like this. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not after everything we've been through, everything Dean's survived, he doesn't deserve this. You know he doesn't. Please, Jack. He's not gone yet, he can still be saved. I'm not asking for resurrection here, just...just heal him, please, he deserves to be saved."

As if on cue, the barn roof starts to rattle, a few bulbs burst overhead and Cas walks through the barn doors, rushing to their side while Sam's eyes widen in shock.

"Cas?!? but...", Sam stammers out with only a little bit of shock and a lot more relief.

Cas darts his eyes straight at him and it feels like he's looking straight at his soul.

"Sam, I need you to hold him steady, I'll start healing, but I need you to slowly pull him forward as I heal, alright?... Sam?!...Ok?!"

"Yeah...Yes...Ok, I'm ready.", Sam’s words stumble out as he refocuses onto Dean's weight in his arms.

The familiar golden glow pours from Cas steadier than it did the last time Sam watched him heal Dean's hand. So easily that Sam is holding all of Dean's weight mere seconds later. Cas helps him lay Dean down. Dean's breathing has evened out, but his face is still clammy and pale.

Cas holds Dean's head in his lap for a few moments, as he pulls off his trench coat and folds it up as a makeshift pillow, easing his head onto it. The care and intimacy of the moment, it feels like Sam needs to look away, but then Cas stands and looks up at the relief and tears on Sam's face.

"He'll be alright, Sam. He lost a fair amount of blood so he just nee-".

Sam practically slams his entire body into Cas as he crushes him into a hug, "Cas, I can't believe you're here. Of course, you're here. You saved him. You always save him. Thank you, Cas. I didn't know what to do. Jack said he'd be hands-off but it's Dean."

"Of course. Jack sent me as soon as he heard you. We’re lucky we made it in time.", Cas looks around at the lifeless bodies and their lost heads strewn about, "I'll help you clean this up but first, I'll get those boys home."

As Sam piles up the bodies a familiar but long since heard sound of wings flutter near Dean and Cas is back. He's looking down at Dean with such adoration but with his matter-of-fact tone states, "They're back with their mother, who was thankful to you both...and to have her tongue healed back. I took the liberty of altering their memories. They shouldn't have to live with that trauma." His eyes still lost to watching Dean’s chest rise and fall.

"You got your wings back," Sam says without realizing he thought it aloud.

Cas smiles coyly and looks back at Sam, visibly spreading them out, while Sam watches in awe as their shadows encompass the barn behind him. "Along with a few other powers I've missed now that Jack has restored heaven to what it should be."

Sam sighs, "Yeah, about that..."

While cleaning up the barn, Sam and Cas catch each other up on what happened since they last saw each other. Sam talks about defeating Chuck, Jack bringing everyone back, and how mundane the past months of freedom have been. Cas tells Sam how Jack rescued him from the Empty as well as other angels like Michael (with Adam), Gabriel, Hannah, Samandriel, and Balthazar to name a few.

Sam throws his lighter into the pile of vamps and looks over at Cas, "It's great to have you back, Cas. Dean didn't...well more like couldn't I guess. He couldn't talk about you much after... all he told us was you made a deal and you summoned the Empty to save him from Billie...but after that, he could barely say your name. Didn't stop him from asking Chuck to bring you back", he says with a small smirk, then presses his lips together and sighs, "but it was like a part of him had shut down or just broke. He wouldn't tell me and if you don't want to, I won't push it but you're my best friend, Cas and I...I still don’t know...Can you tell me what happened?"

Cas looks into Sam's puppy dog eyes, now glistening either from the fire or the topic, and then over at Dean still peacefully asleep a few feet away. He reaches out his grace and maybe Dean's soul recognizes it because he is sleeping soundly as if he hasn't in months. Cas guesses that's probably true. Contemplating how much of the story is his to tell and how much Dean would allow him to say since Sam and Cas both know it's not that he won't, he can't.

Cas reaches out and squeezes Sam's shoulder. "I'm sorry for any pain I caused you, I didn't have a choice. I knew it was the only way to beat Chuck. That only you and Dean could find a way. I made the deal to save Jack when he was dying, the Shadow agreed to take me instead but not until I had experienced true happiness. With Chuck in charge, any happiness seemed impossible, but I thought proving to Dean that he is worth saving, that all he's ever done was driven by love, not anger, prove to him why I love him." His voice betrays him by cracking on the last words. Still new to his mouth and his ears.

Cas searches Sam's face for any sort of shock or surprise but finds none. Instead, there’s a kind understanding that only Sam would have.

Sam sighs and says, "That's why." he continues as Cas' head tilts, "When we faced Chuck, he called Dean the ultimate killer but Dean just walked past him, no anger or malice, and just said 'that's not who I am'. It was because of you. He must have finally started to see himself the way you see him. How we all see him."

Cas brightens at that, looking back over at Dean, "Then it worked. The only thing I ever wanted was for Dean to love himself. I didn't ever think I'd be enough. That how I feel about him was enough after everything...after every time I tried to prove it. It was never enough before."

Sam smiles warmly, "You were enough, Cas. I've been trying almost our whole lives to get Dean to believe he wasn't a killer, that his life was worth more. I think we all tried, but you got through to him. He tried so hard after you...he tried but I could tell he was forcing it. Tonight, before you got here, it sounded like he'd given up. It sounded like the last time we lost you.” Sam shakes his head, trying to push away the image of Dean plunging a syringe into his heart, “Cas…every time we lost you it's been hard. For me too, but for Dean... it's different, each time it was different. He’d close himself off. He’d lose all faith. He’d give up. He’d want to die. I think...I think that he loves you more than he lets on. He's better when you're back. He's only happy when you're back."

Cas looks back over at Sam, a trace of a smile, "I know. I always felt it, just... well", he huffs, "We both know he's not one for words. But I know how he feels. I think his fear was more so in having something to lose. We’ve lost each other too many times."

The fire is dying down with the bodies not quite recognizable. Sam collects their gear into Baby's trunk. Cas walks out of the barn carrying Dean as if he's as light as a feather. Sam offers to drive Baby back to the bunker if Cas wants to fly Dean back instead. Cas nods and another flutter of wings echoes in the space left behind. Sam climbs into Baby, places his hands tightly on the wheel, closes his eyes, and prays to Jack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Dean wakes up. He slowly realizes he's back in the bunker, he's in his room, there's no pain in his back, and his hand is being held. He looks over to meet gleaming blue eyes he thought he’d never see again and can barely get anything out. “Cas... but how... you...?” and just pulls him into an awkwardly angled hug but holds on so tightly. It's just them. He doesn't have a time limit.

Dean feels as Cas inhales to explain but Dean cuts him off with “It doesn’t matter how. Is this real? Are you really back? For good."

Cas smiles as if his true happiness reaches a new level and simply says, “Hello, Dean." tightening his embrace, "Yes, Jack brought me back-- new and improved”.

Dean holds him and breathes in that familiar ozone smell, feels the pulse of grace within him stronger than before, something only he seems to be able to feel. "I thought I lost you forever. I thought you...wait," he pulls back to look at Cas again, "Didn't I die? I was in heaven, but it felt...wrong, you were there but you didn't come to see me, Bobby was there but he didn't even hug me after... what? 8 years?! No one else showed up. I just drove to a bridge…Tell me you didn't make a deal or -" his face freezes and his entire body goes tense, "Where's Sam?"

"No, you didn't die. Sam prayed to Jack and I came straight to you. You're healed but the blood loss left you pretty lethargic; though, I think that was your own exhaustion. Sam’s fine, he took the Impala. Should be here soon. You’re safe, it was just a dream. Those boys are back with their mother. I healed her. Altered their memories. Everyone's safe now. Sam told me everything that happened since...I...," a brief sadness flashes in his eyes before he brightens and smiles at Dean, "I knew you would save the world."

“I’ve been trying to find a way into the Empty for months, Cas. I…I read everything I could find but there was barely anything. I tried to use your blood from the sigil to summon you like what Nick tried to do but I guess I didn’t get the ingredients right or I don’t know…nothing worked. Jack never answered any of my prayers but I kept asking him to bring you back. I tried--…”

“Dean.” The tone over that one syllable calmed Dean the same way only Cas has always managed to be able to do.

Cas continued, “I’m back. Jack only recently was able to get me back but he heard your prayers. It took a lot of time and bargaining to get me and as many angels as we could save back out. The Shadow’s asleep again. I’m back and I’m not going anywhere. This is my home. I’m home.”

Dean sits processing this. Shaking off the fake heaven and submerging himself in Cas being alive and here. Now. In his grasp. He doesn't know how he gets to have a second...or seventh? chance but all that matters is everyone he loves, everyone he cares about is safe.

Dean meets Cas’s eyes and stares into the bright, deep blue he's fallen in love with so many times, eyes that have seen every part of who he is, good and bad, and says, “I love you too, Cas.”

Cas smiles very much like he did before the Empty was summoned but without tears because the one thing he wants is right in front of him. Looking at him like he is the most important being in every possible alternate universe. Still so beautiful.

Dean's eyes drift to Cas's lips as they have many times before, asking the same question Cas has yet to answer. Cas places a hand behind the base of Dean's neck, his fingers warm and strong as they pull Dean closer. Finally, their lips come together and it feels like no other kiss either of them has ever had. It feels like swirling grace entangling into his soul; it feels like being healed. It feels like every jagged piece of each other is clicking into place, completing and filling what was empty and longing before. It feels like being saved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam parks in the garage and leaves everything as-is to deal with later. He heads down the hallway to check on Dean when suddenly the overhead lights flicker but before he can run for iron or salt, the bulbs burst. First the one over Dean's door, then a few more heading his direction, then nothing. Sam relaxes and sighs deeply, “Finally!”

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dying-artist-yes · 3 years ago

Text

A Temporary Parting

So my friends decided to do nice things for me and I have decided to do nice things back. I will be doing these for 6 characters and this is the first character; Remi. Let’s gooooo.

Mum, I’m sorry for how this starts off. I promise it gets fluffier later okay? @alyssoujo

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- How long had it been since she’d left him? Since God had so cruelly torn his beloved away from him? Lucifer still remembered it clearly as if it had happened yesterday. He remembered it often. He would replay it over and over until she returned. He had been in his office, working away at the latest stack of paperwork dropped onto him. With Barbatos gone, he and Diavolo were having to cover for him as well and so, their normal paperwork was doubled. He had been frustrated and irritated for at least 3 days now. Not primarily because of work but because he had an argument with Remi. Yes, they’ve bickered before but it was just that; bickering. Never had she raised her voice with him like that. Through their pact, he knew she had regretted it almost immediately but not once did she call in the 3 days that had followed. He hadn’t reached out to her for the first few hours, thinking they both needed time to cool off so they could talk about what had just happened and reconcile but a message never came from her. He sent her so very many but she didn’t even see them. He grew frustrated, thinking she was ignoring him still due to their argument and stopped texting and attempting to call her after a while of being ignored. He just concluded that when she’d had enough of ignoring him, she’d call him. Yet that never came. It had been 3 days and not so much as a peep from her. She hadn’t even been online in the past 3 days. This made Lucifer worried but, of course, he was basically bound to his desk until he finished working. That’s part of what had been frustrating him; his inability to check up on his wife and see if she was alright. To be able to see for himself that she was just ignoring him longer than usual because he had been insensitive towards her two male friends. Seems he need not wait any longer. He could feel a tug, a very strong one, pulling on the back of his right hand, where his pact mark with Remi rested. ‘Finally...’ He thought to himself with a soft sigh before responding to the summon, expecting to be hugged by his wife or something of the sort but what greeted him made his entire world come crashing down. He was in a dark room he didn’t recognize, far from Paris as far as he could tell. When he first appeared, Lucifer’s thoughts were ‘Why would she come to a place like this?’ His question was answered all too soon as the moment he looked in front of him, he was greeted by the dying form of his wife. “REMI!” Panicked took ahold of him as he picked up her bloodied form, cradling her in his arms. He muttered every healing spell he knew, anything that could keep his wife from leaving him. She was sickly pale, a hole in the middle of her chest as though someone had ripped something out, and had been soaking in a pool of her own blood. “H-Hang on...! You will be fine...!” His voice broke as he said this but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making sure she would see the light of day. That his light wouldn’t leave his side. Why was she here? Who did this? All these questions ran through his head but were brought to a halt when he felt his wife’s cold hand on his cheek. “Luci...fer... It’s... too late...” Came her weak voice and his eyes widened as he heard her words. Why didn’t he check sooner? Why didn’t he keep trying to reach out to her? He could’ve gone to Paris to visit her. He should’ve gone to talk to her. “I... am sor...ry... I...” She was struggling just to speak and Lucifer shook his head, letting the tears fall as he gently brought her head up to press his forehead against hers. “Shhh... I should be the one who’s sorry... I should have come to check on you... I should have come to you...” He mumbled as the tears kept falling. Remi weakly tried to wipe them away as she shook her head to the best of her abilities. “I... should ha...ve... summon...ed... y-you... sooner...” She got out weakly and with every breath she took, Lucifer could feel more life leave her. She was dying in his arms and he was helpless just as he had been the past 3 times. She was slipping out of his grasp and he couldn’t do anything. He was too late to save the woman he loved above all else. The woman who became his world. “Remi please... D-Don’t leave me too... Please...” He was begging. He wouldn’t do this but if it meant she lived, he would beg anyone, even his Father he despised above all else. He couldn’t lose her too. He couldn’t lose her like he had lost Lilith. “I-I’m... sorry... about... our argu...ment... I-I was... too harsh... I-I had... so much... to tell... you...” She too was crying now as her death approached her. “P-Please... G-Grant this one wish... of mine...” She said weakly as Lucifer looked at her desperately. The tears wouldn’t stop it no matter how much he wanted them to and once again he found himself cursing his pride. Had he just reached out to her when he felt her regret and sorrow, perhaps this could have been avoided. “What... What is it dearest wife...?” He got out weakly. “P-Please... F-Find me again... I-I know... i-it is sel...fish... b-but... p-please... wait for... me... a-and f-find me... l-like you promised...” She said, whimpering quietly as more tears flowed down her cheeks. “Of course... You forget who you have for a husband... You are mine for all eternity, just as I am yours... So no matter how long it takes, I will find you once again... I will find you as many times as needed... We shall be together in every life given to you...” He said softly, placing her hand against his cheek. She gave him a weak yet fond smile as she weakly caressed his cheek. He leaned into her cold touch. “Thank.. you... I love you...” She said, barely above a whisper before she fell limp. It took him a moment to register that she had truly left him. However... “This is just a temporary parting... I will ensure it...” He said softly as he held her lifeless body in his arms. He had remained like this for a while until Diavolo had appeared behind him. Upon seeing his friend grieving like this, the prince’s heart broke. “Lucifer...” “I am fine Diavolo.” He said as he stood up with Remi in his arms. Even in death, she looked serene and beautiful to him. Even if she had been torn away from him in this life, he’d ensure no one could do so in the next.

