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Mishka had an old ask where MC jokingly proposes to N after seeing the warehouse library. Based on that, I thought about an A-mancing detective who is also a bibliophile revealing that they had the same impulse:
MC: You know, N, I nearly asked you to marry me after seeing the warehouse library.
N, smiling: Is that so?
MC: Yes, almost dropped down on one knee and everything.
N laughs and is about to say something before they are interrupted by A
A, shoulders tense, trying to keep their voice casual: You are aware, Agent, that several books in that library are my contribution?
All eyes snap to A. A shifts in their seat, regretting saying anything.
MC, pressing their lips together to suppress a smile, their voice full of amusement anyway: Do you want me to propose to you?
A, with tight voice: Of course not.
MC, F, and M laugh, and even N has to hide a grin, and A's shoulders just keep getting more tense.
F whispers to M: They realise they aren't even in a relationship, right? And they're joking about proposing?
M : They're idiots.
#Maybe I should've just written a proper fic at this point but eh#Hope this is kinda funny at least#And obviously F is ready to burst during this whole convo#adam du mortain#ava du mortain#ficlet#twc#the wayhaven chronicles#a du mortain#unit bravo#twc detective#twc fanfic#twc ficlet
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sweet tooth
(or, less than 900 words of Nat/Ava. this might get posted to ao3 later.)
When Ava kisses her, Nat tastes rich. Not the kind that comes with living for as long as their kind does, but rich in all the ways that her second-in-command seems to revel in.
Ava tastes the cocoa of the cake Nat had at the cafe during their stake-out earlier, under the guise of coffee and lunch: cocoa, and the sweet cream filling between the sponge layers. She closes her eyes at the sensation of Nat’s lips slotting against hers, warm and soft, and recalls the way Nat had run her tongue over the silver fork; an action as innocent as it was impossible to look away from as she savored every bit of the dessert before her.
In all of their centuries together, Ava still cannot understand it, even as she tangles her hand in Nat’s hair to keep her close to chase the taste on her lover’s tongue. Food is wasted on them, and yet Nat still indulges anyway. She prefers sweet over savory, Ava has learned after countless observations, but has a penchant for baked goods, like the cake she ordered after an unneeded Cobb salad lunch.
He’s still there, she’d said, referring to the pawn shop across the street that their target had vanished into. We can’t very well leave until he does, can we? Besides, if we don’t get dessert, we’ll raise suspicion when we linger.
It was sound advice, even when Ava knew it was just because Nat wanted to satisfy a craving. She still insisted on being the one who paid the bill anyway, slamming down a handful of bills on the metal table when they had to go chasing after their target not even five minutes later. Nat had to leave her cake only half-finished, a fact that she was still mourning, even though they turned their zip-tied and subdued man over to the Agency two hours ago. Up until Ava kissed her, that is.
When they pull away, Ava takes a moment to relish the taste of the woman she pulled into her lap. She nuzzles at the underside of Nat’s jaw and traces the sharp edge with her nose. It makes Nat laugh. With them as close as they are, Ava can feel the sound as it washes over her.
“It’s unlike you to be so forward, Commanding Agent.” Nat purrs. She only likes to invoke Ava’s name when she wants to be flirtatious, a fact that does not go unnoticed.
Ava presses her lips in an open-mouthed kiss to Nat’s throat, and tastes the perfume there. “You were going on about how lunch ended; I only wanted to see if it was as good as you were making it out to be. I know how you are.”
Manicured nails undo the knot at the back of Ava’s head to comb through her hair. They scratch deliciously over her scalp. “Oh? And what’s your verdict on the flavor profile?”
“Delicious,” Ava responds, but it is not the cake she is thinking of.
“I didn’t take you for much of a sweet tooth,” Nat teases as she toys with the hair at the nape of Ava’s neck.
Ava turns her head to kiss the soft flesh at the inside of Nat’s elbow. “I am not, under normal circumstances. But you are always the exception.”
It is a truth too close to her heart—she cannot bring herself to make eye contact afterward, afraid of what this fragile hint of admittance might bring, but her concerns are chased away by a hand wandering down her side. It ghosts over her shirt, down one thigh, and comes to a halt only when Nat reaches the silver buckle of her own leather belt.
Of course, Nat does not linger on the implications of what Ava said. She smooths them over instead, the way she always does, and focuses on what she can expand on in order to keep Ava from running. Even when she knows what Nat is doing, she finds she is unable to do anything but freeze and wait for her orders.
“Well, then,” Nat says, low and for no one else in the world to hear but her. When Ava finally scrapes enough courage together to look up, Nat’s eyes are as dark as the cocoa in the cake they have both had the pleasure of enjoying. “If you’re still in the mood for something sweet…”
Pale fingers replace Nat’s own, and the metal buckle jingles as Ava allows her hands to lapse into motions that have been repeated so many times, they are nothing but muscle memory. This, she can face: the physical action and sensations Nat wants to offer. The easy way out, rather than the tender part of herself hidden away, bricked up and safe between the junction of her fourth and fifth rib.
Perhaps one day Ava will be able to face her without feeling like a coward, but for now, she must settle for the squeeze of Nat’s thighs around her waist as she carries her closest companion to the bed that waits for them.
It is enough, she tells herself, and she almost believes it.
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late night courage
Pairing: F!Detective/Farah Hauville
Word Count: 2,5k
Prompt: First
Tags: @happyhauvillebday
Summary: Dinner at Tina’s leaves much food for thought for Farah. The conversation that ensues takes a turn that neither of them were expecting.
She never knows what to do with…this.
With people like her, genuine and hopeful and bright. People who choose to be those things, to embody them, despite the experiences they have and the things they've seen that give them every right not to be. Zuri admires them and their spirit that seems to be as sure as the rising sun. She can never quite grasp that kind of strength, no matter how much time she has spent imitating it. She can be warm and hopeful…and genuine, when she let's herself be.
But what's a heat lamp to the sun?
It's nothing compared to the real thing.
And yet, some of them are drawn to her anyway. Like a moth to a flame, not realising that the warmth they want to bask in is not as gentle as the sun. It could burn them to a crisp, because there is such a thing as being too close for too long. It could burn them, even though it doesn't want to. Even though it craves their company, their touch.
It would be easier if she could stay away but she never really can. She never really wants to. So she falls into a familiar song and dance of getting as close as she can without letting them in, giving as much warmth as she can without burning them, keeping her distance when they get too eager and fly closer to the flames than they should. That push and pull that never satisfies but keeps them safe.
How much is that safety worth?
Farah makes her question that everyday.
Zuri is questioning it now with Farah at her side, the back of their hands brushing against each other as they stroll towards her car. Her pinky twitches and she glances at her, her heart stopping for a second when their eyes meet. It's taking everything in her not to take her hand in hers, to feel their fingers intertwine.
She looks away, focuses on her surroundings instead - the sound of their footsteps are accompanied by the chirping of crickets, softening the silence of the night. The sky is dark and speckled with stars, a gentle breeze makes the skirt of Farah’s dress tickle her skin, her pinky grazes hers and there's a fluttering in her stomach-
Okay, this isn't working.
Zuri swallows and moves her hand away to hold it in her own instead, massaging her palm with her thumb. She needs to get a grip. They've been alone for what, two minutes? And her impulse control reverts to the one she had in highschool - useless in the face of someone who has an interest in her. She won't be rash about this, not when it comes to her. Not when she doesn't think she can give her what she wants.
The fluttering turns into a churning when she catches the disappointment on Farah's face.
She hates how often she causes that. She never wanted to be the reason she feels that way. But the little disappointments are better than the one that would come if they were something more…right?
Zuri turns around and leans against the hood of her car, eyebrows furrowing slightly as she smiles at Farah. She returns it as though she was never anything less than content, the streetlight closeby bathing her in a golden glow, tracing the curves of her face and bouncing off of the coils of her hair. God, she looks like an angel.
“Did tonight go the way you hoped it would?”
Right, the dinner. With Tina. It..slipped her mind for a second there.
She shrugs one shoulder, peering at the house they just left. “I figured it would go well the moment you agreed to come. You two are pretty similar, I couldn't see you not getting along.”
“That's to be expected when I'm the type of company you keep. Who wouldn't like me?” Farah gestures to herself with a grin.
Zuri shakes her head, laughing softly before they fall into silence. Something about the question lingers in the air between them. Or maybe it's just in her head and Farah is being her usual self. Either way, she doesn't know what to do with it yet.
So she changes the subject.
“Speaking of the company I keep,” she raises a brow. “What were you and Tina talking about when I was gone?”
Farah's eyes widen and then she laughs, the sound making her heart stir in her chest and before she knows it she's doing the same. Softly, just like before, so she can hear her laugh ring out around them and imprint itself in her mind again.
“You're still thinking about that?”
“Yes, you were being all sneaky about it! I wanna know what was up.”
It's a genuine question, despite the timing. Something was definitely going on with them and were a little too enthusiastic while dodging her questions. They're clearly already a duo she'll have to keep her eye on.
“It's nothing crazy, seriously. We were just talking about you.”
Zuri turns her head and narrows her eyes. That's the obvious answer so it doesn't tell her much.
“Me?”
“Yup.”
Farah watches her gleefully, rocking back and forth on her feet. The silence continues for a few short seconds before she scoffs playfully. “Don't act like you didn't know. You mean a lot to both of us, of course we'd talk about you.”
Zuri’s hands press against the hood of the car as she leans forward and aims a light-hearted glare her way. “I know that I was the hot topic of the night. What I don't know is what about me was being discussed. So spill.”
“We were talking about how you're doing,” her grin softens into a weak smile as she rubs the back of her neck. “Or how you're not doing. In a general kind of way.”
“Oh.”
She doesn't know what to make of that. How did that even come up among the conversations about supernaturals and how wrong books and movies have been about them? Was Tina worried about her? Was Farah? Did something she say make them think they needed to be?
“Man, Tina warned me about this but I thought I'd manage to make it home before caving.”
Zuri blinks and looks up at Farah. When did she look away? How did she manage that when she's standing right in front of her, her eyes the colour of honey when it's held up to the sun, framed by long lashes and soft with concern.
“It's funny,” she continues with a frown on her face. “I've been talking about how busy things have been lately and how we barely get to spend time together, but…it's always been busy for you, hasn't it?”
“I don't know, has it?” Zuri can't say it hasn't been busy. The little moments she's managed to steal away for herself feel like they happened months ago, fleeting as the flicker of a light. And even those moments couldn't be deemed relaxing, not when a part of her was holding its breath, waiting for the next threat to her life.
