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umbralsound-xiv · 2 months

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The Things We Must Do.

Another suuuuper long sun. Not awful though, but man did i ache! A good kind of ache, though. The sort that makes it feel... Worth it.

Vhal'ra Ansahk strolls along the path, stretching out his arms with a groan. Blade at his back, Vhal'ra had at least managed the sun relatively unscathed, if not a little weary. He seems destined for the company house, headed there in a slump… At least until a familiar pink-haired figure catches his attention. Turning on his heel, lowered ears suddenly perk, offering the keeper a friendly wave. "Hey! Ally! It's been a while!"

Alari Nelhah had been looking down at her hands in her lap for quite some time, ears slightly droopy before they too perked up in surprise at the voice, looking up with startled eyes to see a face she recognized. "O-oh! Uhm… Hi, Vhal'ra." She smiled meekly at him, though she could not muster a wave in return. Instead her hands kept fidgeting and gripping slightly at the fabric of her skirt.

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "You doing okay? It's been a bit! I know it's been a little quiet at the company save for the odd scuffle the commander asks for help with." He approaches to perch on the bench beside her, giving his usual cheery smile. "How's the training been going?"

It's been a bit since i talked to her proper! Between training and little contracts and everything else, it's actually been fairly busy...

Alari Nelhah: "I… I'm doing okay. Uhm… I have.. been training, a lot." Her hands clutched the fabric of her skirt in a tighter grip as she averted her eyes, hesitating. "… It.. I think I have improved." It took a moment before she dared meet Vhal'ra's eyes again. "How have.. you been? Have you also been… training?"

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "That's great! And… Yeah! I mean, today i fought a ziz! How cool is that? It didn't even hit me! My sword feels way lighter, but i'm not sure if i'm just getting stronger, or if i wasn't thinking about it as much. But still! Training is good, especially if you've improved!" Vhal'ra chirps, looking to her… And lowers his ears when she only briefly meets his eyes. "Uh… I'm sorry if i'm bothering you. Just dawned on me you might've come out here for peace, rather than to listen to me talk your ears off…"

I... Uh. Y'know, i'm not oblivious to me being so talkative, that sometimes i don't catch myself fast enough on the case that i've annoyed them. Ally doesn't seem quite like herself, but... ...Maybe she's tired?

Alari Nelhah manages another little smile towards Vhal'ra as he tells her of his adventures. "No, I… I like listening to you, Vhal'ra. Truly. And… I do believe you have gotten stronger. It.. I can see it." She took a moment to look him up and down before she got flustered by her own staring and her eyes shifted to her hands again. "You… weren't hurt, I hope?"

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "Nope! Well, i tripped over a treestump on the way back because i was tired, but no, not really." Sighing with a bemused huff, he combs his fingers through his hair. "Well, if i ever do talk too much, i don't mind you saying, yeah? Folk back at the Clan always said i asked too many questions. What about you? I can imagine archery training… I've heard getting welts from a bowstring -really- hurts…"

Alari Nelhah: "It… it does hurt when it happens, yes. And it.. happens now and then, but… It hasn't been.. too bad. It doesn't happen that much anymore, thankfully…" She fidgeted with her hands, wishing she was holding something she could fiddle with as she considered what to say next. "I uhm… I actually.. joined Bexy.. I-I mean the commander… on a battle recently."

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "You did? I… I saw the note, but i didn't think i'd be good enough for anything like that. And… I know you were fighting people, so…" He looks over over, suddenly far more worried than he had been. "You okay? Did you get hurt? You managed to do what you… Went out to do, yeah? I wasn't sure what, but… It sounded a bit cryptic."

That's so cool! And... Kinda dangerous? Though i guess i don't really know what was going on there. I just figured... Y'know. It's a little more than my level. Not sure i'm ready for fighting another person, yet...