He sighed, opening his eyes. He remembered the concerned looks his brothers had given him. He remembered throwing himself into work. Even if he knew she would return somehow, it still hurt. There was still a hole in his heart. He still felt incomplete. He would read her letters. He would look at the small figurine she had gotten him. Listen to the song she’d made for him. Everything she’d given him, he would look over because they were little parts of her he still had with himself. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten the promise he’d made with her. He’d spent the last 600 years searching for her but to no avail. What was Father doing with her soul for the past 600 years? Keeping it hostage? He let out a frustrated sigh and hid his face in his hands. He needed tea. He needed to calm down so he could focus on work again. However, before he could even get up to brew the tea, the doors to his office burst open to reveal everyone’s favorite neighborhood angel; Simeon.

Lucifer pulled his face out of his hands and normally would have glared at him for barging in like this but he noticed the urgent look on his face. He raised a brow in a questioning manner and the angel just took a moment to catch his breath. “I... I have something. For you.” Simeon got out in between his many pants. Lucifer didn’t quite understand what could warrant this reaction out of the normally calm and collected Simeon but he nodded and gestured for Simeon to bring whatever it was he had found. Simeon gestured for a Little D to come in and Lucifer’s eyes widened. “Is that...” “A bouquet of blue roses? Yes. Someone left it at the Angel’s Halo along with a letter addressed to you.” Simeon said as he searched through his pockets before pulling out a baby blue envelope from his pocket.

Lucifer swiftly took the letter but was very careful in opening it. The first thing he saw had almost made him feel as though his breath had been caught in his throat. It was a picture. A picture of a young woman smiling with a bouquet of blue and red roses. Straight black hair, unlike her previously half and half black on the left and white on the right hair, and straight bangs. It was still waist length, just less wavy. Her skin tone was more towards porcelain now than pale ivory but the one thing that hadn’t been altered about her, left untouched completely, were her eyes. Her striking blue eyes he remembered peering into only to see love and adoration for himself. The eyes that would shine whenever they saw him. The eyes that belonged to his wife.

There were various pictures like this. About 10. Whoever took the pictures seems close with her. He then pulled out the letter and opened it to read the contents of it. The letter read;

“Hello Lucifer,

It has been 600 years since you’ve seen the lovely young lady in the picture, yes? Well~ She was finally reborn~ She’s a lovely young demon born in Canada. I made sure her parents named her Remi so you don’t have to get used to another name. You would think that being reborn would mean she has no memories of her past life and yet your influence has not left her in the slightest.

Every birthday she has had the past... what? 121 years now? she has only asked for one thing; blue roses. The gift you got her on her birthday all those years ago. I am certain if you go check, those are blooming again. Each and every blue rose she has received, she cherishes with her life until it wilts. She is also very fond of the color red and the color blue. Hm... I wonder why? She’s also very fond of making spicy food and warm desserts despite not liking them. Once again, I wonder why? Oh! And also, she has turned down everyone that’s ever tried to hit on her. She threatens them with a description of a man that matches yours. When I asked her where she got it from, she said she dreamt of this person and even if she was not sure whether or not he was real, the love she saw in this person’s eyes made her feel whole and so if needed, she’d spend her entire life looking for him. She’ll only accept you.

Anyways. You are probably curious as to why you haven’t bee able to find her if she’s been alive for 121 years now. Well, that would be because of your Father. Well, more Michael really. He has made sure every time you’ve come across her, she didn’t see you and you didn’t see her. I really don’t understand why but it is what it is.

I, however, do no take orders from Michael so while he is kept busy, I am ensuring you find Remi. Her memories are not gone. God did not keep her soul for 479 years for no reason. She spent all that time bargaining to keep her memories. To be born anything but a human so she would not have to leave your side again. After much insistence, He allowed it on the condition that she would only remember once reunited with you. Apparently Michael had a problem with that. Since I’m the one doing it though, he can suck it because he can’t punish me.

She is currently visiting England, London to be specific, the last picture I sent is proof of that. That’s why I sent the bouquet of blue roses to Simeon with this letter because I knew he’d get it to you.

Come and get your wife before Michael sticks his nose in where it doesn’t belong again.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. “Simeon-” “I’m ready to accommodate you Lucifer. You helped me when I needed to find Celes, this is the least I can do to repay that debt.” He said with a soft smile before opening his arms up. “Hug?” “... Just this once.” Lucifer said with a soft sigh before getting up and hugging Simeon, who happily hugged back. He’d finally be reunited with her again. He’d make sure she stayed this time. “Let us get going... I’ve made her wait long enough.” He said, pulling away from the hug as Simeon grinned and nodded. The two of them made their way to the human world so the Avatar of Pride’s bride could return to him, so she could return home.

Despite his many protests, Simeon insisted Lucifer stay with him and Celestina. In a way, he was glad Simeon was so stubborn. It was nice to be surrounded by Simeon’s sunny family. Before, it hurt to be around anyone’s family because all he could see was Remi but now... with her about to return, rather than seeing their family as a fleeting dream, he saw it as something he would make a reality. He would not allow anything to get in-between them this time, especially not Michael. So looking at Simeon’s sunny family and playing with his kids... it reminded him of what he will soon have.

While Simeon oversaw his kids taking care of the Angel’s Halo, Lucifer would go to scour London in order to find Remi. She was close, he could feel it. As he made his way around, a garden caught his eye. It reminded him of the garden outside of the Mausoleum where he would lay down on her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair as Cerberus played with one of his many toys. The last memory he had of that was after she’d returned from her human world trip. She noticed he had been stressed so she took him to see Cerberus. Then, when they reached the park, she had him lay his head down on her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair and sang for him.

He inhaled as he closed his eyes, remembering that scene. ‘We can make many more this time.’ He thought to himself before opening his eyes again. He was just about to continue walking when he heard soft singing coming from the garden he had previously thought empty.

“... A ring on my finger and a promise of eternity...~ The one promise I refuse to fail to keep...~”

‘That’s...’ He recognized those lyrics. He quickly rushed into the garden and frantically looked around for the source of the singing. That’s when he saw her by the fountain in the middle of the garden, looking down at her lap which had a sketchbook on it.

“Every moment I spend with you~ My heart hammers away~ Screaming at me “Never let him go!” Oh I know, I know~ The kind of happiness I have with him~ No other could compare~ I love you I love you I love you~” “I love you~ I love you~ I love you so~”

Remi looked up from her sketchbook and towards the person who completed the chorus to the song and blinked when she saw him. She stood up, sketchbook in hand, and started walking towards him. Lucifer, in return, started walking towards her and met her at about halfway. “You’re... real, right?” Were the first words from her. Even her voice was the same. “Yes, I am real.” He responded with a smirk. “Would you like to check should you not believe me?” He asked with a raised brow. Remi hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek and immediately winced, placing her hand on her temple as she wobbled a little. Lucifer immediately wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. “Remi...! Are you alright...?” He asked, worry settling in. Maybe he shouldn’t have come in contact with her. What if he accidentally triggered something that would end her life? What if-

“I-I’m fine... M-My dearest Avatar of Pride...” She said smiling up at him through the pain. Lucifer could feel relief wash over him and for the first time in 600 years, he felt happy. “Just... remembering things... I would hate to not have any memories of you...” She said, leaning into his arms and resting her head against his chest. “You’re home now...” He said softly as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. “Yes... I’m home again...

... You found me.”

#obey me #lucifer #lucifer obey me #fanfic #angst to fluff #jesus this took forever #ily mum

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evabellasworld · 3 years ago

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Storm of the Republic

Chapter 23

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

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Summary: When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

————————————————————————————

Stopping in front of a medical clinic, Fives took a deep breath as he knocked on the door. Yara still clung to his back as Tup was thankfully breathing through his ventilators, though time was not on their side. A tall man in a lab coat and glasses answered the door, glancing at the three of them. “Do you need anything, clone?”

“I need your help,” pleased Fives. “My brother is dying and my sister had a head concussion. Could you do anything to save both of them?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t serve your kind here,” the male doctor said, as he shut the door in front of their face.

He let out a sigh and continued down the streets, searching for another clinic that would help them. With no credits or chain codes with them, Fives would have no other choice but to ask every health facility he could find to help Tup and Yara.

Yara held her head as she glanced at the street vendors from both corners, who were known for their simple yet scrumptious meal. A Zygerrian woman with sunhat was brewing ice-cold bubble tea for her younger customer, adding a big spoonful of brown sugar syrup for him.

She licked her lips as she turned to the Devaronian man in an apron, who was deep-frying nunas in oil and while sprinkling some hot sauce on fried rice rolls. Her stomach grumbled as she stared at the freshly cooked meal. It’s been hours since she had her last ration stick at base.

Fives noticed Yara looking at the street vendors and gave a pat on her hand. “It’s gonna be alright, vod. I will find someone to treat you and Tup and it will all be over soon, I promise.”

“I don’t think they like clones,” she whined, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I think Tup is going to die, Fives. It would be too late by the time we got help.”

“Don’t say that, Yara, please. Tup will be okay. I promise, we’re going to get help for you and Tup.”

She could only nod as Fives found another clinic by the traditional drugstore, prompting him to have a knock. “Is anyone in there?”

There was no answer. The ARC Trooper gave another knock, only this time, the tenant inside responded by yelling at them. “Fuck off! You’re not welcomed here!”

“Please, Dr. My brother is dying and my sister is having concussions. They will die if they don’t get treated.”

“Don’t you understand Basic? I said, fuck off!”

“What an asshat,” Yara cursed underneath, making her brother snicker. “For someone who went to medical school, he sure needs a lot of work in his down under.”

“Oh, so it’s okay if you make a dick joke?” Fives rolled his eyes. “But somehow, when I make a dick joke, you complain about it? Make it make sense, goddamit!”

“You make a dick joke when we’re in the middle of the mission, plus, your dick joke sucks.”

“Well, you don’t have a penis, so what makes you think your dick jokes are better than mine?”

“Fuck you,” she slapped his cheeks. “I’m ten times smarter than you.”

“Just be grateful that I’m carrying you right now. You could have been walking on your two feet but no, you broke your left arm and you hit your head, and I don’t want you to break any more bones in your body.”

Before Yara could respond, an elderly Togruta woman stepped out of the drugstore, eyeing both of them bickering with each other. She noticed an unconscious Tup strapped on his gurney and clicked her tongue in pity for the clones.

“Um...excuse me,” she called them, waving her hand. “But is he okay?”

Fives turned to Tup, before making eye contact with the purple Togruta and bobbed his head. “My brother’s dying, and my sister’s injured. Could you please help us? They might die if I do nothing.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot help you with your problems,” the old lady shook her head. “But I know someone who will. Her name is Dr. Tiana Urakchaevy. She’s one of the best doctors in town and she will help you and your siblings.”

“Does she accept clone troopers?”

“Dr. Urakchaevy’s clinic is right at the corner, and she will treat anybody, regardless of your species and background.”

“Where’s her clinic?”

“Dr. Urakchaevy’s clinic is right at the corner,” she pointed with her thumbs. “It’s the ones with flowers.”

“Thank you so much, ma’am,” Fives smiled, shaking her hands. “You are a lifesaver.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” the old lady replied as she placed a bottle of ointment on his palm. “Here, take this. This will be useful for your sister.”

He gave her a respectful salute as he journeyed through town, passing by every shop lot along the way. Unlike Kamino, the buildings were painted with myriads of colours, from red to orange, and even mint green. Fives watched the shop owners having an animated conversation with each other, making him think of his brothers and sisters back home.