“You can tell me,” she urges gently. “You know that right?”
“I know,” Zuri sighs. She deserves a more honest answer than that. “I guess it has been busy.”
Farah offers her a wry smile and steps closer to her. “That means this probably isn't going to be as easy in the future.”
Wait what?
“What? Us?”
“Oh, uh- well, I mean,” she lets out a nervous laugh, her eyes darting to the ground before meeting her gaze again. “I meant us spending time together but that works too. But now that I think about it, I don't know how easy either of those things have been.”
“You know that isn't because of you, right?” The words rush out of her mouth before she can think or process the surge of shock she felt. “If anything hasn't been easy, it isn't because of you. You being around is probably the easiest part about all this.”
“That's a relief to hear. I was getting worried for a second,” Farah jokingly wipes her forehead but the motion is too stiff to be playful, the relief too obvious in how the tension in her face eases.
“Trust me, you have nothing to worry about on that front.”
“I'm not so sure about that,” she mutters before shaking her head and continuing before Zuri can respond.
“Anyway, what I'm trying to say is - it's okay to not be okay after getting sucked into all this supernatural business. I don't think anyone would be if they went through half the things you've been through. And I hope you know that whenever you need a shoulder to cry on, or just…need me, I'll be there.”
She pauses and leans forward, her shoulders raised close to her ears as she smiles sheepishly. “We all will be, but I am hoping you'd sorta kinda want to come to me first,”
She's far too sweet for her own good. Zuri chuckles, her eyes lingering on the curve of her lips before looking back up at her. Warmth blooms in her chest and spreads across her cheeks while she wraps her arms around herself.
“You'll be the first to know when I need a shoulder, I promise,” she says softly. “And um, thank you.”
Farah nods and rubs her arm with her hand, her face growing pensive as she takes a breath. It doesn't seem like she's finished yet. Zuri watches her, trying to reassure her. She can wait however long she needs to to hear more of what she has to say.
“And about that ‘us’…you don't have to worry about that.”
Zuris stomach drops when she says that. It must show on her face because her eyes widen and she frantically corrects herself, waving her hands in front of her.
“Nono, I'm not saying- what I mean is you can take your time. There's no pressure, I'm not going anywhere,” she reaches up to fiddle with the unicorn pendant hanging from her neck. “But whatever you decide, whenever you decide it, I hope we can still spend time together like this. For however long we can before some bad guy swoops in to steal you away.”
Shit. Zuri doesn't want her to think she doesn't want her. She does, more than she's wanted anyone in a long time. She just… doesn't know how to do this anymore. To make something last. As much as she wants to erase any doubt Farah has in her mind, it wouldn't be wise to rule out the possibility of there being no them, would it? They've been walking the razor's edge for months too, so who knows if she'll even want her afterwards? She could move on from her, find someone who's worth all the waiting she's done.
Zuri looks down at the cobblestone road. The thought of that hurts more than it should.
Shit.
Say something!
“I-” her voices hitches, she clears her throat before trying again. “I…don't know how much time we'll have to spend like this.”
That's what you chose to say. Great work, Zuri.
“Neither do I,” Farah's feet enter her view before a finger and a thumb is on her chin and tilting her head up, amber eyes unwavering as she gazes at her. “But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try. You are so worth trying for.”
A shaky breath leaves Zuri’s lungs. Everything inside her comes to a halt, like every part of her wants to focus on nothing but the sound of Farah's voice. Like her words have stunned her entire being into silence.
That's just it, isn't it? That's what matters, if someone is worth trying for, outcomes be damned. And she believes that she is, despite…well, everything.
“Zuri? You okay?”
Something inside her comes undone, and a wave of emotion washes over her, kickstarting her body into gear and slowly forming a lump in her throat. She might not know how to do this, but for her, she'll try. She'll do whatever she can to make this work, no matter how scared she gets or how heartbreaking the end is. Being with her is worth whatever pain might come. And if she's the reason for any burns, she'll make sure to be the balm too.
It looks like it took Farah saying what should've been obvious to her out loud for her to get it.
Wow.
“Yeah,” she blinks a few times and clears her throat. “I'm okay. I'm okay.”
Farah lets go of her chin, barely moving an inch before Zuri’s hand grabs hers, her grip gentle as her thumb runs over her knuckles.
“Farah, I- you're so,” laughter bubbles up her throat, brief and maybe a little bit hysterical as she covers her face with her free hand. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Don't worry about it. You're cute when you're flustered,” Farah says with a wink.
Zuri smiles bashfully and stares down at their hands. Her skin is warm and smooth against hers. She squeezes it gently and swallows before continuing. “You're worth trying for too. You always have been and I… feel a little ridiculous that I'm only really understanding what that means now. I'm sorry it took me this long.”
“Um, no problem,” Farah stares at her for a moment, eyes wide and lips parted. “Is this going where I think it's going?”
“Yeah, it is.”
She beams and rises on the balls of her feet before quickly settling herself down. Zuri's heart flutters in her chest. She seems so excited, ecstatic even for them to finally be in a relationship. She shouldn't keep her waiting any longer.
“I know you've wanted what's been going on between us to be something real. Something more than flirting that doesn't go anywhere. I wish I could've given you that sooner but,” she pauses, taking a deep breath to quell the doubt creeping into her mind.
She holds Farah's gaze and lets it spur her forward. “If you still want that, want me, I'd like to give that to you now-”
Farah flings herself at Zuri. She lets out an oof as their bodies collide and arms wrap around her neck. “Yes! Please do! Like, right now if you want to.”
Zuri giggles and wraps her arms around her waist, breathing in the burst of zest and citrus from her perfume. Their hearts beat in tandem against their chests, hands clutching at each other as they hold each other close; she's so warm… holding her is like holding the sun.
Farah gives her a squeeze before pulling away enough to see her face. “Of course I still want you. I never stopped, and I never will.”
Heat settles in Zuri’s cheeks as she tries and fails to respond, all that comes out is a string of incomprehensible, half-spoken words that are shortly interrupted by laughter.
“God, what are you doing to me?”
“Let me know when you figure that out so I can keep doing it.”
Zuri huffs, shaking her head and smiling softly. “You know, I don't usually ask people out. Not with it meaning what it means right now. This is a first for me.”
Farah snuggles into her, her cheek pressing against her neck. Her voice is muffled, but she can still hear her smile.
“I'm glad you did.”
#happyhauvillebday#twc#the wayhaven chronicles#twc detective#f hauville#farah hauville#this took me much longer than i thought it would holy shit#if you see any spelling mistakes no you didnt😭#anyway heres how zuri and farah's relationship starts#i was gonna include a kiss but i was struggling with writing the build up#the whole idea of this was 'first kiss' but my brain wasnt working with me mxm#i still like how this turned out tho!#twc fanfic#my writing
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(not so) Recent Fic Omnibus
Rules of Engagement The one where Fox quotes the regs
The Hidden Circle (Corrie Waxer & Boil AU) The one where Boil regrets transferring to Triple Z
Chef's Table the one where Gregor embraces his internal Samwise Gamgee
There Is No Try The one with Wooley making planetfall at Point Rain
Triage 101 (Corrie Waxer and Boil AU) The one where both Sparks and Boil are having a DAY
Look With Your Eyes (Not With Your Hands) The one with Padme's ass
The Struggle is Real The one with Jesse's fear of the dentist
#fic omnibus#twc fanfic#commander fox#corrie au#clone trooper waxer#clone trooper boil#clone trooper gregor#clone trooper wooley#clone trooper jesse#personal bingo#drabbles#i was done writing fic
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This Thing Between Us
Pairing: Detective/ Mason
Rating: T
Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles
Summary: In the aftermath of the botched ritual, Marcus and Mason share a moment together
AO3 link
Fic will also be posted under the cut if you prefer to read on here! I hope you enjoy!
Marcus was exhausted in a way that felt like no matter how much rest he got, he'd never be able to quite shake it. It's been hours after the events in the forest. After Li-Sar and…whatever he did to Marcus. The energy that had been crackling under his skin seemed to settle, at least a little, but that wasn't enough to placate the Agency. They had decided that it was best to keep Marcus at the facility to more closely monitor the strange magic pulsing in his veins, and to see if they could figure out the how and why's of said magic's existence.
That all made sense to Marcus, and he agreed, but that didn't mean he didn't want his own bed. That didn't mean he wanted any of this to have happened in the first place. Especially considering what he had done.
Mason had been pretty insistent that the wound that still hadn't healed wasn't Marcus's fault, and that he trusted that Marcus wouldn't do it again.
And he wouldn't. Marcus would rather die than hurt Mason again, in any capacity.
But that didn't change the possibility that something could happen outside of his control. He didn't know anything about controlling magic, or even having magic at all. And now he had to learn how to control and navigate one of the few magics that could seriously hurt the people he loved.
Marcus threw his head back onto the firm pillow, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how the hell things ended up like this.
“You doing okay, handsome?” Mason's voice came from the doorway, where he was leaning against the now open frame. Marcus had been so distracted by his own thoughts that he hadn't even heard Mason open the door.
“Doing as okay as one can, I guess.” Marcus had shrugged, not exactly sure how else to answer. His lips had thinned in worry as he looked Mason over, noticing the bandage wrapping Mason's arm and hiding the wound from view. “I'm more worried about you.”
Mason rolled his eyes, walking closer before deciding to sit down in the chair next to his bed. “We're not doing this again. You're not going to hurt me again. I'm fine.”
Marcus sighed, a wet sound almost stuck in his throat. “I wish I had your confidence.” He said, voice almost trembling with emotion. “I don't know how to control any of this. I reached out for you, and you got hit by…whatever the hell this magic is.” He could still see the searing wound in his mind, burnt into his memories. “Am I supposed to just never touch you again?”
Mason rolled his eyes, acting way too unbothered by the situation. “Yeah, that's not going to happen. I trust you, handsome. You gotta trust yourself too.”
Trust. The mere thought made his throat choke up with more emotions. He knew trust was hard to come by when it came to Mason, and sure Marcus knew that trust was there after everything they'd been through, but to hear it from the vampire himself…it was something Marcus would cherish.
“I know,” he eventually relented, “but you can't blame me for being worried. I don't even know exactly what Li-Sar did to me back in that clearing. What if the solar magic is the least of it?” Marcus said, watching as Mason moved to grab his hand, playing with his fingers absentmindedly. He wondered if Mason was doing it as if to say ‘see? I'm touching your hand right now and I haven't gotten blasted’. Or maybe Mason wasn't even really thinking about the action and just did it. Either way, the sweetness of the gesture made Marcus's heart swell with a never ending fondness.