Alari Nelhah: "I-I'm… uhm…" Alari's hands tightened in her lap. "I-I wanted to help… I.. I knew it would be dangerous… But I wanted to.. do something…" She clutched her hands so tightly her arms began to shake, unable to look at Vhal'ra as she spoke. "I-I'm okay, I was.. only a little hurt, it… has healed now…" The more she spoke, the unsteadier her voice became. "I-It was so.. different from hunting… To.. to aim at… people.. and…"

Vhal'ra Ansahk slowly bobs her head to her words, a wide, encouraging smile at first. But at the waver, at the way she began to shake from holding himself, that smile lessons, and his ears slowly lower. "…Ally, you…" He hesitates a little, not wanting to say it outright but not wanting to jump to the wrong conclusions. "You… You fought people." He pauses, looking to her. "…Hurt them?" He'd hoped it was just that, though he fights to meet her gaze.

Alari Nelhah: "I-I…" she starts before her breath hitches. "I-I hurt them… I-I killed-…" One hand moved up to cover her mouth in an attempt to prevent the sound of a sob escaping her throat. "I-I have always struggled with my aim… I-I should be proud that I… hit my marks so well, and yet…"

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "You… Oh… Ally…" It's clear Vhal'ra doesn't know what to say, how to make it better. All he can do is rest a hand on one of her trembling forearms. "I… I don't know how it feels. I… I know i probably will one day, but… Oh, Ally, i'm sorry…"

I... I don't know what to say. I mean... We're adventurers, yeah? I know that doesn't make it any easier, or make it feel better, but.. Oh, Ally, i'm so sorry. ...I don't know how to make it better...

Feeling the comforting hand on her arm was enough for Alari to finally give in to the lump in her throat and let out a whimper, not even attempting to prevent the tears that formed in her eyes from welling over. "I-I had never before… N-now I have someone's.. blood on my hands… Why do I feel so… terrible about this..!" She sniffled as she began wiping her cheeks as best as she could. "I-I can still hear the… terrible sound of their screams… I-it haunts me even in my sleep…" Finally she turned to face Vhal'ra, nose red from crying, eyes glossy and rosy cheeks wet with tears. "V-Vhal'ra, I… I don't know what to do…"

His hand retreats from her arm, as though he'd somehow worsened her state, but he listens before adding anything, ears wilted and a rarely seen frown on his lips. Shuffling over a little, he opens an arm should she want the comfort of a hug, but it's entirely on her terms if so. "Even… Even if they were bad. Or if they were gonna hurt you, or someone else. I think… I think it's pretty normal about feeling bad about hurting someone. Killing someone, even if they're our enemies, you know? I... I… I don't know what to do. I don't think my advice would be very good. Maybe… Maybe talk to some of the others? Surely… It wasn't easy for them either, yeah? Not the first time, maybe…"

All i could think was to give her a hug. Even if i can't really give any good advice, i... I didn't want her to feel alone. And, y'know. I guess it's... Normal to be upset. After killing someone. Maybe when... I have to. I hope i'm upset, i guess. It would be scary if i didn't feel a thing...

Alari Nelhah sniffled and attempted to wipe her eyes again as she glanced at the opened arm. While she did hesitate for a moment, any feelings of embarrassment was soon cast aside as the yearning for comfort was stronger and she soon found herself having shuffled closer and leaning into the hug. "I-I don't know… It.. looked so easy for the others, like… Like it was nothing… Like they were… hunting…" She paused, thinking of what she had seen. "I-is that what it's like? Is… that what we have to learn? To… to fight? To become stronger?"

Vhal'ra Ansahk wraps his arm around her shoulder, offering a gentle pat as he comforted her. "I mean… They are mercenaries. I know it doesn't always mean we have to fight other people but… I know sometimes we do. They've just been doing it a lot longer. Maybe… Maybe they were just as scared as you, the first time. I… Don't know. I think… I think if you weren't upset about it, that would be… Worse somehow. Like it wouldn't have been… Important. So… I think it's okay that you're upset, even if i'm sorry that you are…"

Alari Nelhah sniffled softly as she listened to Vhal'ra's words, her sobbing slowly but surely calming down the more she listened and talked. "Th-they all looked so confident… It.. is so hard to imagine them like… Me.. like… us." She again lifted her hand to wipe her cheek. "Vhal'ra, do you… You said you think it will happen to you sometime too.. right? Do you.. does the thought… frighten you?"