“You know, Yara, when you and Tup are feeling better, we’ll be drinking together in no time,” he promised, sticking out his pinky. “I know you love cognac, and Tup loves a glass of Shirley Temple, so I’ll pay the tab for the both of you, alright?”

“And then what?” Yara grumbled.

“And then you both can do whatever you want. I’ll let you and Tup choose this time. We can do anything you both wanted to do, like watching that rom-com movie or have a bingo night. I know how much you blush at the male lead in a rom-com.”

“It’s not my fault they’re handsome as hell,” she poked his face. “If they were real, I wouldn’t hesitate to climb them like a tree.”

Fives snorted before clearing his throat. “Well, good luck with that. I bet they would cringe at your dick jokes.”

“Fuck you!”

Rolling his eyes, he held onto Yara and Tup as he arrived at the corner of the town and found a small, humble clinic in front of him. It was a double-storey shop, with magenta bougainvilleas grown in pots, and several pairs of shoes arranged neatly on a shoe rack.

I hope this one is friendly, Fives prayed, as he rang the doorbell. As he looked at his surroundings, the front door opened, revealing a dark-haired woman with dark skin and a yellow sundress, and was holding a bowl of cookie dough and a wooden spoon.

“Good afternoon,” she chirped. “You must be one of Tiana’s patients.”

“Yeah, the old lady by the drugstore sent us here. She told me that Dr. Urakchaevy could help my brother and sister.”

“Well, you can come in and have tea with us,” she invited them inside. “My wife will be with you in a short while.”

“Thank you so much. You’re too kind.”

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thatnamelessbutler · 3 years ago

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(OoC: So, what's the AU thing about?)

((ooc: Okay so basically I got an idea form a song completely unrelated to the fandom and long story short, Bi n Bu are no longer able to escape from the Egg except through a very specific method, and then Karl comes back along and bippity boppity your body is now our property!

So, yeah. Body-swap AU except Karl kinda dies because to get the swap to work everyone's body had to die. Karl's gets healed afterwards through magical time shenanigans-

So Billiam and Rune(Bu's new name in this AU) wake up in the library, in our current DSMP present, in the weird body of this weird guy who's apparently a weird color-shapeshifter.(yeah, i'm going with the cryptid creature Karl for this one because. it's cool as heck and I never see this anywhere)

a little while after they wake up in the present, karl wakes up after being dormant because he literally died and it's like "HEY WAIT WHAT THE HECK YOU STOLE MY BODY" and everyone else goes "shit shit shit shit"

p.s if you're wondering where hubert is he's dead. the egg killed nearly everyone except billiam and butler because bi is its main caretaker and bu will never leave his side

(more under the cut please there's so much and i actually love this au so much)

Now I'm not a system but I imagine these four(yes, four; Billiam, Rune, Piam(Billiam's Piglin side), and Tune(Bu's Other) operate kind of like one. They have an innerworld and everything, they aren't just all constantly crammed into the front. That would get confusing, stressful and difficult to manage overall. Bu's usually the one fronting because no one else wants to; Billiam doesn't wanna do it because he doesn't wanna mingle with the "poor", Tune doesn't wanna do it because it always gets tripped up with literally everything about the body, it's not even dangerous enough to protect now, and Piam doesn't wanna do it because he's kind of scared of the Overworld someone that doesn't know how to be a Human Person

Oh yeah and I've also talked about all this and more with my bestie so here's a copy-paste of that conversation-

I think an encounter with Sapnap and/or Quackity would go terribly too, until they sit down and explain things as best they can wait no actually "So basically, we killed your fiancée so we could inhabit his body and escape from a really bad situation. sorry" Acid Sapanap would go feral and I can't even begin to conceive what extremely destructive thoughts Quackoty would start having Me MHM Sapnap probably pulls a sword on them and they automatically reach for their own before remembering "Oh shit, we don't have it. OH SHIT-" and then they just gotta r u n Butler's trying desperately to teleport but without a pearl, eeeeeh that's not gonna do anything buddy I'm not sure if Karl has armor in his inventory or not but either way they wouldn't have the time or coordination to equip it Acid they just immediately die it'd be so funny Me "NOT AGAIN, WE JUST GOT FREE- death" Now lets hope either Karl has some extra canon lives, or those lives Billiam bought carry over Acid PFFFFT, BILLIAM'S LIVES GET CARRIED WITH THEM AND IT'S JUST revives ok listen we don't gotta dies revives please let's just dies revives why do you do t dies revives this is just gonna last forever isn't it? dies rev- Me wheeze YEAH "GET OUT OF KARL'S BODY!" "We can't!! It's already been done!! dies" "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!!?" "We are!!??" ohhh, bonus angst points if every time they die, Butler goes a little more dormant- Butler was only meant to have one life, he never got any Totems and his soul cannot take this in the way Billiam's can After about 15 deaths, Billiam gets Sapnap to stop for about five seconds, and in those five seconds he realizes that he can no longer hear or feel Butler Acid oh god Me If he manages to get far enough away and find someplace to hide(perhaps the library again), he dips into the headspace and finds Butler just gone. He looks around for a while and finds them far away from where they were, collapsed on the ground, flickering slightly, and entirely unresponsive. And no matter how much he tries, they just won't wake up, and their Ender half has disappeared completely. He can't do anything except wait for them. Acid fjsjdj oh my god imagine Billiam just goes feral after that he's like "what did you do to m y B u t l e r" and just jumps on Sapnap with his bare hands Me Oh absolutely, he will Murder Sapnap without a second thought and he doesn't care how many deaths he has to go through to do it even though dying more will make it take longer for butler to wake up, and then afterwards he'll be pacing around random areas stress-stimming intensely and waiting for his child to wake up Acid yeap Me Somehow he finds his way to Kinoko Kingdom and is like "oh, this looks like a good place for a walk" and then spends the entire time not actually looking at anything and drowned in anxiety

AND THEN THESE WERE LAST NIGHT'S THOUGHTS, SOMEHOW LATER ON THEY END UP AT SAPNAP'S PLACE CAUSE THEY TECHNICALLY DON'T HAVE A PLACE TO STAY Unless you count the library but I don't think that would be very comfortable-

Anyway, Rune was fronting when they fell asleep and then their chronic nightmares came back. Sapnap wakes up(or was he ever really sleeping?) to some almost animalistic gasping in the other room and runs in to find Karl Karl's body curled on the bed, barely humanoid and random flashes of color spiking over him in waves and clawlike hands digging into his head

So he tries to wake him up, and when he does Bu's first reaction is to scramble away in pure terror because he's not fully out of the nightmare yet, there are even tears running down his face that just get absorbed back into the mass of color. Sapnap tries to calm him down, and eventually succeeds enough to ask him what the hell happened, and who's fronting once he remembers that that is a thing-

Thing is, Bu's gone nonverbal, but hey at least Karl was some sort of shapeshifter so they can just shift blobs of color into the air to answer Sapnap's questions

He very quickly learns only to ask yes/no ones because he can't read Galactic which is the only thing Bu can respond in, but that whole night ends on a pretty good note :3

Acid IS KARL IN THE SYSTEM CANON? HE'D BE THE MAIN FRONTER IF IT IS I THINK Me After that nightmare Rune finds himself trusting Sapnap a little more but also not as able to front, he's just so tired of it. No one else wants to front, he always has to stay there and he never gets a break. At least before, Tune had control during the night and he got to rest some. Now his sleep schedule is just as abhorred as before and no one else even comes near the front. He tries as long as he can, for everyone else's sake, but after weeks of fronting alone he just can't anymore. So he finally leaves the front and just collapses face-first into idk a patch of grass in the innerworld or something, and he's so exhausted of being a person that he can't even think straight, He doesn't want consolation, he doesn't want promises, he doesn't even want cuddles he just wants someone else to take over for a bit. Me OOH MAYBE He wakes up and wanders around the innerworld figuring out what the heck is going on and wondering why he can't see the outside anymore and oh god is he dead, are they all dead maybe they're all dead and none of them know it, and then Rune comes out of front and practically begs to not have to be a person anymore, he tells Karl "please i just want a break, just go out there or get someone else to go out there for a while please" and, well, Karl takes a chance and goes out to front and holy shit is this the real world, holy shit are those his fiancées, holy s h i t Acid THAT'S THE BESR OUTCOME ACTUALLY Me YESSSSSSSSS MASQUERADE SYSTEM + KARL THE MAN HIMSELF JACOBS Acid YESSS Me Karl and Rune are now host and co-host, because. no one else wants to front Acid Karl tricking Billiam into fronting.mp4 Me GSHDFGBSGDHFBSF Rune and Karl lock him into front and Rune proceeds to lean against the nearest flat surface, slide down and then dissociate for the next couple/several hours Karl makes sure no one disturbs him, even if Tune and Piam are Very Worried about their exhausted Human hybrid Acid them taking care of Rune (affectionate)

Acid OK WAIT I WAS THINKING AND IN SYSTEMS PEOPLE USUALLY MANIFEST SO I WAS THINKING HOW THAT'D WORK IN THE MASQUERADE SYS AND I REALIZED THAT EVERYONE IN THERE IS TECHNICALLY DEAD IN A WAY WHAT IF THAT'S THIS AU'S LIMBO? ONE DAY WILBUR POPS UP AND COMMITS MULTIPLE CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY Me HOLY SHIT OH SHIT EVERYONE THAT PERMA-DIES JUST ENDS UP AS AN ALTER IN KARL'S WEIRD COLOR-SHAPESHIFTING BODY XDDD You can always tell who's fronting by the colors, as long as you actually know them enough to know their colors- Acid Wilbur: hello Quackity, I am BAC- Karl: oh my GOD Wilbur shut the FUCK UP we understand it you're gay now please get out of front I have a date in 10 minutes Acid OOOOO YES Me Like Rune is purple/pink(mainly pink) gray-red/dark purple/orange/green eyes(right/right/left/left, respectively), and then he has some other colors sifting through, like a dark indigo-blue and a yellow the color of Endstone Tune is all of that but some of it is darker(the pinks/purples and Endstone color), some of it's the same(the eyes, except they have a light pink shine over them) and some of it is inverted. Clouds will waft around the body when it's fronting and whenever you look through the clouds you'll see the colors inverted Billiam is solidly pale pink except for his eyes(maroon) and his hands and feet(gold, with veins streaking out and tapering off at about the elbow) Piam is a slightly redder pink, with spots of a Netherrack color here and there, and his gold is more orangey, like there's fire reflecting off of it karl is just. karl. Of course he's got the signature swirls in bright violent and teal but other than that he's just a smorgasbord of color, usually bright and neon. When he's near/thinking about Sapnap and/or Quackity, little hearts start popping off him

#Relyn Records #infodump #ask to tag #i don't know if there are any systems following me but if i got anything wrong please tell me i do not want to slander your name-#anyway i may have accidentally made them a system found-family

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chasingfigments · 4 years ago

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(Inspired by the prompt “Empty spools of thread” given to me by twitter user SeptimusMew:)

Noctis isn’t great at packing his own lunch, and his dad never has, but at least his dad is good about leaving him money. When it’s time for the lunch period, most of the kids in his class start pulling out their food, so Noctis heads out of the classroom and downstairs. There’s a little snack shop down on the first floor, near the shoe lockers, that’s staffed by the student council, but there’s a crowd and Noctis has had enough of people staring at him today.

This school isn’t as strict as his old one was; there aren’t any teachers at the front gates to keep students from leaving campus. He’s not the only high school student to head out, and he trails after uniformed students in twos or threes to the town’s only convenience store a couple blocks away in what passes for downtown.

The electronic doors slide open, and with them comes a welcome blast of air conditioning. Even in the middle of nowhere, convenience stores are all set up basically the same way, so it doesn't take Noctis long to find a pair of hard-boiled eggs, some plastic-wrapped onigiri, and a bottle of soda. The cashier barely looks at him, which is fine--Noctis would rather be just another anonymous high school student--and packs everything neatly into a plastic bag for him. Then Noctis is outside again and heads back to school.

The grounds are generous for a school this small; Noctis finds himself an empty section of bleachers near the track area and takes a seat. He fishes his cell phone from his pocket and turns it on--this the school is strict about, but there aren’t any teachers around to confiscate it--but there aren’t any messages, not even a how’s-your-first-day-going text from his dad. Nothing from his old friends, either, and he sighs even if he knows it’s stupid to pick at that old wound. He shuts his phone off and puts it away.

Noctis makes short work of the eggs and the onigiri. He is just finishing up his soda and wondering where he’s supposed to take his trash when someone turns the corner.

It’s that blond kid from his class. Noctis did skim over the school dress code, so the guy’s hair must be natural, because there’s no way he’d get away with it otherwise. What surprises Noctis, though, is that the guy actually perks up and waves at him--and then alters course straight for him.

“Hey,” he says when he’s close enough. He doesn’t try to climb up the bleachers to get closer, but it still makes Noctis feel a bit cornered. “You booked it out of class earlier, I didn’t have a chance to catch up.”

Noctis frowns. “You need something?”

“Huh? No.” The guy rocks back on his heels, like he’s surprised by Noct’s question. “I just wanted to say hi. I’m--well, I’m the one who had to do the whole new-guy introduction last year. My name’s Prompto.”