“What the hell even happened with that Li-Sar guy anyways? I know you said you don't remember much, but…” he trailed off, but Marcus knew what he was getting at. Maybe now that time has passed, and Marcus was (relatively) calm, he'd be able to remember more important details.
“It's still a little blurry in my head, honestly. It was all rather surreal.” Marcus started, biting his lip gently as he tried to recall any important details he might have missed. “Ostin did the ritual, Li-Sar materialized, and then he…” Marcus trailed off, not exactly knowing how to explain that this incredibly powerful being was free from his centuries long imprisonment and his first action was to flirt with Marcus.
“He what, handsome?” Mason said, tense, as if the answer might have him springing out of his seat to find Li-Sar in seconds. Marcus squeezed Mason’s hand once, gently, before continuing.
“He flirted with me? Which sounds ridiculous, I know-” A low almost growl-like sound left Mason's throat, his eyebrows drawn in clear irritation. Marcus frowned at the reaction, confused, but pressed on. “-but he did. Said I was ‘tempting’.” Marcus let out a small laugh at that. It was simply his blood that was tempting, he knew it, but there was something almost comical about some ancient powerful being finding Marcus of all people ‘tempting’.
“He's not wrong. Don't like that he agrees though.” There was a weird tone to Mason's voice, one Marcus couldn't exactly place.
“Unfortunately, I can't help that my blood is apparently a supernatural siren call.” Marcus shrugged, the movement jostling Mason a little bit, who looked up in bemusement.
“You sure he meant the blood, handsome?” Mason had asked him, still absentmindedly playing with Marcus's fingers. Marcus nearly sighed at the sweet gesture and sight, but suppressed it, choosing to focus on Mason’s question.
“I mean, like I said, he was flirting, but I have no clue if it's just because he wants my blood for whatever reason or if he wants the whole, uh, package, so to speak. Not that I'm particularly happy with either option, especially considering he barbecued a man right in front of me.” Marcus couldn't help but wince as he remembered Ostin’s charred and battered remains. “Regardless of Ostin trying to attack me, that felt…excessive.”
Mason's brows furrowed, processing everything just said. “Can't say he didn't get what he deserved, but we need to find this guy. I hate the idea of him lurking around, waiting to get to you.”
Marcus just sighed in response, moving so that there was room on the bed for Mason, hoping he'd get the hint. Mason did, immediately moving onto the bed with ease, pulling Marcus into his arms immediately. Neither really needed the comfort, or the closeness. But it was nice. It was right. How it should be.
“I'm not exactly thrilled about that thought either.” Marcus hesitated, hand moving to play with Mason's hair like he'd been wanting to since that morning, before things went to shit. After a moment of internal debate, he decided to go for it, hand gently sinking into the soft waves. Mason seemed to relax even deeper into their embrace, but his gaze was still fixed on where his and Marcus's other hand was still intertwined. “Especially considering he thinks he has some sort of claim on me.”
Mason's eyes snapped up to Marcus's in that instance, all of the tension that had been released from their embrace and from Marcus playing with his hair immediately snapped back into place. “What?”
Marcus blinked at Mason, somewhat bewildered by his reaction before realizing that no, he hadn't mentioned that before. “Oh, yeah. After what he did to Ostin, he said that it was because he went after what was his. I questioned that, and then he said that I wasn't his yet, but that I would be. And then he did whatever the hell it was that gave me solar magic.” He shuddered at the memory, both because of Li-Sar’s words and because of the pain he had gone through. That was definitely something he hoped he wouldn't have to experience again.
Mason's arm tightened its hold around Marcus, as if Li-Sar was on his way right now to rip them apart, his expression shuttered with an expression Marcus couldn't quite place. Then, a smirk, with not as much heat or heart as his usual ones, took its place. “He'll have to get in line, I think.” Marcus knew he was trying to deflect, rather than mean it with any true flirtation, the roughness in his voice and the tenseness in his body an indicator that he was much more bothered by the turn of conversation than he wanted to show.
“Yeah? And you're at the front of this line?” And thus, Marcus himself decided to deflect too. And maybe try to get a glimpse into whatever the hell was building between them.
Mason scoffed, bringing Marcus's hand up to his mouth. Not quite touching with his lips, but close enough for his breath to fan against the skin, goosebumps rising at the feeling. “I should be the only one in line, handsome.”
The words caused Marcus's heart to skip a beat, the intensity in Mason's eyes piercing through him. He licked his lips reflexively, and Mason's eyes tracked the movement like a hawk, darkening with an all too familiar want.
“You're the only one I'd want to be in line, you know that.” Mason did know that, right? That despite them not having slept together or even kissed, that he was the only one Marcus wanted. It was obvious. Even if Mason only wanted sex from him, it was evident that Marcus foolishly hoped for more. Love, sex, he was greedy for the man next to him. Mason had to know that.
Mason stared at him, grey eyes burning into brown, a severity in them that Marcus couldn't hope to decipher. “Is that so, handsome? You've got an interesting way of showing it.” Marcus frowned slightly, confused. He'd made it clear what he wanted from Mason from the get go. It wasn't his fault Mason wanted less, or at least, that he refused to acknowledge that he wanted more.
“You know what I want, Mason.” He said softly, hand slipping out of Mason’s grip and moving to cup the other man's face. Mason immediately sunk into the action, eyes flickering closed for a moment before focusing back on Marcus. “I'm just here waiting.” He'd always be waiting.
Mason looked like he was about to answer, the tension building between the two of them, but the second he opened his mouth, another voice broke through the quiet.
“So what's all this then?” Felix said, a mischievous tone in his voice as he stood in the door frame. Marcus couldn't help but laugh as Mason growled at Felix, who was, as usual, completely unbothered. “Don't tell me I walked in right before things were getting good.” As if Felix didn't have super hearing and didn't know exactly what they were discussing, but Marcus figured they were needed for something, so unfortunately their conversation had to continue at another time. If there was even going to be another time.
Marcus had a sneaking suspicion that this whole business with Li-Sar was going to make moments alone like this an impossibility, and Felix’s next words had immediately proven that suspicion correct.
“We've apparently got a lead on where that Li-Sar guy went, so they need you both for the debriefing.”
The two had shared a look, one of frustration and resignation, but also determination. They'd figure this out. All of this. Li-Sar. This thing between them. They'd figure it out.
Right?
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In that third drawer of my desk, beside the letters and the book, there are a pair of portraits. One is of my brother and I, before he went to sea, and it is… a strange feeling, to see him again. To recognise yourself in the features of someone you lost, so long ago; someone who you have loved for so much longer. A lifelong grief, recurring---a memory of a memory of a memory, and yet still it slices the same, even after all this time. Like an intake of breath, the shiver of realisation; what you thought you had forgotten, and what you’d sworn you’d never lose. My brother's eyes---they are always so startlingly blue. Vanilla, Bergamot by @evilbunnyking
A commission for @evilbunnyking based on the fic "Vanilla, Bergamot" (which happens to be one of my favorites, so I was delighted to draw for it!) of Nat and Milton! Thank you so much for commissioning me, Bunny!
#the wayhaven chronicles#nat sewell#milton sewell#twc fanart#twc fanfic#twc n sewell#my art#my commissions#my wayhaven fanart
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Hi Mar! 🥳 I was wondering if you have any favourite WIPs at the moment? Any pairing is good!
Hello, hello!! Thank you for the ask. I’ve been thinking about the WIPs I have seen lately and which I have really been enjoying. I’m going to mainly link fic series
Each of these do have an AO3 link. And please mind the ratings and warnings as applicable! You’ll likely need to be logged into ao3 to read, and I highly recommend making sure you have an account
For many of these writers, I’m going to share one current WIP, but you really should read other WIPs and completed works of theirs!
@fauville sweet dreams (inception au)
ava x mc/detective, nate x mc/detective, rook!
@nat-seal-well stay with me (selkie au)
nat x mc/detective
@evilbunnyking breaking the yearlings (reincarnation au) / ember days (the polymance we deserve!)
adam x mc/detective / ava x nate x mc/detective
@delucadarling in search of
mason x mc/detective (with some nate)
@wayhavenots can’t see me loving nobody but you (rook lives au)
unit bravo x mc/detectives, rook is here!
@serially-wayhaven routine body maintenance
mason x mc/detective
@ellstersmash the beach house
mason x mc/detective
@thelionheartedo3 for one brief shining moment (camelot au)
nate x mc/detective (love triangle w/ adam)
@thee-morrigan à la recherche du temps perdu
adam x nate
@deepinifhell infiltrated
farah x mc/detective
@dottiechan tempest
ava x mc/detective
@codename-mango home and danger
adam x mc/detective
As well, @nsewell has a very cool concept for a story written as a screenplay/script! (ava x nat)
Linking @serenpedac ‘s ao3 as there so many incredible stories! Tales of Tea and Fortune, I believe, is a completed work and absolutely one of my favorites - think about it all the time! And please check out When Words Fall Silent (stories mentioned nate x mc/detective)
#okay have been thinking about this all day and i hope i got the links and the pairings right#kept the summaries out in case i got something incorrect#but really really really recommend these#and please keep in mind there are a lot of other stories by these authors - i am just linking wips#twc#twc fanfic#the wayhaven chronicles#ask#anon ask
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WIP Wednesday
i was tagged by the lovely @serenpedac and decided to share a fic i am working on about my wayhaven detective, kira <3 i felt like i needed to write more about her before i could get into the mess that is her and A Du Mortain, so here is a snippet of what is already going to be a far too long character study.
had to go the screenshot route because tumblr wants to take my no-structure-having-ass out back to be shot
____
(Warnings: mention of menstruation, blood, and underage substance use. Brief mention of underage sex. Mommy issues galore obvi.)
The Serpent Who Ate Her Tail
Part One: Patterns
#pray for whatever mess she and adam/ava are gonna have going on#my brave little soldier#having a lot of fun with this though hope it makes sense!!#my writing#twc fanfic#wip wednesday#oc: kira#twc
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sweet dreams
fandom: the wayhaven chronicles
rating: mature
pairings: ava du mortain/female detective (vesper graves), nate sewell/female detective (charlie langford)
chapters: 5/?
A/N: I HAVE NO EXCUSE! but here is (finally, FINALLY) chapter 5 of sweet dreams. there's decriptions of death and suicide (in dreams) in this chapter as well as more creepy horror elements, so take care of yourself. 🩷
taglist: @agentnatesewell, @carriehobbs, @lalizah, @kibellah (let me know if you want to be added or removed)
summary:
Vesper sees it now out of the corner of her eye when she’s at the beach again, sitting on the sand and watching the surf and the white foam and her projections of sea gulls and fish. It's sitting on the bulwark, eyes incessantly on her.
read in ao3.