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "…Yeah. A little. Mostly because i don't try to think about it, but…" He doesn't release her, and part of it may very well be in discomfort for his answer. "I think it's one of those things that… It's scary in the moment. But if you have to kill someone to protect someone else, or yourself, i mean… It's the better option, yeah?" Despite his words, his expression doesn't seem to brighten any. "Not… A good option. Not really. Just a better one. I think it's one of those things which is scary when it's happening, and… Then a different kind of scary, when it's finished happening…"

Alari Nelhah listened quietly, carefully watching Vhal'ra's expression as he spoke. "To kill to protect… I.. I can understand that. It's just…" She fiddled a bit with her hands in her lap again. "This… something about this felt… almost wrong. Despite them being.. enemies…" She sighed to give herself pause. "It.. the goal was to… kidnap one of them… For information. When I hear myself say it, it sounds so… gruesome."

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "That.. When you say it out loud…" Vhal'ra shakes his head, but doesn't let go. "…You just went to help. I mean… There's gotta be some reason why they… That's…" He struggles, brow knit. "There's gotta be a reason they're doing it, yeah? Like… They wouldn't just kidnap someone for no reason, or… At least more than information? I… Don't know. Do you?"

Kidnapping people. I... I always thought that was something bad people did. But... We're not like that. I can't really say i've met the commander. She passed by me in a hallway once, and i didn't even get chance to say hi, but... There has to be a reason, yeah? 'to always said the world isn't so black and white.

Alari Nelhah: "I-I don't know… Bexy- I mean… The commander said that they were of the same group of criminals that… she had been hunting before. Those who… took Eir and Sayuri. They… did something bad to Sayuri, and… the commander wants to know how to fix it. I-I think…"

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "Then… Maybe after it's fixed, they'll let him go…?" He doesn't sound so sure. "I… Know they did bad things. Things that hurt good people. I don't… Think killing is ever good, but… I think, if i had to, i'd want it to be someone like that. Someone who hurts people for fun, or… Someone like them. You were just doing it to help, and… I don't think that's a bad thing. If… It makes you feel any better, it won't change anything!" He looks to her, mustering a smile. "…We'll always be friends, at least. Even if i don't really know how to help, or if something bad is happening. Even if it's at some weird hour. You ever need a friend, i won't be far!"

Alari Nelhah almost looked surprised by Vhal'ra's final words. She simply looked at him for several seconds before her eyes glossed over again and she had to wipe them,sniffling as she managed a genuinely grateful smile. "Th-thank you, Vhal'ra. It… I can't describe in words how much it means to me. I'm… so happy to have you as a friend." Though it was a little embarrassing, she decided to lean into the hug once more to enjoy the soothing feeling of it. "… You too. If you.. ever need a friend, someone to listen… or talk to, or… if you need help in any way… I want to be there."

Opting to join the other arm into the hug, he embraces her properly; a tight, comforting thing that seemed well practised for someone his age. He does eventually let her go, giving her the usual smile he normally did. "I know you will be, Ally. You're a good friend. A good person." He confirms with a nod, as though it were fact and couldn't have been anything other than the truth. "Don't you let anyone tell you otherwise. Not even yourself."

Alari Nelhah smiled shyly before nodding. "Okay… And.. Vhal'ra, you are also… a good person. You're someone who… cares for others. Who always sees the… good things in life, no matter what. I… I admire that. I hope that… I can be like you someday."

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "Well, i sure try to be!" He beams, almost as a response to her smile. "It's why i left home! I always wanted to be an adventurer, or a mercenary, just like my brother! Helping people… It's nice, you know?" At her latter comment, even he gets a little red in the cheeks. "A-admire me? But i haven't done anything really worth admiring!"

Why... Why would she want to be anything like me? I've never done anything amazing or special...! I haven't even been on a proper contract!

Alari Nelhah: "B-but I think you have!" Alari responded in earnest. "Just now you were out battling dangerous beastkin, and… I know you always try to help when you hear that someone is in need. You… never hesitate, even if there is danger involved. Even when things are unknown… you always give it your all." Her gaze drifted in thought. "… I want to be like that too. Ready to do what is needed… even when things are uncertain or scary. Because… because somewhere, someone needs you."

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "But Ally… You already have…" Vhal'ra nods, trying to convince her. "When the Commander was looking for people, you went to help! It was scary, but you were brave, Ally! You -are- brave! Sure, i'm a lot better than i was when it comes to fighting beastkin, and i'm not scared of most of them now… But you went to help, even when things got scary. That's brave."