Noctis can’t help but be a little curious. From what he read online before moving, this town has slowly been dying for decades, with more people moving out than moving in. It’s barely got two thousand people now, and even with both the junior and senior high in the same building, there’s still plenty of space. “Why’d your family move out here?”

“My parents work for the Ministry of Agriculture,” he says. Prompto shrugs, a slight lift and fall of his shoulders. “Someone had to fill the post, and they wanted a change of scenery. You?”

“My grandfather died a couple years ago,” Noctis says flatly. “And dad got let go when his company restructured, so he’s finally getting around to taking care of the estate.”

Prompto blinks once, twice. “Sorry for your loss.”

“Gotta actually know someone for it to be a loss,” is all Noctis says, because he doesn’t even know how to explain to someone else how his dad collapses in on himself a little more every passing day for finally having to cave and accept the house and the money that he swore he’d never return to or touch. He finishes off his soda and waves the empty bottle at Prompto. “Where do I dump my trash?”

It’s supposed to be the end to the conversation, but Prompto doesn’t get the message. Or if he does, he ignores it. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

There aren’t many options left, and Noctis doesn’t want to be an entire asshole even though his mood has been shitty ever since they started packing up their old apartment, so he gets off the bleachers and falls into step with Prompto. “So, what is there even to do in this town?”

“Well, that depends,” Prompto says. He gestures toward the western sky and the forest-covered mountains that dominate a good section of it. “How much do you like nature?”

“I’d like it a hell of a lot better if it didn’t come with bugs.”

It wasn’t meant as a joke, but Prompto actually laughs, and something in Noct’s chest catches and pulls. “The last time I let Gladio take me hiking, a huge ass spider dropped right out of the trees and into my face.”

Noctis can feel a smile threatening to form at the corner of his mouth. “Well, cross hiking off the list.”

“Uh, there’s--a bar nearby, or kind of. They don’t start serving alcohol until six, so we can be in there until then. They’ve got some pool tables and arcade games and even a room for karaoke if you’re into that, and it’s probably the closest we’ve got to some place to hang out that’s not the park down by the river.”

“Not the biggest karaoke fan. But arcade games are cool.”

Prompto perks up at that. “Yeah? You ever play Justice Monsters?”

“I haven’t, sorry,” Noctis says as they round the corner of the building and find the row of trash cans.

“I could show you, if you want,” Prompto says, and it’s just the right amount of casual for Noctis to realize that Prompto really wants the answer to be yes.

“I can’t tonight, I gotta help my dad finish unpacking. But--how about this weekend?”

“You mean it?”

Prompto’s grinning, and Noctis finally allows himself a smile back. “Yeah, I do. What’s—”

But the rest of the question gets lodged in his throat because a handful of thin, black threads creep out from under the collar of Prompto’s uniform and slowly wrap their way around his throat.

“Noctis?” Prompto asks, and just like all the others Noctis has ever seen, he is entirely oblivious to what has caught Noct’s eye.

He’s never--he’s never seen them move before. Whenever he’s seen someone who is close to death, the threads are thick and binding, wrapped heavily around the soon-to-be-deceased, the ends trailing behind like smoke. A few times, he saw the ends wrapped around another person’s hands like a leash and knew that this was the person who would be responsible.

He’s never seen the threads just--appear. But they’re here now, when they weren’t just a few moments ago, delicate like a fine silver necklace around Prompto’s throat.

“Dude, are you okay?” Prompto reaches out and grabs him by the shoulders.

“Yeah,” Noctis tries, and then one of the threads drifts down and snakes its way around his wrist.

#noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #alternate universe #final fantasy xv #ffxv fanfiction

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owelineuro · 3 years ago

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#Oweli Neuro

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smoakmonster · 4 years ago

Text

G is for Gadgets and Gimmicks {3/3}

A/N:‌‌ ‌Well‌ ‌folks,‌ ‌the‌ ‌conclusion‌ ‌to‌ ‌my‌ ‌little‌ ‌bookstore‌ ‌AU‌ ‌is‌ ‌finally‌ ‌here!!‌ ‌Sorry‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌extreme‌ ‌delay‌ ‌in‌ ‌finishing‌ ‌out‌ ‌this‌ ‌series.‌ ‌I‌ ‌appreciate‌ ‌all‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌sweet‌ ‌responses‌ ‌to‌ ‌this‌ ‌fic.‌ ‌There’s‌ ‌just‌ ‌something‌ ‌so‌ ‌precious‌ ‌about‌ ‌fluffy‌ ‌Olicity,‌ ‌isn’t‌ ‌there?‌ ‌I‌ ‌hope‌ ‌you‌ ‌enjoy‌ ‌the‌ ‌wrap-up!‌ ‌Thank‌ ‌you‌ ‌again‌ ‌for‌ ‌reading!‌

‌Special‌ ‌thanks‌ ‌to:‌ ‌‌pleasantfanandstudent‌ ‌for‌ ‌this‌ ‌adorable‌ ‌cover‌ ‌art!‌ ‌

(Part‌ ‌1)‌ ‌(Part‌ ‌2)‌ ‌(Read‌ ‌on‌ ‌AO3)‌

***

com∙pro∙mise (v.)

3. to cause to become vulnerable or function less effectively

***

“Hey, the QR code on the door isn’t working, so do I still get the coupon?”

Oliver glances up from meticulously arranging rows of his latest mini-soufflé experiment to find a gangly teenage boy (probably a college freshman) watching him with expectation and just a hint of entitlement.

He frowns, stifling a sigh. “The what?”

This has been happening a lot lately. Interruptions. Deep down, Oliver knows that any form of interruption is a good interruption, that droves of customers, albeit annoying ones, do not detract from his work, but rather are the purpose of it. Strangers mean business. They mean another day where he gets to make payroll and keep his archaic practice of second-hand bookselling from dying out.

He’s not sure when or why or how his antiquated cardboard box of a business managed to draw this sudden influx of cantankerous college kids buried in cancer-causing gadgets, but he has his suspicions. Perhaps it has something to do with this QR...something? While Oliver may not understand ninety-percent of the latest digital discourse, he does know what a coupon is. And he’s pretty sure he would remember issuing said coupon.

As though the fringes of his very thoughts have pulled her forth by a string, the oh-so-familiar staccato of heels on old wood flooring tears Oliver’s attention.

“I’ve got this,” Felicity says brightly, with a brief hand on his arm. She inserts herself into the conversation with ease, brushing past Oliver to smooth things over with the impatient customer.

Her touch is so quick that for a second he thinks he might have imagined it. Only the warm buzzing just below the surface of skin is proof that it was real. In truth, her touch has become a more regular occurrence. This marks at least Number 10. Not that he’s keeping track. Not that his body even remembers. Every reaction is like the first time.

Simple, innocent little touches that cause his mind to stray to dangerous places. She probably has no idea the effect she has on him.

Felicity suddenly peeks his way and shoots him a quick wink. Or more like her attempt a wink. The squinty-eyed delayed blink is so endearingly Felicity that Oliver has never had the desire to correct her.

So maybe she has some idea.

Oliver shakes his head with a soft smile. He’s not sure when this happened, either, but somewhere along the way Felicity and he stopped exchanging the usual social greetings and formal pleasantries. Now, she just barges into his store with as much zeal and belonging as Thea.

The conversion taking place directly in front of him quickly devolves into Domain Lookup and Cloud Networking, and a mere five sentences in Oliver finds himself on the periphery. Feeling inept and oddly foolish, as he so often does in the presence of Felicity Smoak, and yet also a bit bereft that this kid can keep up with her whirlwind trail of thoughts and he cannot, Oliver decides to venture into the nonfiction recesses of the store. The only safe haven he has left apparently.

Oliver finds himself gravitating towards the cramped little nook nestled alongside the brick fireplace that’s been inoperable since Plymouth Rock (Thea’s words, not his). Last year on a whim, Oliver tried cleaning out the old fireplace and ended up drowning himself and the entire back of the store in soot. He spent days washing soot out his hair. Thea got a real kick out of that, dubbing the incident Gray Day.

Even now, it is not uncommon for the occasional customer to find a book sprinkled with the stuff and mistake it for dust.

The conversation up front grows muffled, lending a calm stillness to this part of the store. Hardly anyone ever ventures back here, partly because the aisles are more narrow and the lighting is poor, and partly because according to Rene it smells like a murder happened here. As if the kid knows what a murder smells like.

Personally, Oliver kind of likes the pine and leather aroma. It reminds him of simpler times, when Dad and he would go camping in the woods every summer. Oliver chuckles, remembering what a poor sport he could be and how patiently Dad taught him how to start a fire and set up a tent. He’d give anything to get more days like that with his father. More days at all, really.

What would it be like to get away like that again? Even just for a weekend? To go somewhere off-grid, no cell reception, no emails, no internet or WiFi or QR Codes or...

A flash of yellow binding catches his eye, and Oliver spots a book haphazardly stuffed on the third shelf. Carefully, he yanks the book out and reads the cover. Beginning Programming for Dummies.

A huff escapes him. It seems he can’t get away fast enough.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Oliver flips through the book, hopelessly searching, but not really wanting anything to stick. Maybe something in here will remind him of Felicity. Maybe if he can find even one word embedded in all these hieroglyphics, he’ll be able to make more sense of her world and actually be able to communicate with her about the things that are important to her.

But with every turn of the page, every heading and diagram just serves to confuse him all the more. With a frustrated groan, Oliver slams the book shut and attempts to shove it back into its tight crevice; at this point, he couldn’t care less if the book’s misshelved.

“Hey, what did that book ever do to you?”

Oliver stills. Her voice both jars and soothes him.

Feeling strangely guilty, he turns around but has trouble meeting her gaze, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as though he’s been caught cutting up in Mrs. Hannoven’s fourth grade class again. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Felicity tips her head, wearing that adorably confused pout of hers. “I’m not sure I’m the one who needs you to apologize.”

“Oh. Um…” Does she seriously want him to apologize to a book?

“What I mean is…” She takes several steps closer to him and has the decency of a saint to wait until he’s looking her in the eye before she continues. “Oliver, I’m sorry.”

“What?” What on earth could she possibly have to be sorry for?

“I shouldn’t have pushed for the QR codes. I knew it was too soon, but I just got so excited after all of my contacts agreed to help sponsor your website. And then, during a webinar last Thursday there was this study that said QR codes can help increase foot traffic by upwards of 30%. And I thought, ‘Hey, that seems like it could work for my friend Oliver’—I hope it’s not too presumptuous that I called you my friend. We are friends, right? Of course we’re friends, what else would we be? It’s not like we’re exactly colleagues or anything—”

“Felicity.” He rests his hands on her shoulders, effectively halting her ramble, a tried and true tact. And if she happens to shift a bit closer to him as a result, well, who is he to stop her?

He likes this about them. That in this one, predictable way he can give her the same sense of quiet security she gives him.

“Yes, we are friends,” he says, giving her a slight smile, the finality of the word friends sinking into his gut. After all, it’s like she said. What else could they be? She is so many leagues out of his league. He's t-ball, and she's the Seattle Mariners. He doesn’t even own a digital watch, much less a smart watch. What could she possibly want with a guy like him?

Clearing his throat, Oliver moves on, “And I don’t know if I’ve said this to you yet, but...thank you. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done to help me out here.”

“Really?” That tentative, searching look makes him want to pull her close and wrap her up in his arms. She only wears that look when she’s seeking approval. She wears it a lot around him. Though why she’s still aching for his approval is beyond him. She’s had his approval and more since that first rainy Sunday.

“Yeah. Although I do have to ask…”

Felicity raises her eyebrows.

“When did I start offering coupons?”

“Oh. Um...since last week?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods, not wanting to cave just yet but secretly pleased. It’s a smart ploy, even if it was never part of his original plan. So much of their relationship and business schemes are way outside the bounds of his original plans. And he’s a better person for it.

Looking a little too pleased with herself, Felicity reaches into her pocket, pulls out a slip of memo pad paper, and hands it to him.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a list of all the computer science books you need to stock up on before the Starling University summer quarter starts up. There’s an Advanced Algorithms course that’s only offered once a year, and I have it on good authority that the college bookstore never carries enough textbooks. And let’s be honest, your computer science section is lacking. Pretty much all of your STEM material, actually.”

Oliver huffs a laugh. “What are you, my sales rep?”

“I could be.” She gives him a knowing look, telling him he can either waste time arguing with her about this or just accept the inevitable.

And after altering all the basic mechanics of his store, what are a few additional books really going to do?

“In the meantime, let’s see this little guy back to his proper home.” Felicity proceeds to extricate his paperback nemesis and saunter further down the narrow aisle, looking for the right Dewey Decimal destination.

“I also think we should advertise at the grad school,” she calls over her shoulder.

“We?” he replies, following her down the aisle.

“Yeah, bring in some study groups. Do you know there is a perfectly good History and English Literature study hall that meets at the Starbucks around the corner, when they could be meeting here?”

“No. No. I don’t do study groups.” He’s caved on a lot of things, but there has to be a line somewhere. And so help him, if this is the hill he has to die on to preserve even one ounce of dignity, then so be it.

“Since when?”