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Hey does anybody know the fic where A (I think it was Adam) drinks poisoned blood (it was inspired by sera's patreon scene) and the other three don't and M has to take the detective away while N and F restrain A. Or did I just dream up the fic's existence? please I am going insane, I skimmed through a lot of the fic summaries on ao3 and couldn't find anything that fit (but I got tired near the end so I might have missed it)
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Title: helping hand
Pairing: Ava du Mortain/Nat Sewell
Rating: G
Words: 2,651
The touch keeps her there, frozen in place in this room—surrounded by items collected over decades, all carrying the same lingering traces of flowers, of tea, of the tanning of leather-bound books—and she does as she has always done, whenever it comes to Natalie Sewell. She acquiesces. Just as there is not another person who will ever understand her pain, the only one who could ever have her so quick to relent is the woman whose pianist fingers are curled around the joint of her wrist.
“I only wanted to ask for your help,” Nat continues.
Ava’s answer comes as easily as they always do, whenever Nat is the one asking. “I would do anything you asked of me.”
She means it with all of herself.
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Fic rec Friday #1
For the past three years, I’ve been making end of the year fic rec lists and although that has been a lot of fun, I’ve decided to do something different this year: fic rec Fridays! It’s something I’ve seen several mutuals do on occasion and it seems less overwhelming. The plan is to make a post every other Friday until the end of the year.
Kicking this off with two historical AUs, namely "The Debutante's Guide to Saving a Spinster" by @wayhavenots and "for one brief shining moment" by @thelionheartedo3!
The Debutante's Guide to Saving a Spinster
Adam groans. “I will take care of the others. But you are the most important.” Farah tosses a smile over her shoulder, practically smacking his face with a feather. “I know.” “For this mission,” he clarifies, dodging the ornament with ease. She beams. “I won’t tell anyone that I’m already your favorite, Adam. Don’t worry.”
I didn’t know I needed a historical AU for Farah until I read this, but now it’s all I can think about! Seeing a Farah who has only recently made the passage from the Echo world to Earth trying to navigate the intricacies of high society, with Adam and Nate to help her, is one of my favourite things ever. I love how PD writes Farah as bold and bright, but also adds in so much nuance. And then there are the very early beginnings of her relationship with Jenny! It has been such a pleasure to get to know more about her. I can’t wait to see more of those two <3
And as always in PD’s fics, the banters are on point!
*~*~*~*~*
for one brief shining moment
Adam draws back just enough to brush her hair back and hold her gaze. "Ely," he says, voice tender. "We will be safe. I will keep you safe." She shakes her head. "It's my selfishness that caused this and someone else has paid the price." "I have never met anyone more selfless." A hollow laugh falls from her lips. "How can you say that when you know Nate?" "It is because I know you both that I can say this."
This Camelot AU is going to break my heart, of that I am sure, yet I can’t help but let myself be taken away into this this world with King Nathaniel and Adam as knight. The blossoming relationship between Elyse and Nate was lovely to read, but I also very much admire how it’s very much not the perfect fairy tale marriage, with the inequality that is still there between them and the things Nate keeps to himself. To contrast this, there's the bickering and slowly growing trust between Ely and Adam. An honourable mention should go to the friendship between Ely and Sir Morgan and Sir Farah!
I love the world that is created in this fic, the way the story is woven, so so much!
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bare your teeth, blunt as they may be
Pairing: F!Detective/F!Li-Sar and F!Detective/Adam du Mortain Word Count: 5,5k Warnings: Angst, Lots of sexual tension and descriptions of violence (but those are pretty tame, nothing graphic) Tags: @agentnatesewell @ava-du-mortain (you haven't asked but I know you've been waiting for this lol). Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fics! Authors Note: I am done at last! I rewrote and edited this thing so much, I just had to stop at some point. I haven't settled on how Li-Sar looks so there isn't a whole lot of detailed description on her appearance (or her outfit; I'm so sorry but I cannot write her in what she's wearing in the books and I couldn't decide on another one for her), but Zuri is still pretty descriptive of her if I do say so myself. Also on a03!
-
The forest floor tastes like ash. Dry against her cheek, dry as her throat. She lands face first on the cracks of a former cage.
Zuri coughs, palms against the barren forest floor, arms shaking as she pushes herself up. Only her upper body makes it off the ground. She can't muffle the groan that escapes her lips. There's too much aching. In her limbs from blocking attacks, in her torso for taking one too many. Her knuckles, the side of her face, bruised. Her bottom lip, stinging, probably busted. Blood trickles down her chin and leaves a tangy taste in her mouth. She blinks and blinks and blinks the blurry vision away.
The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. The air is tinged with her magic - the same magic buzzing through her and flaring out of her in sparks. She's getting closer.
“Have I truly hurt you so, mortal?” She coos, her voice silky smooth from behind her. Zuri scrambles forward, trying to move her legs despite them feeling as heavy as cinder blocks. Li-Sar's tone shifts to something sharp with the promise of violence as she continues, “or is there another pathetic human being I need to rid this world of for you?”
Zuri slowly turns her head, eyes trailing up the length of her body before meeting her gaze and whimpering. Let her think it's over. Let her think she's done fighting-
Then kick.
Her foot strikes her in the calf. Li-Sar grunts, leg buckling slightly only because of how often she's been kicked there. She locks her foot around her ankle and the same leg crumbles to the ground. Dirt flies into the air when Li-Sar's forearms meet the floor. She manages to hold her weight on one arm long enough to reach for her gun. Aims it at her and-
“Come now.”
A hand hits her wrist, bats it away. It flies out of reach, accompanied by a dry laugh that's soon muffled by the ringing of a stray gunshot. It's hard enough to put Zuri on her back.
Li-Sar's head is framed with trees from her position above her. She's straddling her, thighs on either side of her, an arm pressing tight against her neck while the other wrestles away the hand reaching and clawing for her face. It's eventually pinned to the ground.
The ringing in her ears and hard landing disorients her enough for any move she makes to be sloppy, but not enough to drown out her next words. “You know that won't work on me.”
Her clothes cling to her body, crackling with static and suddenly she's off the ground. In the air. The world spins. Her back slams against something rough and flaky - a tree - and she wheezes in Li-Sar's grasp.
She shakes her head and tuts as she looks over her. She loosens her grip on her blazer, moving one hand up to Zuri's face, cupping her jaw and moving her head this way and that in inspection. Zuri feels more than hears herself protesting, her lip stinging as she says…something and squeezes her eyes shut so she doesn't have to watch her surroundings spin and droop in front of her.
Another coo. A thumb rubbing against her chin, blood smearing against her skin, het voice clear as the ringing fades away. “This isn't quite the mess I wanted to make of you, meor'dal.”
Zuri tries to focus on her breathing, ragged as it is, and opens her eyes to watch the trees that aren't obscured by the curls of her hair slowly come to a standstill. Anything but the sound of her voice or the feeling of her fingers on her skin. The way both imbed themselves into her mind.
“Listen, Li-Sar,” she rasps.
“Oh, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. Talk to me, I will listen to every word.” She brings her thumb to her mouth and sucks gently, her eyes flashing a bright white as she licks the blood off.
Her throat is still dry as she swallows and heat gathers in her cheeks. Why must she be so- God, this is ridiculous.
“You-” Zuri stammers, shying away from her gaze with an ahem before continuing. “It was stupid of them to come here and think they could take you on. Trappers are notorious for getting in over their heads.”
“So that's what those humans are? Trappers?” She scoffs. “A name fitting for those who foolishly throw themselves into a trap.”
“Right,” she meets her eyes again, watching carefully for a change in demeanour. She may not know what they're called, but she knew enough to draw them to her. Easy targets.
“We just came to get them away from here, take them in and figure out a motive.”
She wants to believe that they didn't intend to actually try and capture her - a being so powerful that her prison was interdimensional purgatory. She really does. But maybe years of eating dirt while fighting agents made them lose brain cells. That, or whoever orders them around found out about Sin and got cocky, thinking that they too could have a powerful, centuries old supernatural do their bidding. Whatever it is, it's ridiculous. So much so that the Agency sent her and the rest of Unit Bravo here to protect them from her - neutralise them and prevent as many deaths as possible.
Mostly so they don't have to play clean up. At least, that's what Morgan thinks.
They arrived while the Trappers were still alive and breathing and following hare-brained orders. They were standing around Li-Sar in a loose circle; she was watching them with a smirk and playing with the electricity dancing around her fingers. Probably pleased that her practice dummies delivered themselves to her. They started advancing slowly - at least they had enough brain cells to be afraid - and all she did in response was chuckle. The calm before the storm. She could and would wipe them out in seconds.
Zuri entered the scene with her hands raised. The powers had settled enough for them to not instantly open fire on people, especially when she remains calm. So with deep, calculated breaths, she used them to appear placating and harmless as she talked Li-Sar out of engaging them.
They aren't worth it, they wouldn't even be able to put up a good fight.
What do you suggest I do then, mortal?
Let me and my friends handle them. We'll get them out of your hair. It'll be more entertaining if nothing else. You could also catch a glimpse of that potential you're so interested in.
You and the vampiir in the shadows are…friends? You are full of surprises, aren't you? Fine then. Show me what you can do.
With a bright flash, she disappeared.
With her gone and the sun having sunk behind the trees, Unit Bravo was as strong as they could be while having Zuri in the vicinity. She may not be the sun or a centuries old deity, but the solar powers inside her were enough to prevent them from functioning at full strength. Not that it would be needed against a bunch of flighty, spooked Trappers.
It was a quick fight. Mission accomplished. It ultimately went well. Until it didn't.
One of them got up and tried to swing at her from behind. She saw the man in her periphery, lowered herself into a defensive stance. There wasn't enough time to dodge, but she could take him.
But not faster than Adam rushed forward to tackle him.
But he wasn't faster than Li-Sar, who appeared out of thin air and struck him down with a bolt of lightning.
He died on impact. Burnt to a crisp.
She missed Adam by a hair.
The air was heavy with tension and fear. Magic and blood. And she choked on it, too thick in her lungs as she gasped.
He could've been killed too.
It didn't take much to convince the vampires to stay back and for Li-Sar to join her somewhere more private - maybe even nostalgic for her - but she knows they aren't far. After what happened during their first encounter, they weren't going to leave the two of them alone for long.
She needs to be quick.
“But we can't exactly question someone who isn't alive,” she can still feel his blood on her side, can hear how it splattered against bark and damp grass. The way his body fell to the ground, joining the others that were groaning on the ground with a stillness that only comes after a heart stops beating.
Her own hammered in her chest.
“...why?” She asks, quietly, hoping for a good reason, knowing she won't get one.
“Why?” Li-Sar stares her down with a raised brow as if the question couldn't be more ridiculous. Like questioning her at all was even more so.
Louder this time, with anger rumbling beneath a layer of fear and frustration. “After thousands of years, you're free. And the first thing you want to do is kill some random group of humans!? Why?”
“They led themselves to their deathbeds the moment they thought they could have any control over me,” she snarls, the stare souring into a glare. “They are worth less than the dirt beneath our feet. Pests, at best. And I will not let a pest touch what is mine.”
Her jaw clenches, blood boiling, sparks flying off her fingers. God, she can't take anymore of this. Of people staking claim of her, believing she'll bend to their will or will be their tool to use for whatever they want to gain. Something ugly and destructive stirs within her, all sharp teeth and claws and molten heat, rearing its head after laying low for months and being smothered by fear and sadness.
She returns the glare and digs her nails into her wrists, drawing out a hiss. Electricity flares between them, vibrant streaks of blue where her palms meet her skin.
“And what,” she speaks through clenched teeth, her voice low and hackles raised, “makes you think any part of me is yours.”
Li-Sar's hands glitch out of her grip before she slams her against the tree again. Hard enough for the breath to be knocked out of her lungs. Her body is heavy against hers, forcing her gasps for air to be shallow, her tender ribs screaming as the bark pricks at her back. A hand grabs her wrists and pins them above her head.
“Is the power surging through you not my own? Is our bond not what allows you to wield it?
She doesn't answer. She can't. Nothing she says can change what happened to her. That another supernatural tried to use her, that their will was imposed on her again. That her blood has been the catalyst for all of it. And everyone wants to drain her dry.
Fuck Ostin. And fuck every power-hungry asshole out there.
Zuri stifles a groan and twists and turns. Her legs are useless - heavy, far from the ground and too close to her body for them to put any distance between them. But she has to do something, anything.
Li-Sar tilts her head, watches her fondly and chuckles - now she can both hear it and feel it. Hates that the press of her body - how it reverberates through her, shakes against her - doesn't bother her the way it should. She leans in close, strands of her tickling her cheek as she murmurs, “your anger is endearing, although I don't understand it.”
Her lips brush against her ear and Zuri stills.
“You have seen my power firsthand, as well as how those around you yearn for it. But still, you fight it. As though it isn't a blessing to be my other-heart.”
“I,” she can't bring herself to turn her head away. “I don't know what that's supposed to mean.”
“Hmm. You will, in time,” she hums before pulling away slightly. Just enough for both of them to have a clear view of the other's face. Enough for Zuri to see nothing but her. Knuckles trail along the curve of her cheek and jaw, a pleasant tingle against her skin.
“The people of this world are meaningless to me. Specks of stardust in a vast galaxy. They have nothing to offer me. But you? You have,” she inhales, deeply, breathing her in while her eyes trace her features as though she could get drunk on her and her alone. “You have more than you could ever imagine.”
A shudder runs down Zuri’s spine. A part of her clings onto the anger she has, tries to will it to fuel her actions, but the heat building up inside her isn't from that alone. Some of it comes from having this woman in front of her. Bold, flirty, certain about herself, what she wants, who she wants. Their hearts are pounding against each other through their clothes, through their chests why does she have to be so-
Li-Sar's eyes travel lower, down her neck and collarbone to where their bodies meet. Zuri follows her gaze without thought. A charge of electricity dances back and forth between them, in and around one person and to the next. She isn't sure what it's transferring, but she can hear every breath they take, feel the clouds gathering above them, the ache in her body fading and the endearment Li-Sar felt towards her. The anger she felt when the Trapper tried to attack her. Amusement, disdain, excitement, confusion.
Lust.
“This is but a glimpse of your potential. Of what I can do with and for you. What I can do to you, if you wish it,” she purrs and puts a finger under her chin. The zap that follows feels like a dangerous mix of pleasure and pain, making Zuri shiver and look back up at her. An instruction and a warning.
“Don't you want to discover all you are?”
“I am more than my blood.”
There's conviction in her voice, stained with doubt and desperation. As if it isn't just the world she's trying to convince.
But she is more than that. She has to be. She is more than parts of Rook, more than parts of Rebecca, more than what Murphy did to her.
“But of course.”
“I'm mo-” she blinks, “...I'm sorry, what?”
Another chuckle. She holds her chin between her thumb and index finger. And there's that endearment again.
“Surely you don't think that I chose you over that witch because of your blood?” Li-Sar glances off to the side, her mouth curling in disdain as she sighs. “It is powerful, no doubt. An untapped part of your essence that freed me. But there have been many blood sacrifices - that alone is not enough for someone to share in my power.”
Blood sacrifices? Plural? A strange, specific set of words. Ostin did seem almost reverent when he first saw Li-Sar, seemed to loathe the idea of her being imprisoned. They're practically a deity, so having people worship her isn't far fetched. A cult following wouldn't be either. But Zuri only heard about here recently. Outside of how she handled her arrival and Ostin’s temper tantrum, she hasn't exactly done anything that would be of interest to…a God?
She purses her lips. Li-Sar watches her with half-lidded eyes, amused, as though she can hear the dogs turning in her brain. Her focus shifts down to her lips. Zuri pretends not to see it.
“I wonder what I've done that makes me- makes this different, then.”
“It's not just what you've done but what you would do, if you had the chance. I can see it in your eyes, something ferocious but restrained like-” she rolls her lips together and shakes her head, muttering something in Echolian.
“This English language is inept at describing this. But in all my years, I rarely happened upon someone who has this. But here you are. You, and a woman who calls herself the leader of Rogue Supernaturals.”
Oh shit. Her stomach drops.
“She's spoken to you already? How did she contact you? Did she-”
“Oh hush, there is nothing of importance there,” amusement seeps into her voice as she scoffs. “Nothing to panic over nor be jealous of. She lacks your restraint. It makes her nowhere near as tempting. It is adorable watching your control slip, mortal.”
Dammit. What is with her? Since when can someone she's just met make her fumble like this. Where the hell is her subtlety?
She can't even blame the fight. Li-Sar seems to have healed her wounds again.
God, get it together.
“Your floundering is endearing as well. Almost every part of you is. No need to be embarrassed.”
“I'm not-”
“She wanted to be what you are,” she interrupts and Zuri strains to hold her tongue. “My she’loe-chae'lis, my other-heart, my chosen. And perhaps she would be, if I had not met you first.”
Zuri keeps her eyes trained on her, white-blue against dark brown. Something creeps into her, something like disappointment and the anxiety of something being in jeopardy. Nothing important. Focus. Their blood had mixed when she gave her these powers. Can they be taken away? Could whatever it is that tether them to each other be severed? Would she give it to the Rogue's leader if it could be?
Li-Sar's eyes don't give away a thing. She just watches with what seems like endless patience, like watching the cogs turn is entertaining. Zuri doesn't think she can get any answers that she isn't already willing to share - nothing that really means something to her. Especially now, when she's holding onto anger so tightly that it chaffs and she's still caught in the tension simmering between them.
“You think too much,” she says, cooing again before leaning in close enough for their foreheads to touch. “Don't you see, meor'dal? The humans want to control me and the supernaturals of this world want to be my chosen. But all I want is you.”
Her breath hitches. The anger slips. All that's left is the heat thruming through her and pooling in her abdomen, the nerves fluttering in her stomach, her breath fanning her face, how thin their clothes feel, how they shouldn't be there-
God, it's all she's wanted for as long as she can remember. For someone to want her. To choose her over everything. Over work, over rationale or fear, over something or someone more convenient. To see something in her that's worth staying for, even if they can barely reach it. She almost can, just a few inches shy of reaching in and grazing that all too sensitive spot nestled inside her.
“All I want,” her voice is close to a whisper as she cups her face, “is you, and the world we can shape together.”
But at what cost?
Just…keep it together.
A shaky exhale is all that comes out for a while. A pause. Then eyebrows furrow as she frowns like she might just sob. Zuri shakes her head a bit before resting the back of her head against the tree - she didn't even realise it had moved - and peers up at the sky. The moon peeks out from behind dark red clouds.
She can't just take her at her word. Who knows if this is what she wants and not what she knows makes her weak, feeds some twisted part of her that wants someone to be willing to burn down the world for her.
“I,” the words die in her throat when she meets her gaze again, sees the depthless, unbridled need inside of them… she almost doesn't want to say it but…
She slams her eyes shut and shakes her head again. “No, no, I- I don't want the world.”
“Then what?” Frustration makes the charge between them tremble. Fingers grasp the side of her face in an attempt to make her look at her, as if she'll claw the answer out of her if that's what it takes to have her at her side. Zuri’s eyes open and Li-Sar's face twists. Something close to desperation meets that frustration.
“What do you desire? What is it you crave that you believe I cannot give to you?” A muscle in her jaw twitches as her lips set into a hard line, nose wrinkled and eyes glowing a bright white. “I am already yours as much as you are mine, so tell me!”
A rumble of thunder accompanies the growl in her voice and goosebumps rise on Zuri’s skin, the fear raking down her spine freezing her in her spot.
That's the problem, isn't it? Li-Sar would do whatever it would take to fulfill her, to gain her favour, to crack her open and free the ugliest parts of her from their restraints. She'd protect her from any and every threat, destroy them in a blink of an eye. If she joins her. If she's willing to bury those she loves alongside the power-hungry and greedy. They're nothing To her, after all. Insignificant little things with nothing to offer her. If Li-Sar is hers as Zuri is hers, what good would anyone else be? What would they be but a threat to their bond?
She doesn't want that. She never will. She'd rather go unwanted for the rest of her life than lose her friends, her family, the community she has here in Wayhaven despite everything. There's no answer she can give that is worth never laughing with Tina and Verda again. Or experiencing the world through fresh eyes with Farah. Watching the sunrise in comfortable silence with Morgan. Exchanging books and anecdotes with Nate.
Being the reason Adam lowers his guard and smiles enough for the dimples to show on his face.
Every moment with them plays in her mind like a movie on fast forward. Slows to the day she left a scar on Adam's arm, one that won't heal. It's permanent. Her throat burns. She can't lose them. She won't. Not while she's alive and breathing. She won't be the reason he's hurt again and no one will carry any scars because of her.