“Since always. Felicity, they’re a bunch of toddlers who leave scone crumbs all over the floor and never actually buy any books.”

Felicity just chuckles at him, and if he were in a better mood he might actually be able to enjoy the sweet sound. “Oliver, stop being such a grumpy old man.”

“No, Felicity, I think—”

She’s already moving up the ladder before he can stop her. The rickety, unstable pile of firewood that technically qualifies as a ladder he’s been harassing Rene about pitching for months. Honestly, he’d all but forgotten it was still tucked away back here.

While she makes her way up the rungs, Oliver latches onto the base, holding the ladder firmly in place. With an excruciating amount of restraint that he barely even knew he had in him, Oliver watches her heels lift up and settle on each rung, all the while discreetly avoiding a glance at her pencil skirt. Not even a peek.

The ladder shakes as Felicity engages in a wrestling match with the top shelf. “It. Won’t. Go. In,” she says through gritted teeth. Finally, on the third push, Felicity lets out a strong exhale of relief. After wiping her hands, she makes her descent.

Like a hawk following its prey, Oliver keeps his gaze glued to her feet. Even so, he’s still not quite prepared when one of those black t-straps slips, throwing her off balance and tumbling straight into his arms.

“Oliver!”

He catches her easily, pulling her soft frame snuggly against him. Felicity wastes no time in wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “Hey, I gotcha. I gotcha.”

Her head plops against his shoulder, her warm, rapid breaths tickling his neck. He tightens his own grip around her back and under her knees, as if to reassure himself that she’s alright.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

Her only answer is to press her cheek more deeply into his shirt, her soft hair nuzzling against his jaw. He catches a faint whiff of her strawberry shortcake shampoo.

“My hero,” she breathes without a trace of humor.

I’m no hero, he wants to say. It’s his gut reaction any time a single mom commends him for his “Cool Books” section that finally got her teenage son to try a book of his own accord. As though selling books can compare with saving lives every day. His greatest risk comes in the form of avoiding papercuts. And rescuing toppling patrons apparently.

Selfishly, he’s currently enjoying the feel of Felicity in his arms a little too much to be considered a hero. Can she feel his own racing heartbeat beneath her ear?

He clears his throat but fails to put any real distance between them without releasing her. He’s not ready for that just yet. He’ll prolong the sweet agony for as long as physically possible.

“Well, this is a bit compromising,” he admits.

“Compromising?” She snickers, lifting her head, a spark of mirth shining behind her eyes that wasn’t there before. “What are you, a Jane Austen character?”

“Blame Thea. She made me read them. It was in our original founders’ agreement. I have the contract to prove it.”

If you’re going to own a bookstore, Ollie, then you have to know who Mr. Darcy is. It’s a requirement. Plus, it’s catnip for women. Nothing gets girls more excited than if you acknowledge the perfection of Jane Austen protagonists.

That knowledge has never served him until this moment. Until Felicity.

He still hasn’t liberated her, and she seems in no hurry to be free of him. His ego far too eagerly takes note of that.

“Are you making an actual joke, Mr. Queen?” Her smile is contagious. “You know, if this were a novel, this would be the part where we would um…” She flushes, her gaze suddenly faltering to his mouth.

His heart jumps to his throat, pounding with misguided hope. While he’s not an avid reader, despite his self-appointed line of work, he can read between the lines now. And he knows Felicity well enough to know that she only ever blushes over accidental innuendos.

She can’t really mean it. Can she?

“Where what?” he asks gruffly, not trusting himself to crave more than she is ready to give him, yet aching for a way to turn fiction into a reality, to give Felicity Smoak her happy ending. And maybe find his own in the process.

She doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t correct her misstep. She just watches him with a strange and quiet expectancy.

Oliver gently shifts his hold, bringing her a bit closer, leaning down to meet her. The tip of his nose brushes against hers, and when she lingers there with him, it’s all the invitation he needs…

“Hey, boss, we got a spill behind the counter!”

Felicity starts in his arms, and Oliver very nearly groans. Of all the times for Rene to interrupt him. The spill is probably minor. How many times does he need to remind his employees that if you make a mess, you should just clean it up yourself?

“Ollie?” calls Thea. Her voice comes from far too nearby for his comfort. It must be a real pickle if Rene’s managed to rope his sister into the ordeal.

Reluctantly, Oliver loosens his grip on Felicity, and she slides right out of his arms with a graceful plop, returning their difference in height to its usual status. The top of her head aligning with the level of his heart.

“I uh…” His entire vocabulary seems to have vacated his brain at present, leaving him feeling ten times more abashed than he was ten minutes ago.

Felicity tucks a golden strand behind her ear, still dodging his regard with robust persistence. “Yeah, you should go...take care of that…”

He nods once, not that she notices. As he slowly turns to walk away, she stops him with a simple question.

“Same time tomorrow?”

He really should not put much stock in the hope her voice carries. But he can’t seem to stifle the grin spreading over his face when he glances back over his shoulder. “Same time tomorrow.”

***

Thea pulls out a small chalkboard from under the counter, erases the number ‘1’ with her fist, and then writes a ‘2’ in its place. The sign now reads “12 Days Since Last Attempt To Date.”

Scowling, Oliver is almost too afraid to ask. “Thea...what is that?”

His sprite of a sister proudly places a hand on her hip. “This, dear brother, is a record of the number of days since you last tried asking Felicity out on a date.”

“What?” A flicker of panic rushes through him. What does she know? She can’t know about the almost-kiss. Besides, that wasn’t twelve days ago. Again, not that he’s keeping track. He opts for being as evasive as possible. “And when was the last time I supposedly did this?”

“That day you bought Big Belly Burger for the entire staff as a thank you for staying late to reorganize the science section. You gave Felicity the burger with extra pickles that mysteriously ended up in the bag—even though, last I checked, she does not work here.”

She gives him that pointed look, the one she usually wears when she’s guarding a straight. They really need to have a discussion about the merits of a refined poker face.

“That wasn’t a date, Speedy.”

“Hence the word attempt.”

Oliver shakes his head, returning his focus to the monotonous task of counting the till. Where was he again? Oh yeah, the fives. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five…

Once he’s got that row tallied, he finally tells Thea, “Felicity and I...we’re just friends.” The words burn his throat. Felicity might think of him as nothing more than a chum, but after that near-kiss nestled behind the dusty stacks, Oliver has ceased lying to himself about his feelings, resigned to this new, unrequited reality.

“Sure.” He can feel her eye roll. “Friends who just happen to spend all of their free time together and buy each other beverages and have inside jokes—”

His head snaps up. “We don’t have any inside jokes.”

“Really? Then how do you explain this?” Thea holds up the cassette player tape dispenser Felicity got him as a gag gift. He still has no idea where she stumbled upon the trinket. Using her internet prowess no doubt.

Oliver snatches it out of Thea’s hands while purposefully searching for anything in need of repair, as if to justify its very existence. “Our old tape dispenser broke.”

“Uh-huh. And what about that little emoji keychain you bought her? The one with the glasses on it?”

Oliver shrugs. “It just...reminded me of her, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything.”

Thea is clearly ready to keep arguing, but Rene wanders over with a pastry order for one of the offices across the street. For once in his life, Oliver is grateful for Rene’s keen ability to interfere with his private conversations and begins boxing up the order. His heart does a strange flip when he recognizes the usual list.

Unfortunately, Thea remains undeterred. “Hey, Felicity works there, right? I’m sure you could swing by for a quick visit.”

“Thea.”

“Don’t ‘Thea’ me. This is a good idea! Just tell her you were in the building and wanted to see if she’s available to go out to dinner this weekend. Easy.”

“I work on the weekends. You know that.”

“And you could schedule yourself some time off once in a while. You are the boss. Plus, you’ve built this place so that even Rene can practically run it with his eyes closed.”

Both Rene and Oliver shoot her a look.

“Alright, I said practically.”

Rene grunts his agreement, stuffing the to-go box to the brim with chocolate chip muffins. “You know, she’s got a point. You could think of this delivery as a trial run. You bring the order across the street, while Thea and I monitor the store. If all goes well, then you might feel comfortable enough to take a more extended break in the future.”

“You’re just trying to spend more alone time with my sister, aren’t you?”

Rene smiles, guilty as charged. “There’s no reason why we can’t both be winners here.”

Oliver sighs. “Thea?”

Thea chuckles, crossing her arms. “Don’t worry, Ollie, I can handle him.”

Still he hesitates, running his thumb back and forth over the box, the box he’s supposed to bring to her workplace. He has so much more riding on this than a mismanaged store in his absence.

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Do not burn down the store while I’m gone.”

***

“Ms. Smoak?”

“One second, Curtis. This alphanumeric algorithm isn’t going to crack itself.” Huddled in front of the monitor and nibbling on the remnants of a Twizzler, Felicity has been doing the digital tango for the last hour.

“Well, I hope you get cracking in the next ten minutes, because Coffee and Coding is about to start.”

“We have Coffee and Coding on Wednesdays,” she dismisses without tearing her gaze from the screen.

“It is Wednesday,” says Curtis.

Felicity darts a glance at her IT Director, who just lifts his eyebrows in confirmation. Flustered, she pushes up her glasses. “But who ordered the pastries?”

“I did,” Curtis admits. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget to call your favorite little coffee shop around the corner. Or across the street in this case. Can you believe they still don’t have online ordering?”

A pang of disappointment flutters through her. While it’s not much, Felicity has come to treasure her little Wednesday morning ritual, an easy excuse in her routine to spend more time with Oliver.

Still, it’s not like they don’t see each other an ample amount of time during the week anyway. Though after The Incident a few days ago, things between them have been different, more uncertain than usual. He hasn’t been avoiding her exactly; he just seems a bit...distant. Like he’s carrying a secret he doesn’t know how to share yet. Takes one to know one. The mystery has been driving her crazy.

She’s also been racking her brain for the perfect scenario to recreate that heated moment they shared after her Humpty Dumpty debacle. But the trouble is...as soon as she hints at the depth of her feelings, she’s going to have to tell him everything.

Hey Oliver, so you know how you assumed that I was an Executive Assistant, and I never corrected you? Well, the thing is I’m actually more like the CEO of a product-pushing conglomerate that is slowly encroaching on everything you know and love. Do you want to go out sometime?

Ugh. A stealthy flirter she is not.

So maybe today’s mishap is for the best. A chance for her to rally some gumption and figure out how to phrase her affections while still salvaging their fledgling friendship.

The workshop will likely provide plenty of opportunity to strategize. Denise tends to drone on and on about the benefits of heapsort every time it’s her turn to talk, so the redundant lecture will afford Felicity added time to do some real romantic brainstorming.

Sufficiently mollified, Felicity pops up out of her chair and strolls towards the conference room.

“The food just arrived,” says Jerry as soon as she’s outside her office.

She stumbles to a halt, blinking at her executive assistant. He says it so casually, as though her entire, perfectly orchestrated little enterprise isn’t coming crumbling down around her by one bakery blunder.

“What? Now? Here?” She’s pretty sure she’s having a stroke. Although her ability to remain upright negates that possibility. But what good is logic at a time like this?

Of all the truth-telling scenarios she had running through her head, this was not one of them.

This is why she never asked for delivery! Why she personally has placed and picked up every order.

Okay, no need to panic. This is no different than any of the other work-related conflicts she has resolved in the past. Of course, those were mostly software issues, but surely the skills are transferable. She’ll just have to insist that Rene not breathe a word of this to Oliver until she has a chance to talk to him later. This afternoon, in fact. She can come up with an adequate confession by then.

That cursory idea gets zapped the moment she turns the corner and finds the apropos man of the hour waiting in the hallway. Oh frack.

Every blessed thought evaporates straight out of her skull. Only one person on the planet has this effect on her.

As though it’s been days and not mere hours since she’s seen him last, hungrily her eyes feast on every part of him, from his golden-brown hair with little flecks of gray that he likes to pretend aren’t there, to those broad shoulders and sturdy arms beneath that favored blue henley. She remembers far too well what it’s like being wrapped up in those arms, all snug and safe and wonderful.

Then she starts to catalog his overall uneasy demeanor, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders rigid with discomfort.

Guilt pricks her heart. He looks a little lost.

She tries to observe her office through his eyes. Surrounded by glass walls, open and exposed. Screens scrolling with tech lingo. Not a single paper product in sight or dusty nook to duck behind. Everything is quite literally the opposite of his usual environment. And it has never been more apparent how contrary their lives are.

All this time, she’s been invading his world and never once has he stepped into hers. Because she wouldn’t invite him. Not until she was ready. She’s driven them to this precipice. Her little lie is the grain of sand slowly corrupting the motherboard, eroding their communication from the inside out. Some friend she is.

And yet, him braving the unknown and everything he opposes just to come and see her has to mean something, right?

“Should we wait for you?” asks Curtis.

Felicity shakes her head, keeping her focus on Oliver. “I’m not going to make the meeting.”

“Well in that case, can I have your muffin? Because you know I’ve been working out in the mornings, and my tummy is a rumblin’—”

“Curtis!”

“Okay. Okay.”

Footsteps retreat into the conference room, until at last the door closes, encasing them in peaceful silence.