Zuri stares back at Li-Sar. Another rumble, another flash of electricity, a crack of lightning, tension tension tension-
She is unwavering, firm. She won't get the answer she wants. At that, the amalgamation of frustration and anger softens into confusion, then fascination, then…she looks impressed? Begrudgingly, but impressed nonetheless.
“Fine,” she scoffs and glances away, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Keep your secrets while you can. You will speak them freely once you join me.”
She almost slumps in relief, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. This is, what? Their second meeting? Their first full on conversation? And she can toy with her as though she's known her her whole life, push every button, say all the right things. It will never not be weird to be on the receiving end of that.
The air sighs, feeling lighter by the second. But only one type of tension evaporated. The other still lingers, balances on a tightrope.
Li-Sar's gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips, her hand gently cradling her face rather than grasping it tightly. She releases her wrists and Zuri's arms fall to her bare shoulders. Blue currents run down her arms, whirl around Li-Sar's shoulders down to her fingertips. For the first time, she shudders, eyes widening as she continues to watch her with a new intensity.
“...would you grant me this moment?”
Her hushed words hang in the air between them. Zuri blinks up at her. This can't be what she thinks it is. What she hates that she hopes it is.
“...what?”
A thumb caresses her bottom lip, the stinging fading as she does. There's fluttering in her stomach again, warmth in her cheeks, anticipation in her veins.
“I'd like to taste you, if you'd permit me,” a small gasp, and Li-Sar mirrors her, parts her own lips, seconds that feel like minutes pass before she continues. “I will savour however much of you I can have.”
The heat returns with a vengeance at the yearning in her eyes. Oh God. Zuri’s heart might just beat out of her chest. The last kiss she had was both bittersweet and magical and everyday after that has been a test in restraint.
Being alone with Adam was like drowning; his presence is all-encompassing, beautiful, painful, everything it wasn't supposed to be. It was supposed to be easy and fun, her wriggling her way past his walls and getting to see more of him than what the world sees. But he burrowed his way under her skin too and now? Now she's lost her balance, fallen from the edge and things are more complicated than they've ever been. Now she itches to be in his arms again, to run her fingers through the short strands of his hair, to feel his hand on her face and his lips on hers. She finds herself on the verge of begging and pleading for him to share that moment with her.
Just one more kiss, even if he won't have her. Even if they keep dancing around what they have. Even if it's better that way.
And here she is, with an all powerful being who is bold and beautiful and dangerous and wants her. Who isn't afraid of what it could mean or how it could end. She wants her. She could kill her for daring to deny her. But instead she asks for a kiss. Just one kiss, even if she can't have her the way she wants to.
Zuri wraps an arm around her neck and draws her in before she can think. She doesn't want to think - to resist - anymore. She wants it messy and desperate and electric.
Li-Sar chuckles and puts her free hand against the tree, crowding her but preventing her from pulling her any closer. “You will have to use your words. That shouldn't be difficult with that silver tongue of yours.”
She can't say it out loud, it's messed up and embarrassing and-
“May I taste you?”
Her eyebrows furrow, she's holding her breath, her head moves up and down before she can think-
Yesyesyesyes-
“...yeah,” it's shaky when it comes out, mixed with a heavy breath. “Yes…please.”
Li-Sar's eyes flash again, the hand on her cheek sits more securely while the other slowly moves to her waist. She stares at her with wonder and… concern. Their foreheads touch and one of Zuri’s hands leaves her shoulder to brush her hair out of her face. She needs to look at her.
“You have been hurt, haven't you, meor'dal?” She leans in closer, dips her head until the tips of their noses brush, her voice soft but firm. “I promise you this. That ache in your heart? That is something you will never have to bear again. Not when you are with me.”
Zuri is warm all over from the heat inside and against her body. Her hair is soft between her fingers, her scent is dizzying, her breath fans against her face and she is so beautiful. She's beautiful, she's dangerous, she wants her, she isn't him. The light, barely there touch of her lips makes sparks course through her, through her fingers, slice through her thoughts until all that's left are fragments yes, please, I want, need this, kiss me, kiss me, please-
“Zuri?”
Eyes snap open. A hand covers her mouth. Her own shift to her shoulders, balled into fists, pushing her away. The bark pokes at her back and the back of her head.
She doesn't need to glance to the side to see who's there. She'd know that voice anywhere. She looks anyway.
Adam.
Shit.
The rest of Unit Bravo come up from behind him, standing at a distance. Stiff like they all want to run towards her and get Li-Sar as far away from her as possible.
Li-Sar is doing the same.
Her hair stands on end as she stares at them, the static so overwhelming it crackles and pops and stings. Thunder starts rumbling, low and threatening, the backdrop to this standoff. She doesn't look at Zuri when she speaks, her voice echoing through the forest as she speaks. “Which one of them is it?”
Fear floods in and flushes every feeling away. Shit. She could kill them right where they stand. She pushes the hand on her mouth away, gets a tight hold of her wrist.
“Li-Sar, no. Stop.”
“Tell me.”
Farah watches intently. Morgan growls. Nate puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder. He still shifts closer.
“No,” the panic is clear in the rasp of her voice. “Leave them alone.”
“Who-”
“Stop!”
Her voice booms. There's a crack of thunder, a flash of lightning. The vampires cover their ears. Zuri’s hand zips forward, clutches Li-Sar's jaw, forcing her head to turn towards her. Away from them. Something surges through her, mixing with the fear, amplifying the anger and the ugly little thing inside her that gnaws at its cage. She won't watch them be hurt again. Not by either of them. Her fingers dig into her face again, another hiss as her nails pierce her skin. Her mind races with thoughts and images of every way she could stop Li-Sar, each one gorier than the next.
It would be the last thing she lets either of them do.
“You stay away from him,” her voice is as cutting and as loud as the thunder, “from all of them. If you even look in their direction again, you'll lose any chance you had of me being your she’loe-chae'lis.”
She says the word like her Echolian has been fully honed.
Li-Sar stares at her, her face still scrunched in anger, her eyes bright but inspecting. Curious. Piercing like she might call her bluff that there's any chance at all. They dim, and familiar fascination slips through. That, and an impressed smirk.
“As you wish,” she steps away a few seconds after Zuri lets go of her jaw, keeping her eyes on her as she backs away.
She stops at the trees opposite her, places a hand on one, making sure to turn her body away from Unit Bravo when she does.
“Until we next meet, Zuri,” her name echoes before she vanishes in a flash of lightning with a loud crack.
The tree has been split in too, leaves burnt to ash, branches black and smoking.
A warning of what she can do. What she could've done.
Zuri’s feet touch the ground for the first time in ages and her legs buckle.
“Zuri, are you harmed? Are you-”
“Give her a moment, Adam.”
Nate puts a hand on his shoulder again. The four of them get as close as they can while staying out of reach. She looks back at them, leaning back against the tree, panting with a wry smile. They're okay. They're all okay. “A moment would be appreciated.”
“Woah. Your eyes,” Farah stares at her in awe. “Your hair, your voice! Holy shit. Those powers are getting stronger by the day.”
Inhale. Exhale.
“You say that like it's a good thing.”
“It's not a good thing or a bad thing,” she shrugs, “just…a thing. I think.”
Inhale. Exhale.
“When were you gonna tell us that stuff would make your voice that loud?” Morgan joins in, crossing her arms and inspecting her with a concerned frown.
Zuri let's out a short, breathless laugh. “Oh trust me, I would've told you the moment I found out.”
“We do trust you.”
She shakes her head and gives them a weak smile. They're only talking because they know the silence would be worse for her. That noise, no matter how soft, helps her breathe easier.
Inhale. Exhale.
She vaguely feels her earrings lower to their usual position, dangling from her ears. Her clothes loosening around her, back to hugging her figure instead of squeezing it. The magic inside her feels less like a waterfall and more like a small stream, contained and not sparking outward.
It's Nate who speaks next. “How are you feeling, Zee?”
Soothed. Embarrassed. Exhausted. Relieved. Too many things to describe in depth. But she knows one thing.
“You're all okay. You're alright, so I'm good. Tired, but good.”
She straightens up and takes a step towards them. Or really, stumbles towards them. Adam catches her by the elbow and puts a hand on her back. She looks up at him with furrowed brows before looking down at his arm, shying away from his touch. The scar is still there. She hurt him one way and almost hurt him in another.
She almost kissed her.
“Wait, Adam I…”
“It is as you said. We are all alright,” she looks up again and finds him smiling softly. “I am all right.”
Guilt coils inside her chest.
“Let us go home,” he adds softly.
Zuri stares at the split tree, rolling her lips together at the sight. At the images that come with it. The part of her that already misses her and part that wants her gone in a way that's more permanent than a magically powered cell. She nods, leans into him despite how wrong she feels for doing it, and he leads her away.
She needs to just… get away from here.
#my writing#twc#twc book 4#twc fanfic#twc li-sar#twc detective#a du mortain#adam du mortain#li-sar x detective#adam du mortain x detective#oc: zuri jackson#zuri x adam#i did what i could with what i had#especially when it came to the solar powers lmao they might be giving more storm powers but hey#i tried#what's most important here is the TOXIC YURI#and zuri's mind being a little unhinged#i think about the option in book one that lets the detective say 'is losing morals part of basic training at the agency?' and laugh#because shit dude look at your thoughts - it just might be lmaooo#i also forgot to mention that this is basically the start of a love triangle with the way i wrote it
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fandom: the wayhaven chronicles
rating: mature (minors dni)
pairing: nat sewell/female detective (unnamed)
word count: 1,072
A/N: been meaning to write this for literal years lol. be kind, my first twc fic in years <3
┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛
There's you, there's Nat and there's a piano.
There’s also a look exchanged, which ignites something deep and molten in the pit of your stomach as your breath starts to quicken at the sight of Nat's warm brown eyes glinting with desire.
You're sitting on top of the grand piano and you stare at each other, vampire and human, the moment crackling with electricity around you. You are incredibly aware of Nat's power as a supernatural during this moment. She could kill you with a snap of her fingers. You're not sure why you find the thought so appealing and you are certain Nat would be absolutely horrified if she knew what you're thinking, but luckily mind reading isn’t one of Natalie Sewell's many talents yet.
Nat wiggles you out of your shirt, laughing when the fabric gets stuck on the silver necklace you're wearing, making you curse under your breath. You try to settle your nerves by steadying your breath, but it's all but useless. It's a little frustrating to lose your composure so easily, when Nat appears to be in full control of herself despite her obvious desire for you. At least for now. You hope that will change.