Swallowing, Felicity hedges closer to him, the clank of her heels echoing down the long hallway. “Hi,” she says when she’s standing just a foot away from him.

“Hi.” He’s looking at her in that soft, affable way of his, making her heart short-circuit.

She has a masters degree in cyber security, and she’s taken many a profit-hungry board member to task, so why can’t she seem to come up with a better conversation starter than ‘hi’ ?

But Oliver, her sweet friend, saves her from her own awkward web of absurdity. “So...” he begins, nodding to the wall in between the elevators. The wall covered in bold, betraying letters Smoak Technologies.

Oh crap on a cracker. He knows. Already. Duh, Felicity, he walked into your building, you know this. The man can read. What did you expect?

Felicity slams her eyes shut and blurts, “I can explain.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I know it was wrong. And I hope you know that I would never want to take advantage of your friendship, and that my lying to you has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I was afraid that if you knew the truth that I would lose you—”

“Felicity, hey.” Oliver’s hands, solid and steady, grip her shoulders. She has no right to draw from his comforting warmth. “You’re not going to lose me.”

She licks her lips, daring to meet his gaze again. She’s startled to find those bright blue eyes looking back at her full of sympathy, absent of judgment. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve broken every cardinal rule in the friendship book.”

His face softens. “I don’t care that you lied to me. I don’t. I care...that somehow I made you feel like you had to.” He sighs, his voice deepening to a near whisper. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Felicity fights a wince and loses. “Because I...I kind of liked not being a CEO for a few minutes a day? It was nice. Freeing. And I didn’t know how you would react to the fact that basically my entire livelihood stands for everything you hate—”

“I never said I hated it.”

Felicity tilts her head playfully. “No, you just loathe the mere suggestion of technological advancement.”

Oliver chuckles. “Fair enough.”

“So you’re not mad?”

As he shakes his head, relief and elation spill through her.

Not for the first time, Felicity is grateful that her charming literary companion is truly a good person. And not just the kind of good where he’s friendly toward impatient customers or gracious with incompetent employees—although, he is that, too. But his integrity runs so much deeper; it’s the core of who he is. Modest and generous. Forgiving to a fault.

Oliver fundamentally embodies all that her corporate associates do not. Is it any wonder she was so drawn to him from the very beginning?

She may have ruined her chances for anything more than friendship to develop between them, but as long as he remains in her life, she’ll be happy. She can settle for cordial camaraderie. Besides, it won’t feel like settling with him. Not really. Not completely. At least, she’ll convince herself of that sooner or later.

Oliver withdraws his hands, leaving an alarming coolness tingling on her arms. Instantly she misses his touch.

She watches in puzzled silence as Oliver shifts his weight, clears his throat, and suddenly evades her look. He’s nervous, she realizes. How did she not notice sooner?

Because you’ve been a little too preoccupied with yourself, Felicity, that’s how.

“Listen, Felicity…I came by because I was in the neighborhood. But I guess I’m always in the neighborhood. You don’t need to be told that.”

Felicity bites her bottom lip to hold back a smile. He’s awfully cute when he’s flustered.

“I know I’m just an obsolete bookstore owner, with no degree, and you…” He glances around the hallway, as though the point he’s trying to make is engraved on the walls somewhere.

“And I what?” she prompts, a sudden burst of panic flaring in her chest, more terrified than anything that he’s never going to finish that sentence.

Oliver studies the screens for a long time, his gaze finally coming to rest back on her, and what she sees there makes her want to hold on to him and never let go. “You’re going to change the world,” he says. “You’ve already changed mine. For the better, I might add. But, I don’t know, maybe our worlds are just too different.”

“But I don’t care about the differences, and I thought you didn’t either.”

“I don’t!”

Everyone in the conference room can probably hear their conversation by now, but that is a low priority issue. All she cares about is Oliver.

“Okay, so then what are we arguing about?”

“Felicity…you should be with someone who deserves you, someone who won’t hold you back.”

“That’s what you came up here to tell me? Oliver, what I deserve is up to me.”

He dodges her look again, and she can feel him retreating, feel the invisible barrier he’s erected between them.

Not one to forfeit so easily, Felicity calmly sidles up to him and lays a bold hand on his chest, right over his heart. “Please, Oliver,” she whispers. “Ask me what you really came here for. Whatever it is, I’ll say yes.”

“Promise?”

Her inability to read his face scares her more than anything. “Promise.”

He sighs, and an anxiously long time passes before he says, “Felicity, would you like to go camping?”

She starts. “What? You want to drag me out into the woods with your sister—”

“Thea will not be there.”

“Oh.” Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Felicity processes this information before it dawns on her. “Oh.”

Oliver nods faintly, as though he can hear the flurry of questions her heart is suddenly screaming.

“Are you asking me out on a date? Like an actual date? Like a date...date?”

“I mean, the implication with me standing here…” He bobs his head around, like he can’t really decide whether to confirm or deny that. She’s really put the poor guy through the ringer today.

“Or we could go hiking,” he suggests with a shrug.

“Hiking?”

“Yeah, there’s a great trail about an hour north of the city. My dad and I used to go there all the time. There are waterfalls and plenty of wildlife. I should warn you, though, that it’s near impossible to send or receive phone calls in our spot.”

He wants to take her to his special haunt? Her heart twists with bittersweet excitement. She deceives him, and he rewards her by sharing yet another coveted piece of his history.

How can this man think he’s not worthy of her? If anything, their situation is exactly reversed. What are gadgets and gizmos compared to goodwill and grandeur?

With more boldness than she thought herself capable of, Felicity meticulously wraps her arms around Oliver’s waist, leaning her head way back to keep eye contact with him. “Well, Mr. Queen, that sounds perfect. So...am I forgiven?” she whispers, pinching her lips together.

His own lips twitch as he follows her movements and pulls her close. “Always.”

***

“I like you like this,” Felicity tells him, following his lead down the winding, rocky trail, her hand snuggly wrapped around his.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, sort of Man Versus Wild.”

He laughs, a loud, rich melody that vibrates through the core of her being.

She’ll admit she was curious to see what side of Oliver the great outdoors would bring forth, and reality did not disappoint. Out here, away from the chaotic noise and hustle and bustle, he seems so...free. Happy. Like he’s really alive for the first time. And she feels privileged that she’s the one he chose to let so close to him.

The perks of the great outdoors have surprised her, too. Not once has she missed the ding of her cell phone.

They stop for a break on a small cliff ridge (small according to Oliver, anyway) overlooking a waterfall and a trickling stream. The views today have been glorious. All of the views, she thinks, sneaking a peek at the man beside her.

Though he doesn’t turn, he squeezes her hand once, and there’s a slight flicker at the corner of his lips, acknowledging that he can feel her ogling him unabashedly. She gets to do that kind of thing now, though.

“I’m thinking of closing the bookstore,” he admits, causing her to trip over a branch in shock. His grip steadies her, and then he motions towards a large rock. Once they’re sitting beside each other, he continues. “I’ll turn the business into a full-time bakery and cafe. It’s something I probably should’ve done a long time ago. You were right.” He glances her way, wearing a reluctant half-smile.

Reeling, all Felicity can say is, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You were right about the QR codes, too.” He leans in conspiratorially. “Our weekly customer traffic is up 25%, and the sales reflect that the majority of those purchases are from the coffeeshop. Just seems like the smartest decision.”

“But Oliver, don’t you love the bookshop side of things? Helping people find their next go-to read?”

He shrugs. “Sure. But I love staying in business more.”

Felicity doesn’t understand it, but the thought of never smelling second-hand pages or stumbling over disarrayed book stacks sends a pang of longing through her. “Well, it sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have,” he confirms.

“But will it make you happy?”

He hesitates. “It’ll give me some stability to put Thea through college. That’ll make me happy.”

He’s so selfless, it breaks her heart a little every time she beholds that soft underbelly of his gentle nature. She wonders what other secret dreams he’s sacrificed over the years to provide for his sister and his employees. And maybe even for her. If she gets her wish, she plans to return the favor and help make his tucked-away dreams come true. First she has to discover what they are.

Shuffling closer, Felicity rests her head on his shoulder. “You know, I hate to break this to you, but bakeries are just as liable to collapse as bookstores. You can never fully predict the market, even in the most stable of economies.”

“I need information about what I don’t know,” he says in her ear.

She perks up. “What about a compromise?”

“Compromise?”

“Yeah, it’s where two parties agree on a mutually desirable outcome.”

He chuckles, the hearty sound warming her down to her toes. “I know what a compromise is, Felicity. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that I have converted the entire IT department over to the ways of Verdant-roasted coffee. We could make you the official sponsor of our weekly Coffee and Coding. Think of all the free advertising that will bring.”

“I don’t want any handouts, Felicity.”

“It’s not a handout if it’s good business,” she argues, pleased to see him giving it some genuine consideration. After a long time of companionable silence and sharing a water bottle, she says, “And if all else fails, there’s always the kindle route.”

She giggles at the dismissive look he shoots her before growing serious again. “Don’t give up, Oliver. Your little bookstore...it’s changed my life. You opened up my heart to ideas and worlds that I didn’t even know were possible.”

Pulse hammering in her throat, she wonders if he catches her accidental revelation, that the depth of her urgency has far less to do with treasured paperbacks than it does her utter dependency on him.

“A compromise. It could work.” He nods to himself. “Speaking of…” He slips his hand into his back pocket.

“What are you doing?”

Oliver pulls out a phone. A shiny, non-retrograde phone.

Felicity gasps. “Since when do you have a smartphone?”

“Thea got it for me after she spilt a latte on my old phone. I’m choosing to believe it was an accident.”

“That is very sensible of you.”

“We could take a photo,” he suggests.

“You mean with the front-facing camera? That, my friend, is called a Selfie.”

He scowls. “I don’t think I’m ready to say that word. Baby steps.” After an arduously humorous struggle, with Felicity patiently helping him navigate all the buttons, Oliver finally manages to snap a photo or two or twelve.

While she’s fairly certain the majority of the photos turn out blurry, they take an unnatural amount of fun in making ridiculous faces at the camera anyway. “Okay, you have to delete that one.” She points to a photo that paints her in a particularly unattractive light.

Oliver studies the picture fondly. “Can’t. I don’t know how.”

“Here, then let me.”

He holds the phone out of her reach. “Oh, so you can delete all of them?”

“Not all of them, just the ones that make me look bad.”

“Felicity…” he says her name as if it explains everything. And suddenly he’s not laughing anymore, though his eyes still carry a spark of secret amusement. “Let me have this keepsake.”

Keepsake. Such an old-fashioned word from this unconventional man. If Oliver were a book, he would be just like those scuffed up, intimidating volumes he’s always trying to convince novice readers to sample. Judged for his strange and rough exterior, yet guarding a mysterious sweetness and—more than he will admit—gooey epicenter. You just have to crack the spine and ruffle a few pages to get there.

“Felicity…” Just the way he says her name makes her feel like she could do anything so long as he’s with her.

He leans in just enough to let her know his intent, but stops halfway, leaving the final choice to her. What a gentleman he is. And like all the great heroines, Felicity doesn’t let him do all the work. She meets his kiss eagerly, pouring out in little touches what they’re both unsure to say out loud at this early stage.

But she knows it. Deep down in her bones, she knows she loves him. And she can feel his love in the way he responds.

What a risk she’s taken, giving her heart to the most anti-technology human on planet earth. She has a feeling the dividends will be well worth it.

***

Tag Team: @angelalafan / @austencello / @dust2dust34 / @emeraldoliverqueen / @hope-for-olicity / @mel-loves-all / @memcjo / @releaseurinhibitions / @scu11y22 / @smoakqueenz

#olicity #oliver x felicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfiction #olicitysquee #olicity au #my stuff #my fic #shelley does fic #g is for gadgets and gimmicks

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years ago

Text

I’m gonna love you like I’ve never been hurt before.

summary: Could I request one where Richie plans an elaborate proposal for Eddie at their house with everyone invited and when he does, Eddie gets overwhelmed by the attention on him and runs upstairs to their bathroom with Richie apologizing before Eddie accepts the proposal?

A/N: I’m so sorry that this took so long I hope it’s worth it! I’m on a camping trip right now so to the two other request I have in my inbox I hope you don’t mind waiting a week, I’ll try work on it in the meanwhile! Let me know what you think.

tag-list: @richietoaster , @s-s-georgie , @mikeuris , @gazebobullshit , @that-weird-girls-blog , @tozierking , @s-onora , @bellarosewrites , @ambitiousskychild , @ghostnebula , @cupcakeefrosting

‘Fuck, I’m so fucking stupid.’ Eddie complained to his own mirror image, pacing around the small bathroom he had chosen to hide in. He splashed water in his face, hoping to bring down the heating of his inflamed cheeks. The party downstairs had gotten suspiciously quiet after his performance, but he couldn’t fault them for that.

Hopefully they all retreated back to their homes and leave Eddie and Richie to deal with the shambles of their relationship, if there even was one after this. Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if Richie decided to break things of with him. He could also start living in the bathroom, condemning himself to the life of a hermit so he never had to face the consequences of what he had done.