When your shirt is finally out of the way, Nat's eyebrow quirks, your blush deepens and her long fingers dance on the bare skin over your ribs; like she is playing them the same way she played the piano for you only a few moments earlier.
You sigh at her touch, and Nat smiles, wholeheartedly gentle, and you kiss her, because there's no other conclusion for this moment. You love kissing Nat. She does it like she does everything: all-encompassingly.
Her lips are so soft and pillowy you absent-mindedly wonder what lip balm she uses, before all the thoughts disappear from your mind at the force of Nat's devotion to you. You love her so much you feel faint with it; it feels it wouldn't even be possible to adore a person so much as you adore Nat, its might almost taking you by surprise during this moment.
[ao3 link]
Nat helps you out of your bra by unhooking the clip at the front, taking the time to compliment the rosy pink colour against your complexion, which makes you giggle stupidly, because you're so in love with this one woman you would do absolutely anything she asks or desires of you. It should be scary but it isn't, because she's Nat.
You attempt to remove Nat's green shirt as well, but she gently pushes your eager hands away and instead opens the button and zipper of your washed up jeans and helps you out of them.
Then she falls on her knees and the sight takes you out of breath, makes you feel like all of this is just a hazy dream and you will soon wake up with your life turned back to normal without this devastatingly attractive vampire kneeling in front of you. You scoot closer to the edge of the piano when Nat crooks her forefinger invitingly.
And then… then her mouth is on you.
There’s fabric between you, but that doesn't slow Nat down at all, she's eager and you're wet, and it's so good you almost feel like you're going to pass out at any second.
Nat doesn't let you, though. She folds her hand into yours, linking your fingers as she devours you with your lips, keeping you in this moment with her. Not letting you escape.
The piano’s surface is cold against your back, but you're barely even aware of it, to be honest. You can't feel anything else but Nat. And that's possibly her whole point.
After a moment Nat pulls back to breathe and finally diacards your underwear. Your flimsy pink panties are left to dangle from your ankle, as Nat returns to her task to make your world a better place. She's so fucking amazing that you feel almost livid with it, because you know in your heart that you don't deserve her, you never will. But that doesn't mean you can't try.
You moan and Nat echoes it to you. Her lips are glistening as she raises her head to meet your almost fever-like gaze. She smiles, a little smug, her fingers stroking the side of your left thigh, leaving only goosebumps behind.
“You're nearly there, ya rouhi,” Nat murmurs. “Good girl,” she adds, almost cheekily, and you feel like you could burst from the seams. Or maybe just die.
You groan and kick her shoulder lightly with your foot, the underwear drooping on it flying away, which only makes her chuckle, amused at your impatience.
She leans back towards your, pressing a sweet sort of kiss to your inner thigh, making your heart feel fuller than it's ever been, before putting her mouth on you again.
You moan and sigh and groan, and Nat takes all of it as if they were a gift, her tongue working wickedly on your wet core. You think she might be naturally gifted at it, and only realise you have said it aloud, when Nat giggles, endlessly amused, with a shake of her head. Her soft hair brushes your naked sensitive skin as she shakes with laughter. You would probably get offended if you weren't so out of it, the pleasure making you feel soft as dough.
“Nat…” you say and you're not proud of how her name comes out of your mouth more like a whine.
Nat hushes you, before licking you again, almost ferociously. She wants you to come, wants it badly, and it doesn't take long for it to happen.
It's a thunderwave, a tsunami, a hurricane, and you scream so loudly that you're worried that Farah will come running soon in her need for misguided mischief.
Then you laugh. And Nat laughs, still on her knees in front of you, fully dressed. You lift yourself up as Nat retrieves your misplaced panties (they're somehow stuck on a lampshade) and brings them to you. She offers them to you, but you just raise your eyebrow and Nat ends up sliding them on you, her touch teasing and soft.
She bends down to kiss you. You kiss her.
“Well,” you say, “I wouldn't mind having more piano lessons with you some other time, Ms. Sewell.”
Nat grins. “Your desire is my command,” she says, utterly sincere.
#twc#the wayhaven chronicles#nat sewell#nat x detective#n sewell#twc fanfic#n x detective#vilna writes
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TWC Secret Santa @wayhavensecretsanta ❄ - Happy holidays, @ejunkiet!
It was an absolute pleasure to create for you, I love Lizzie and Ava so much!!! 🩵 I couldn't decide whether to draw or write, so enjoy a bit of both. (BTW I seriously recommend @ejunkiet's fics of their detective OC Lizzie Quail, they're so good.) Happy holidays again! xx P.s. If you saw me accidentally post a draft of my gift to you a few days before... Shhh no you didn't. 🥲
Summary: After Unit Bravo's holiday dinner with Detective Lizzie Quail, Felix realises all the photos he took with his polaroid camera are botched.
Wordcount: 835
Warnings: smoking, Fuzzy Holidays Feels™
Too blurry. Too crowded. Mason is holding up his middle finger. Not focused on the subject. Ava appears to be sneering?
The polaroids scatter on the floor as they’re being dropped, Felix’s frustration seemingly travelling through his fingertips and into the botched pictures as they skitter across the parquet. He had such high hopes for this holiday dinner they’ve panned - he even volunteered, much to Nat’s suspicion, to help decorate the warehouse to prepare the background for his perfect winter photos. There doesn’t seem to be a single wall or piece of furniture without strings of fairy lights or garlands hanging off them - and yet somehow, he managed to mess up all the pictures he took.
“I should have just used my phone, not this stupid polaroid Nat gave me,” he grumbles, as he sinks to the floor dramatically from the sofa. He turns his head to the left, expecting a response from Mason, but aside from the shrug of a shoulder, and a puff of smoke, he’s as disinterested as always. Felix allows his head to loll right now, and peeks through the open doors into the dining room, but his other team members are too far to share in his misery. Lizzie is in the middle of a story, which has Nat’s full attention, and Ava’s full, well, everything? Attention, adoration, respect, senses, everything. They’re cute, the way they hold hands over the table, how Ava squeezes Lizzie's hand encouragingly when she trails off or gets embarrassed by her own rambling. Felix hoped he would capture a moment between them, something candid, something like right now, but he’s missed his windows of opportunity - like for instance when Ava finally allowed herself to be dragged under the mistletoe with Lizzie, but their picture was ruined by the detective spilling her drink all over herself.
“Felix?”
“Leave me alone,” he replies, but he also cracks one eye open to make sure Nat, who’s just entered the room, doesn’t lose interest in his pity party on the floor. But she’s already retreating, so he starts flailing his limbs as if he were making a snow angel in the sea of polaroids. “Please don’t leave me alone. Mason won’t talk to me and I’m embarrassed. I messed up all the pictures. I tried taking them like you showed me but I messed up.”
“They’re not so bad,” Nat says kindly as she sits with her friend, plucking the odd semi-decent pictures from the ground. “See? This is lovely.”
“Yeah, but Lizard has hot chocolate spilt on her sweater in that one.”
“Don’t call her that,” Mason grumbles, as he sweeps some polaroids off his lap - the by-product of Felix’s snow angel performance - and flicks his cigarette into the flames of the fireplace. Nat pretends not to see, but the pain flashing across her features has already made Felix feel a little better. They spend the better of the next hour going through the pictures and sorting them out, while Mason sits close-by, smoking, lost in his thoughts. All that breaks their peace is Frank Sinatra’s drawling voice coming from the record player, and the occasional laughter from the lovebirds still camped in the dining room. By the end of it, they’re left with a handful of decent-ish photographs, and Felix wastes no time sticking them into the photo album he got from Lizzie for Christmas.
There was a moment today, a moment worth capturing, one that was befitting of the old silver screen movies Nat made him and Lizzie watch, between Ava and their beloved detective. Naturally, Felix - a rotten romantic at heart - is pissed that he wasn’t able to capture it. It was a moment far better than the forced kiss under the mistletoe, a moment of intimacy, when the pair thought they were away from prying eyes. A hand under Lizzie’s jaw, Ava’s eyes fixed on the prize, wanting to kiss but being unable to take their eyes off of each other… Obviously the shutter of the camera ruined it, causing the pair step away from each other, and Lizzie to hide her blushing cheeks behind the curtain of her frizzy hair, but that’s beside the point. They were happy. Maybe happier than he’s ever seen them. Things are often so fucked up, with the odds always stacked against them, that Felix sometimes lives in the comfort of these moments. He lives in his family’s happiness, in his friends’ laughter, in Lizzie’s tight hugs, in Ava’s pats on the shoulder… If he could, he’d capture all these moments in a jar and keep them very close always. Photographs are the next best thing - which is why he’s bummed out the picture he took of this moment must be so unrecognisable that it was swallowed by his sea of botched photographs.
He’s lost in thought when Mason nudges his shoulder, a polaroid of Lizzie and Ava in his hand stretched towards him.
“Found this under the sofa. Not too bad, if you’re into this lovey-dovey shit.”
#twc secret santa#ava du mortain#twc detective#twc fanart#twc fanfic#dottiechanart#dottiechan writes#digital art#other people's ocs
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The art of losing
Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Characters: f!detective (Sadie Langford) & Unit Bravo Word count: ~2.5k A/N: Here's my secret santa for @nsewell. I had so much fun getting to know Sadie for this @wayhavensecretsanta! She's a sweetheart and I hope I did her justice. I hope you'll enjoy this!!
A yell echoes down the corridors as soon as Morgan steps inside the warehouse, making her instinct take over as she runs to the source of the ruckus.
The screams lead her to the living room, and although she’s not quite sure what to expect, she understood, as the screams turned into a weird mix of laughter and complaints, that she didn’t have to worry. So, when she reaches the door, it’s not worry guiding her anymore but curiosity. What she definitely didn’t expect to find though, is the rest of the team, sitting on the carpet, Ava, towering over the other three as she kneels over the coffee table; pointing an accusing finger at Farah.
“I know you’re cheating!” She growls, almost making Morgan shiver. This is a tone the commanding agent rarely uses on them - despite them constantly getting on her nerves - and Ava must have sensed the very faint hint of fear in her teammates as her tone is way softer, almost pleading, when she adds: “You keep taking the pot!”
“How the heck do you want me to cheat!? I didn’t even know the rules of that game half an hour ago! You’re just mad because you’re losing-” The young vampire retorts, before she adds with a little glint of mischief in her eyes “-loser!”
Morgan has to hold back a laugh when Ava’s ears flush red with anger and Nat quickly scouts closer to her to land a soothing hand on her friend’s shoulder. She remembers a similar night, decades ago, when they had to ban game nights after Ava forced them to play the same game for hours because she kept losing or could tell that they were letting her win on purpose. Had she known they were playing a game, Morgan would have actually avoided the living room at all cost.