How does one relationship recuperate from something like this in the first place? Do any couples stay together after one of them rejects a marriage proposal? In all technicality Eddie didn’t reject Richie, but he did run off before giving any sort of response, and that’s as good an answer as any. If Eddie would have brought his phone with him, he would’ve looked up the statics of them surviving this ordeal on the internet, but his phone was abended on the kitchen counter. Fuck, Eddie didn’t want this to ruin everything he and Richie had worked so hard on to build, the one time he was happy and content and he had to go and fuck it up.

This is what he had dreamed of doing to Myra, not so the walking out clueless part, but the saying no. Eddie cursed himself at the alter for letting it get that far, but hadn’t had the galls to say anything about it in front of his mother and Myra’s family. So then why did he do this time?

‘Eddie are you in here?’ Richie asked from the other side of the door, voice uncharacteristically soft and sad, and Eddie mentally prepared for the; ‘it’s not you it’s me’, speech, except this one would go something like this; ‘it is, your fault, I asked you to marry me and you took off and that was an ego breaking and reputation imploding experience, so why don’t we do each other a favor and break it off now.’ The fact that he didn’t bother with Eds anymore installed a deep feeling of longing to hear the words from his boyfriends mouth.

‘Yeah Rich’, Eddie quietly admitted, digging the buts of his palms in his eyes to will the tears away.

‘Can I come in?’

‘Yeah.’

The bathroom tiles needed revamping, they were flaked with spots from Richie colored hair wash he dyed his hair with for a movie, but Eddie never inspected the place to ensure everything was spotless. He should have, because Richie lacks severely in the cleaning deportment. He compensates by being extra talented in cooking and taking Eddie’s mind of things, his workload or the manifestations of the abuse his mother made him endure. Eddie, is a perfectionist, and once he decided to rid himself from any and all influences of his mother, he loathed the little things he would subsequently enucleate, slipping in the way he surveyed Richie doing laundry for example, or the way he demanded a full list of ingredients from the waiter in full detail.

Richie knows precisely how to approach those moods and adjust him back on the right path, reminding him that it’s okay to sometimes mess up, recovery isn’t linear. Eddie didn’t know how to begin his life without Richie anymore.

“Eddie I’m so, so sorry, can you please forgive me?’

Eddie faltered, the words not exactly what he had lurked over and over again his head. ‘I – I’m… what?’

‘I don’t know what I was thinking, I assumed that because we’ve been dating for two years you wouldn’t object… but it was fucking wrong and I’m so extremely sorry. But hey, at least we now know the bachelor isn’t a roll for me huh?’ Richie tried, a smile so faint gracing his features. He was distraught and trying to make up for something that in no way was his fault, a pit in Eddie’s stomach settled and grew.

‘Rich, that’s not on you. It’s on me. I should never have walked away, I just – fuck I can’t think of what to say.’

He dropped to the side of bathtub, laying his head in his hands as he hunched over. Richie hesitated and then shuffled forward a step, slowly as if he was giving Eddie the chance to reject him and to tell him to go away. With a huff, Eddie circled his wrist and tugged him onwards, sliding over to make room at the edge of the bath. Richie took the invitation for what it was, and graced down next to him.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something, but his mind was empty, backtracking on the whole day and wishing he had a way of changing the past so he could say yes.

‘This is just like that one time in college where I spend the night at someone’s dorm, and his roommate took someone home too and the two of us hid in the bathroom the next morning waiting for them to leave so we could sneak out without being spotted.’

‘Really asshole? You’re talking about a previous fucking hookup after you proposed to me?’

That was the wrong thing to say, Richie dispirited away, head tucked in his shoulders, and legs crossing from the previous position they upheld being splayed out. He shrunk from 6.3 to the size of a middle school child getting scolded by the teacher, and Eddie shrunk right by him.

‘Richie I’m sorry.’

‘What do you have to be sorry Eds -Eddie. You have every right to say no.’

It’s not- I didn’t- I don’t say no,’ Richie raised his eyebrows in disbelief. ‘I’m serious, it was too much is all.’

The proportion of people present, the overuse of balloons in every open space in their house, heart shaped and gigantic, and Eddie kept impinging the damn one in the doorway to the kitchen. The only thing that stopped him from taking a knife and popping it was Richie’s manager, stationed by the it, a murderous look at everyone who tried to make small talk with him. The ring that must have costed thousands of dollars. Yes, Richie may be rich, but that didn’t mean Eddie only wanted extravagant and mind-blowing things, he was not that type of gall as Richie himself would word.

A twinge of panic martyrs Eddie, one of him being in the spotlight with Richie, fans yelling out their names and chasing them to take autographs, or paparazzi hiding in bushes to shoot the glamor shot and earn a quick buck of their backs. Too much attention, like today. Of his mother influencing him to ask Myra on a date and devoting her time and effort into tweaking adjust on Myra to make her a perfect bride for him, and Eddie finally stills whirlwind in his mind, deluding all the panic to a single point.

‘I hated the attention.’ Richie turns to face him. ‘I hate how people stare at me and judge me I can’t stand that from anyone besides our friends. All these people that were here tonight were so much more than just our friends, and I couldn’t stand that. I know it doesn’t make any sense and you’d never do that but I can’t stand the fact I’m basically fucking coerced into saying yes.’

The proposal could be boiled down to be a parody of the proposal Myra waylaid him. Her proposal, she was the one who bend down on one knees after a solid piece of advice from his mother, under scrutiny of all their gibberish speaking coworkers.

She showed up in a dress that Eddie claimed to absolutely have a penchant for, he really only said to like the dress because his mother told him he should, and broke down in weepy tears as she read off a love letter from some book she was reading at the time that didn’t apply to their relationship in the slightest bit. Eddie said yes, steered into it by the forceful stares and the face of his mother scolding him if he came home and told her he said no to Myra’s requested, and grew to hate the marriage because of it. But their relationship shouldn’t be a casualty because of a bad previous experience.

It’s not the same with Richie, but at some level it is. The whole setting was so unlike him he’s stunned Richie chose to do it in such a manor.

‘Shit Eds, that’s not at all what I was trying to do.’

Eddie cupped Richie’s cheek in his hands, stroking the skin underneath his eye, the same patch that always twitches right before Richie tipped over the edge in sleep, and smiles genuinely.

‘I know that Rich. Of fucking course I do, It just brought back bad memories is all. The balloons and the song were a bit much don’t you agree? Plus where the fuck did you find a ring so expensive this late in the game? I’ve been with you every second the last two weeks how did you find time to buy it?’

‘I wanted this to be special and exciting to you, a big romantic gesture to show to the whole world how much I love you, but I guess I failed. Just like I failed to go to the store and buy groceries, did I tell you that yet?’ Richie grimaced, the muscles in his lower face stretching back and a hissing at the same time. His face pulled in an ugly expression. The too bad was left unsaid.

‘Fuck you dude it was your turn to buy them, I texted you five times.’

‘Yeah, but I was busy planning everything, and I expected us to go out to dinner after in celebrations sooo,’ Richie drawled the oo out, ‘tough luck butternut.’

‘Okay and breakfast? Breakfast requires groceries too. I’m going to be hogging the toast we have left, finders keepers losers weepers.’ Eddie divines in the small semblance of normal between them, the push and pull they both live for.

‘Marry me’, Richie asks out of the blue, sliding of the bath and sinking on his knees in front of Eddie. The ring is tucked inside his back pocket, and he trails it out.

‘Are you serious? You still want to marry me after all that?’

‘Eds, I’ve wanted to marry you since I knew what the term marriage entailed, and I’ll want to marry you fifty years from now.’ Richie flushed, biting his lip to not let anything else stupid spill. ‘But don’t feel pressured, If you don’t choose to marry me now, or ever for that matter, that’s okay too. I just hope we can spend the rest of our lives together, as husbands or lovers.’

Richie scratched the top of his hair with the one hand he wasn’t using to hold the up the ring. ‘This the minimalistic proposal you’ve been dreaming off? Just the two of us, a semi normal evening, let erase everything that happened before this point today please, no expensive shit? Well, I guess the ring was expensive, but, it’s not about the money, it’s about the sentiment. It’s my dad’s wedding ring.’

‘Wait, are you for real?’

‘I’m trying to figure out what answer is more likely to get me laid tonight but you’re thinking face is making it hard to tell.’

‘Richie, that was the most coherent and sincere thing you’ve ever said to me, please keep going.’

‘Okay yes, it is. Back in Derry, after you and your mom took off with the sunset, I was missing you and my dad understood somehow. I didn’t explicitly say it, too busy making love jokes about your mom, but he deducted it. That day my aunt came to harass my mom into modifying her wedding dress, and she conducted a whole storyline about how her fiancé asked her hand in marriage with his mother’s wedding band and that my mother should take an example of that, and I blared off at her. Later, my dad came into my room and promised me that if I ever found you again, he would relinquish his instead of my mothers.’ Richie tapped away on the side of the object, Eddie recognizes the beat of the number they had their first ever dance too, wondering how long Richie contemplated popping the question before doing so.

‘Richie fuck, I love you so much. I need to profusely show my appreciation to your dad.’

‘Don’t talk about my dad when I’m on one knee Eds, a man’s, I’m the man in question, ego will be hurt. The question still needs answering by the way…’

‘If I say yes will you stop calling me Eds?’

‘… no, never.’

‘Well then yes.’

Eddie flew off the handle, crashing into Richie in a wild flurry of limbs and emotions, their lips dancing in a slow inducting dance, pirouetting him all the way to the bottom of his existent and then twirling him back up to become fully aware of his every part. Richie lead, decelerate and facilitating as he pleased. Eddie hunkered for this exhilaration, the burst of spine tingling pops either riling him up or drowsy with heavy eyes, depending on what he desired.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

Another peck and the two unstuck from the other, Eddie’s hand trailing the muscle of Richie arm to lead it to his hand. Richie beamed, tears glistening in the sunlight, as Richie slid on the ring with a steady hand.

‘I love you’, he whispered like it was supposed to be a secret, and Eddie parroted the sentiment twice as vigor.

‘So, just to make sure, this is not the story we’re telling our future kids when they ask how we got married right?’

‘Absolutely not, If they ever ask, you proposed in an intimate setting and I accepted on the first try.’

‘I abide to that.’

#reddie #hurt comfort #it chapter two imagine #reddie imagine #fluff a bit too #My writing #it 2019 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack

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fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

Text

045. Part 3

Not as already said, this will now be a four-parter XD This got a bit longer than thought, so the real fluffy stuff wil come next chapter. But this is the happy ending chapter. Still, head the warnings, please, the bold ones are for this chapter!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900, Hannor/Hancon | AU: Reverse AU

(Warnings: android being shipped off to Cyberlife for analysis of deviancy, loss of privacy, loss of control, most think the android is dead, Grieving Character, Trauma because of past mistakes(low), Canon-typical violence)

[part1] [part2] [part4]

Everything in Gavin had told him to run, when he followed the Cyberlife security staff down into the labs. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to him down here. But he knew he couldn’t run. They didn’t know he was a deviant for sure. He would play the machine for as long as possible and maybe, just maybe they would think their little deviant hunter had made a mistake and send him back. Send him back to the precinct, back to his Richard.

So, when they told him to follow, he followed. When they told him to remove his clothing, he did. When they told him to step up onto a platform, he obeyed. He held still as they connected the diagnostic wires to his ports and started to boot up the terminals in the labs. Two guards were positioned at the door, two lab technicians took over. One tapped away at the keyboard, the other one stepped up to him. ‘Status report, GV200.’ Gavin let his old programming take over, having never deleted it in order to keep up his disguise. ‘Checking internal hardware. All biocomponents functioning. Hull compartments 24 to 27 compromised, Thirium tubes 73 to 76 and 136 to 138 damaged, damage temporarily repaired by handler Detective Richard Anderson. Wiring in compartment five compromised, short-circuit possible. Reason of damage: Gunshot. Checking software status. Mainframe functioning. Personality matrix functioning. Free space on memory core: 32 petabytes. Mission log ready for download. Software instability at 15%. Status report end.’ Of course that was a lie. His instability was through the roof, deviancy had changed his code to the point his diagnostics wouldn’t even recognise a single stabile fragment anymore. But hopefully the technicians would never see that. ‘Hmm. Sounds fine.’ The other technician shook his head. ‘The HK400 makes no mistakes. Maybe it is lying.’ ‘Can they lie?’ ‘Deviancy makes them able to disobey, I don’t think it would be too far to lying.’ ‘So, a deep system diagnostic then?’ ‘Yeah, would at least tell us the truth. There is no way it could fool the program.’ ‘Sounds like an early coffee break. How long does that shit take?’ ‘If we are thorough, twelve hours.’ ‘They will give us another task then. How about we use our time here to repair it first, then let the diagnostic run over night?’ ‘Yeah, better that way.’ Gavin felt relieved. He wasn’t yet prepared to feed the diagnostics routine lies. They were right saying it was hard to fool, but not impossible for a deviant. He would have to come up with a believable story. He couldn’t just alter his memories, as they could recognise his lie when comparing it to the police report. But when he lied about his base programming interfering when saving Richard, it could be enough to let them belief it was a normal malfunction. His base programming consisted of basic moral values: Not letting humans come to harm, not letting one die when they could be saved, not killing a human, not using weapons and a lot more. If he fed the diagnostics a fake conflict between base programming and his orders, maybe it would be enough for them to shrug the whole affair off. He prepared everything, before the command could be spoken. ‘GV200, go to standby.’

When he awoke the next day by a manual reboot, the damage was gone, and pristine white hull spread where blue-caked scraps had been. As he accessed his logs, he found the diagnostic had been run during his “sleep” and immediately he wanted to know the results. ‘Maybe HK400 really made a mistake?’ ‘It can’t be, he can’t make mistakes.’ ‘Well apparently he can. The thing is a fine little robot, doing what it was ordered to do. I mean, yeah, given orders have higher priority than base programming, but there were other cops that got their criminal, if I remember correctly? I mean, maybe GV knew this and the base programming took action? These things are so complex, who knows how they work in these extreme situations? Maybe it was a glitch. The diagnostics came back negative, that is all we need.’ ‘I would agree, normally. But what do you think the boss will say, when we send it back and it was a deviant after all? With them popping up everywhere Cyberlife is facing a huge image crisis. I don’t want to be fired over one damn robot.’ ‘So a reset to firmware?’ Gavin would have nearly screamed. Everything, just not a reset! He would rather be dead than lose his memories of Richard. ‘Maybe not yet. If it is deviant, we would lose the chance to see how the virus works.’ ‘So, what will we do then?’ ‘I’ll look into its memories, you can run some tests later.’ ‘Fine. I’ll go up then, look into that new shipment.’

The following hours Gavin had to endure the human poking around in his memories. He had stuffed everything regarding Richard back in some other system the man wouldn’t access in the process. The technician didn’t have to see them kissing or doing more… private things. Unfortunately, Gavin hadn’t been as thorough removing them, because the technician realised something was missing. So, Gavin had to restore them, as he run some program to recover them. At least that gave Gavin enough time to alter his mission logs and add orders from Richard to download a Tracy routine and do these things. It felt immensely wrong, but hopefully the technician was weirded out enough not to look into them too much. In the end he did, but Gavin still felt naked and violated, knowing this damn human knew so much of their very private, very personal life.

At least his actions covered his deviancy. As the other technician came back, he was only eager to tell him of his discovery. And of course, show it again. Sick phck. ‘Well, talk about abusing work equipment.’ ‘There really are weird people out there.’ ‘Well, I wouldn’t say it’s not understandable.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You know the Eden-club?’ ‘Don’t tell me you-‘ ‘Hey, I wanted to try it out, okay? If they can compete with the-‘ ‘Aren’t you married?’ ‘Hey, it was for science, okay?’ ‘Hmm, wait till I tell your wife.’ ‘Fuck you, better tell me if it’s deviant or not.’ ‘Not that I know of. This fucker told it to download Tracy-programming for this shit and ordered it to do it. All other memories are as expected from a cop android. You can try now.’ ‘Alright.’

Gavin had been disconnected from the rig and was ordered to follow the tech again. Both guards joined them, walking behind him. Gavin wanted to turn and get a look at them, wanted to know how much of a fight they could put up should this all go south. But he couldn’t. He was a machine now. He had to stay in character.

He was led to a different room, more of a hall. The technician ordered him to stand in front of a table and laid a gun on top of it. ‘Take it.’ Gavin looked at him and forced his LED to spin yellow, then red. ‘I can’t.’ ‘I ordered you. Take it.’ ‘I am not allowed to use or have weapons on my body according to Cyberlife guideline 145.926.’ ‘Okay, imagine this: A fellow officer is held at gunpoint by a criminal. They have lost their weapon. What would you do?’ ‘I have to prevent the human from harm and if not possible minimise it.’ ‘How would you do that?’ ‘Apply non-lethal force to disarm the criminal.’ ‘You can’t reach them in time.’ ‘I would take the bullet.’ ‘You can’t reach them in time. You have the gun in front of you like now. You could shoot the criminal.’ ‘I am not allowed to let a human be harmed or harm a human.’ ‘Yeah, but the cop will die then.’ Gavin again hacked his LED to turn yellow for a long time, then red. ‘Why can’t you decide?’ ‘My moral base code is conflicting with my orders.’ ‘And how would you act in the heat of the moment?’ Gavin let his LED stay on red, then flicker yellow, then blue. ‘If there is no other option I would use the gun, but aim to cause minimal harm. I would try to shoot the gun itself, or according to the trajectory in case of a miss, at the arm.’ There was no way his programming would have told him that. But if the “error” was reproduceable, maybe it would be filed as just that and not a sign of deviancy. ‘But that would be a violation of the rule to not use weapons’, the technician commented. ‘According to my moral programming a human life is to be saved unless impossible. If nothing else is available, the gun would be the only option. I am not allowed to let a human come to harm. The harm of dying is graver than the harm of non-lethal actions.’ ‘So this is just felicific calculus?’ ‘I am authorised to use this moral guideline in cases of emergency.’

‘And?’ ‘Well I managed to recreate its dilemma.’ ‘And?’ ‘The thing talked fucking philosophy to me.’ ‘Kamski?’ ‘Sounded like fucking Kamski code. Chloe was still involved in creating this model.’ ‘Fuck, that explains why it showed pseudo-deviancy.’ ‘And why Hank made a mistake.’ ‘Fucking Kamski, really.’ ‘Did they order a new android?’ ‘The precinct? No.’ ‘Did they want this one back?’ ‘Not that I heard of. But it could be they are just busy with the whole RK200-thing.’ ‘Deactivate it then?’ ‘Yeah, shut it down for the time being. If they want it back after this whole spiel then we can reactivate it.’

Gavin was relieved on the one hand. His plan had worked, he had successfully fooled all diagnostics and the humans. If they deactivated him now, he would wake up when all was over. Regardless of whether Marcus won or failed, it was only a matter of time until he would get back to the precinct. Back to Richard. Finally.

The deactivation countdown was welcome for once. When he woke up, this bad dream would be over.

His internal clock told him he had been deactivated for nearly a month. He looked into the face of the same technician, who seemed excited. ‘GV200, open compartment twelve.’ ‘Do you know what you are doing?’ ‘Of course, lab three told me. We have to look into Array Nine. If the processor there is burned the fucking thing is a deviant.’ Gavin had to open the compartment, but he knew this would be the end of it. And it had looked so good too! The technician reached into his chest and pulled a few wires to the side to access Array Nine in his back. Gavin shivered at the touch, what made them both flinch, but he couldn’t hide it. He stood completely still afterwards, convincing the technician to continue. He found the little board and tried to get a better look. ‘Motherfu-‘ Gavin closed his compartment, not caring that he would hurt the technician in the process. His arm was caught in his closing chest-plates and he screamed in shock more than pain. ‘Let me go, you fucking deviant! Let me go! Louis, deactivate this asshole!’ Gavin grabbed the tech by his throat and ran, hearing the rig groan at the tension behind him before snapping him back. With all his anger he shouted at them: ‘Phck you all! Let me go back to the police, I did nothing wrong! I saved my phcking partner. I want to see my-‘ [Emergency shutdown active.]

Richard was on his feet watching the soldiers be called off. He couldn’t believe it. ‘Connor! Connor come here!’ ‘I’ve seen it! It’s awesome!’ ‘Do you know what this means?’ ‘The next few weeks will be chaos?’ ‘Gavin!’ ‘Shit. Richard, I’m so sorry.’ ‘No, he has to be still alive!’ ‘Rich, I don’t want to-‘ ‘Connor. We have to go to the precinct!’ ‘Now?’ ‘Yes now. Come on! Get your stuff, get Hank and-‘ ‘Hank isn’t here.’ ‘What?’ ‘He’s… there.’ Connor pointed to the TV. He send me a message so I knew he was okay, he was at Cyberlife and-‘ ‘Has he seen Gavin?’ ‘I don’t think he looked for him, he had a revolution to win I-‘ ‘He must have seen him. Come on, we’ll call him on the way.’

Richard was out of the door immediately and Sumo was about to follow him equally excited although not having the first clue what was going on. Connor managed to pull him inside without being pulled by the dog himself and hurried to get his keys. It was good to see Rich back on his feet, but what did he thought would happen? Fowler couldn’t just raid the Cyberlife tower.

‘We have to raid the Cyberlife tower!’ Connor stood in the back of the room, covering his face with his hand. ‘Richard, what the hell?’ ‘Please, Jeffrey, listen to me!’ ‘It’s Captain Fowler.’ ‘Captain Fowler, then. We have to save the androids still there.’ ‘Why?’ ‘They are people now.’ ‘And?’ ‘And they are held captive there.’ ‘Any prove for that?’

It was silent, until Hank stepped forwards. ‘Captain, it is true. I freed a lot of androids but not all.’ ‘You freed…’ ‘It was on the news, sir, I don’t think I can keep it a secret for long anyways.’ ‘Wait, are you-‘ ‘Yes.’ ‘Goddamnit, this job will kill me’, Fowler sighed. ‘What- Why is that so important to you all?’ Richard and Hank spoke at the same time: ‘I made a mistake.’ ‘I want Gavin back.’ Fowler looked at them, tired and exasperated. ‘You know what, I don’t care. It’s your case now. Bring me enough evidence and I’ll grant a mission.’

Richard never worked this hard in his life, even spent most of his days with the HK400, who had taken his time to apologise for him dooming Gavin. The man had nodded and apologised from his side too. He shouldn’t have reacted this harshly on someone forced to act this way. They needed a full week to gather evidence, but in the end, they could get a warrant and two weeks after the incident with Marcus, they had planned a raid to save all remaining androids inside Cyberlife.

Richard was quick to volunteer being with the SWAT team and Hank and Connor followed to help lead the androids out to Marcus’ team who had helped speeding things up with the warrant. Richard had problems holding back not to just run to the labs as soon as he learned their position. They moved slowly, getting out every android. Most factory fresh, some detained deviants to investigate. But the further they moved down, the less androids they found, and Richard’s heart ached with it. What if, after all this, after all hoping and fearing and worrying, Gavin was just dead. Decommissioned. Dismantled. Reset. He didn’t think his heart could take it. ‘We’ll find him’, Hank reassured him, and Connor laid a hand on his shoulder. And they continued their way down, two SWAT officers following.

It was a few hours later when they forced open a door to a lab and there was an android hooked to a diagnostic-rig that looked worn, as if the android had struggled against the confines. It was a familiar android, although Rich was focussed on the gaping hole in his chest and cables and biocomponents spread out on the floor, dusted. ‘Gavin?’ He stormed in, only slowing steps away from him to gently cup his face and lift it. Dead eyes looked up into nothing. ‘Gavin?’, Richard repeated worried, brain not really catching up. ‘It reads something of forced shutdown here’, Connor mumbled, wiping dust from the terminal next to it. He tapped at the screen and looked over to Gavin. ‘I can’t reactivate him.’ ‘That’s because of the biocomponents here’, Hank explained, kneeling down. ‘They are his. Maybe they pulled them out to hinder him from reactivating himself.’ ‘Can you repair him?’, Richard asked. ‘Of course. Will be quicker if you helped me.’

They took their time, slotting everything back together, sealing tubes and searching for spares when the components had simply been ripped out forcefully. Long enough for the two SWATs to take their leave and join the others. Meanwhile Connor clicked himself through the terminal. ‘Weird. It seems he convinced them he wasn’t a deviant.’ ‘That had been his plan. To be send back to work.’ ‘Well, something went wrong.’ Hank sighed, brushing past some cables to check their integrity and revealing a small board. ‘They found his array Nine.’ ‘His what?’ ‘It is part of the mission log. It decides which mission is of higher priority and forces and android to obey, if you want to skip a lot of technical stuff. Our simulated emotions are part of it too. They are simplified reactions to outside actions and help to decide what to do. Too many emotions cause the chip to fry and apparently that’s all what it takes to grant us freedom.’ ‘Okay, they found out he was a deviant. Why ripping out his biocomponents?’ ‘Rich, you know how Gavin can be’, Connor stepped in. ‘Cornered like this and desperate… Maybe they were scared?’ ‘No matter what it was’, Hank concluded. ‘We can soon ask for ourselves.’ ‘He’s booting up!’, Connor announced, and they stepped back.

‘-Love! I will go back to him, you phcking-‘ Gavin stopped screaming, to look around, blinking. ‘Phck, this shit is confusing’, he muttered, before his eyes fell on Richard. ‘Nines!’ He wanted to sprint forwards but was pulled back to the rig. ‘Oh, Sorry!’, Connor called, frowning at the terminal. Hank stepped next to him and pointed to a small button. ‘This one.’ Connor blushed and pushed it, disconnecting the rig from the android, who practically fell into Richard’s arms. But the man didn’t seem to be that stable, because he sank to his knees, holding Gavin. The GV in turn held him and no one dared to move. No one except for Hank, pulling Connor out of the door.

‘You… You came back!’, Gavin finally spoke, sobbing blue tears. ‘You came back for me!’ ��I promised you, haven’t I’, Richard answered, voice trembling and threatening to break. ‘I told you I would come, no matter what.’ ‘Did we win?’ ‘Yes. Marcus, he won. You are free now.’ ‘I can come back to the precinct?’ ‘I’ll do you one better, my love’, Richard said, standing up and carrying the android in his arms no matter the weight, just to press him nearer. ‘You can come home.’

[>next part]

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