She catches Sadie’s gaze and cannot hold it anymore. The detective is seated between Ava and Farah and the look of pure panic in her eyes gives away that she’s regretting not going to the local Christmas market like they had planned. That she would have rather braved the heavy-falling snow than whatever is going on right now.
‘Get me out of here’ she mouths, but Morgan doesn’t make any move to help her. In fact, she steps even further into the room, thinking this debacle might at least entertain her for a little while. It’s not like she’s got anything else to do anyways.
The detective, realizing that she won’t be able to get out so easily, mouths again ‘I hate you’, to which Morgan answers by blowing a kiss in her direction.
Admitting her defeat, Sadie holds up her cat in Ava’s direction. “Could you hold while I play my turn, please?” She asks, barely hiding her attempt at defusing the situation.
And for a second, Morgan thinks this might work as Ava eyes the hairless cat, barely annoyed at being handled in such a way. She watches as the commanding agent sits back down, crossing her leg, almost preparing to take the cat. That is until she goes “You’ve been holding him just fine the whole time.”
Sadie makes a face at her. “Yeah, well unlike you, my legs are getting numb.” She states, not waiting for the vampire’s answer before putting the sheriff in her lap. The cat is already falling back asleep.
There's a moment of latency as everyone waits for Ava's reaction and, as she doesn't show any sign of exasperation, Sadie reaches for something on the table and the silence falls heavier when she makes it spin.
Morgan steps a little closer and sits on the sofa behind Sadie. On the table, she makes out the blurred lines of a wooden spinning top. Underneath it, the detective is crossing her fingers as tightly as she can bear.
In front of Sadie, two glass pebbles are sitting on the table. Morgan looks around the table and noticing that the others have similar piles before them - some much bigger, like Farah’s, and others only containing one more than Sadie’s stash, like Ava’s - she understands, despite having no idea what game they’re playing, that her friend is losing.
The four faces of the spinning top become more and more visible as it slows down and starts wobbling. Although she can now make out the symbols on the four faces of the toy, she still doesn’t know what they’re supposed to represent. She hears Sadie take a deep breath before she actually stops breathing. She can’t help but think the human is being a little-over dramatic, but then…
***
The dreidel finally tips over and…
“Nun!” she yells, much louder than she intended.
She hears Morgan hissing sharply behind her and realizes she’s probably broken her eardrums. So she turns around and mouths a silent apology, to which the vampire answers with only a grunt, before she goes back to the game.
Sadie stares at the dreidel laying on its side and lets out a relieved sigh. She’s not losing that round either, she thinks before handing her dreidel to Ava. The vampire sitting by her side, mumbles something as she does, but Sadie doesn’t get it.
The two are competing for the second to last place and, so far, Ava is winning. Sadie crosses her fingers once again and prays. She prays that Ava lands on ‘Shin’, which would force her to add another token into the pot, meaning they’d be even. But as she realizes what she’s praying for, Sadie is torn between shame and an irrepressible need to laugh. She’s usually not that competitive, but seeing how invested she is in that game, she guesses being around Ava is starting to rub on her.
Ava spins the dreidel and it flies across the room, making everyone duck.
“Ava!” They all scream in unison.
“What?” She asks, acting like nothing happened. She acts like it’s completely normal to turn a dreidel into a projectile, despite the fact that they all know how much control she has over her own strength.
Her ears turn pink as they all stare at her and she sheepishly avoids their gaze. A move Sadie has grown accustomed to these past months: she is trying to hide the shame of letting her emotions get the best of her.
A loud gasp echoes around the room and they all turn to Nat who went to fetch the toy. “Ava! It made a dent in the wall!” she cries in horror, staring at the toy encrusted in the wall.
Sadie’s mouth falls wide open and she struggles to hold back a laugh, but as she sees Farah and Morgan trying as hard as she is not to laugh and that the rest of Ava’s face is turning a bright shade of red, she cannot help but crack up in laughter.
Ava and Nat instantly start arguing like an old married couple about repairing that hole.
But as the argument grows in length, Sadie’s attention is caught by a flash of light in the middle of the room. She could have sworn the Christmas tree wasn’t turned on when she got here earlier this afternoon.
Farah, noticing her confusion, leans in her direction. “I set a timer,” she whispers, “although magic would have been cool!” She adds like she had just guessed what the human was thinking.
“You can do that with Christmas lights?” Sadie asks, genuinely surprised by that fact.
“Nat bought really fancy ones” Farah explains and Sadie can’t help but chuckle at this.
Knowing Nat she should have known everything they had gotten to decorate the place was really expensive and she dares not imagine how much she actually paid. But judging by the tree sitting in the middle of the room, she probably spent more than Sadie’s salary this month.
This tree is so gigantic it’s almost comical. Upon seeing it, her first thought had been about Ava having a heart-attack when she first saw it and having another one when Nat asked her to bring it inside. Because although Nat could probably make Ava do anything as long as she used her best pleading eyes, Sadie is still wondering what Nat could have possibly bribed Ava with so that she accepted to do it. Not that she doubts Ava could do it, in fact, Sadie knows Ava can haul a tree without any difficulty. It’s just that her brain still cannot comprehend how she managed to fit that ginormous tree - that almost touches the high ceiling and takes up half of the room - through the tiny doors of the warehouse.
Yet it’s not the size that made Sadie burst into laughter when she first saw it, but rather the wide array of colors ornating it and she instantly guesses Farah had been the one doing the decoration.
She remembers the young vampire, less than a couple weeks ago, begging Ava to get a Christmas tree so that, as she put it, she could get the best of the human experience. But the commanding agent had refused, so Sadie supposes Farah must have changed strategy after that refusal and pulled on Nat’s heartstrings so that she would indulge her, like she always does, especially when Farah pulls the ‘I never got to be human’ card.
And today, Sadie was met with this… She’s not quite sure how to describe it. Calling it an atrocity would be quite harsh, but this is definitely a little bit of an eyesore. It’s like Farah had randomly grabbed garlands and ornaments and let her excitement take over when she put them on the tree. It kind of reminds her of that time her kindergarten teacher would let them decorate the Christmas tree in her room every year.
Sadie still has to hold back a laugh when she thinks of Nat’s reaction when she first saw it. She actually snorted when they decided to settle in the living room and saw Nat scrunching her nose at the sight of it, desperately trying to hide the fact that she disliked the arrangement. Before that, she had even caught her trying to arrange some of the garlands a little more neatly and actively replacing some. Nat had begged her not to tell Farah.
There’s a loud grunt by her side and Sadie realizes Ava and Nat have stopped arguing. And it seems like Ava has already played her turn. The dreidel they both share is laying on the table and she can’t believe her eyes. Ava has to put another token into the pot.
“This isn’t fair,” the vampire grunts.
“You’ve just got bad luck,” Nat tries to soothe her.
“My spinning wasn’t optimal. The cat sleeping in my lap is reducing my range of movement.”
“Are you really blaming the sheriff because you’re losing?” Sadie asks, offended.
“All I’m saying is that I couldn’t spin the dreidel properly.”
“Yet you’re still petting the cat,” Farah points out.
Ava’s mouth opens as she looks for something to say, but nothing comes out and instead she readjusts her position to accommodate the sheriff as he shifts in her lap. Sadie shakes her head, forces herself to look away not to let her feelings transpire. Yet she can’t hide the soft smile tugging at her lips after noticing the fondness with which Ava looks at her cat. Neither can she hide her heart beating a little too erratically.
She clears her throat. “It’s your turn, Nat,” she announces, barely hiding her attempt at changing the subject.
Yet as the small wooden top starts its rotation, her attention is brought back to the vampire sitting beside her.
Ava is readjusting the hairless cat’s sweater. She tugs on it, making sure it covers most of the sheriff’s body, despite the fact that it's not cold inside the warehouse. She rolls the little collar properly so that it doesn’t bother him, and when she’s done she scratches him behind the ears, a spot he particularly likes.
She likes catching these moments where the commanding agent briefly lets her guard down. These moments where her caring nature shows. Not only with her cat, but also with the members of the team. When she helps Nat to cook, despite the fact that she herself doesn’t eat. When she listens to Farah’s new interest that week and actively asks questions so that Farah knows she’s listening even though she doesn’t really understand what she’s saying. How she closes the blinds without a word when the sun shines a little too brightly through the windows, bothering Morgan. How she often comes to check on her when she’s sleeping over at the warehouse, making sure Sadie has everything she needs.
Despite how much she hates admitting it, she cares deeply for every single one of them.
Ava looks at her, a puzzled look on her face, and Sadie quickly reverts her eyes. She tries to find something else to look at other than the vampire sitting beside her, and her eyes land on the menorah sitting on the mantel.
This is the first menorah she has lit in years and, to be honest, she didn’t expect to find one here today - just like she wasn’t expecting the Christmas tree. But what really moved her was its beauty.
Sadie is usually not a material person, but this menorah is amazingly well-crafted.
It looks a little bit like a tree made out of brass. The trunk divides into two branches, on each of them sits four flowers to hold the eight candles. The ninth flower sits in the middle, slightly higher than the others, and holds the shamash.
Vines spread out on each side of the trunk and rise to coil around the two branches holding the candles. On those vines are carved small, intricate flowers.
Upon seeing it, she teared up a little at the thought that Nat must have spent so much time carefully picking such a gorgeous menorah for her.
And so, after the sunset, before they started playing, she kindled the first candle, answering Farah’s questions about its meaning.
Someone taps on her shoulder, bringing her attention back to the game. They’re all looking at her expectantly and she understands that they’re waiting for her to add another token to the pot so that they can start another round of spinning, meaning she’s left with only one glass pebble.
Ava hands her the dreidel. She spins it and once again she’s crossing her fingers.
Sadie looks around herself as the spinning top starts wobbling. Ava is discreetly trying to pet her cat who purrs in the vampire laps, making the others chuckle. Farah whispers something to Morgan and they share a mischievous look and the detective wonders what they’re up to, although she’ll come to know sooner or later. Nat is sipping on her tea, keeping a fond eye on each of them and she smiles when their gaze meets.
The dreidel lands on ‘Shin’, but Sadie doesn’t care. She does feel a tinge of disappointment, especially since she has just taught them to play. But after all, this game is all about luck and she realizes she’s been lucky enough to find a new family this year, so maybe that’s all the luck she needed.
#wayhavensecretsanta#the wayhaven chronicles#twc detective#other people's ocs#twc unit bravo#twc fanfic#if: twc#ali's writing
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