Alari Nelhah had to look down at her hands in her lap for a moment as being described as 'brave' was making her feel strangely flustered. "… Brave… I.. thank you." While she was still looking at her hands, there was a soft smile on her lips. "… I still don't feel great about what happened. But… I feel like I am growing. It's a good feeling. For so long I have felt like I never could grow." She looked up at him. "Uhm… Vhal'ra? Can I… can I come with you sometime?"

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "Come with me?" He asks, head lopping to one side. "You mean… Out helping people?" There was a pause, almost uncertainty whether he'd just her her right, blinking those pale purple eyes between fronds of hair.

Alari Nelhah nodded shyly. "I… think I won't cause so much trouble with my aim anymore. I… I want to try. I… I also want to help people, like you do. And… see how you do it."

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "That would be -awesome-!" The word is almost cheered, ears high and a smile bright enough to lift his mood. "We can be our own little adventuring duo! I'll fight them up close, and it'll be way easier knowing you're with me!"

...It's like 'to's adventuring party! It's like how it started! Me and Ally! We could do so much cool stuff together! So many contracts! I can't wait!

Seeing the excitement on Vhal'ra's face caused Alari to smile a little more confidently. "I-I hope I'll be able to help you… in any way I can. I think… knowing I'm not alone will make me feel… braver too." She looked up at the sky for a moment to determine the current time before standing up, looking to be doing a lot better now than before. "Thank you again, Vhal'ra. I… I feel much better now. I think I will be going back to the company house now." She tilted her head a little. "Uhm.. do you… want to come along? I-If you were heading that way too, I mean…"

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "Yeah! It'll be nice knowing someone has my back!" He pushes off the bench to join her, far more full of energy than he had been than when he'd first arrived. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Ally. You ever need anything, whether it's someone to listen, or a hug or… Anything, you just ask, yeah?" Grinning, he tilts his head. "…And yeah, i was heading back too. I should probably grab something to eat before i turn in for the sun…"

Alari Nelhah: "Uhm… I-I should probably also eat somethi-" Alari did not manage to finish her sentence before a grumbling from her stomach rudely interrupted her, causing her to stare at Vhal'ra with big eyes as her face heated up in embarrassment. Clearly it had been some time since she last ate. "..!"

Vhal'ra Ansahk: "---We'll get something together! There's always good food in the kitchen, and if not, we can just have sandwiches!" He begins wandering up the path, not so much minding for the sound of imminent hunger.

While flustered, Alari still made sure to keep up with Vhal'ra's energetic steps, even if her own were much more timid and awkward. "That.. sounds really nice. Let's… let's get something to eat, then." While her face was still burning from embarrassment, she still managed a small smile Vhal'ra's way as they made their way to the company estate.

...I wonder what we'll do first? Maybe i should start looking? Maybe an escort, or maybe we could go hunt something that's been causing bother! Together, we can do a lot more! ...Just... Maybe not anything with people. I don't want to upset her, and... ...I don't think i'm ready for that, either.

#Muse: [Vhal'ra]#Chapter: [Following His Footsteps]#FFXIV #IC #Screenshot #Writing #Textlog

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thesilverlock · 11 months

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Astral for the character ask!

(( Aa! Aw! Thank you! ^^ ))

(( And thank you @cozymochi for asking me about him too~ xD <3 ))

What I love about them:

H h i m. 🥺🤲 I love him so much. He had me at the initial aesthetic of being a pretty and elegant and beautiful alien boy. And then just,, made me fall in love with the rest of him? How he is so brilliant yet naive, and curious yet brutal, and a wordsmith who is sassy but can be very, very tender too sometimes? There’s so much more, but brain can’t function because I did this ask backwards and answered this last Lmao *wobbling metal sheet noises*

What I hate about them:

What do you MEAN you’re going to lie to Yuma, trick him into thinking you’re gonna genocide Barian World anyway, tell him you will take the Numbers and Erase His Mind, unless he wins a duel that he had to challenge you to? AND IT WAs A TRICK? TO "GET HIS KATTOBINGU BACK"? WHAT? Why are you out here pulling Vector level shenanigans... to the very person you gave such hell to... for his participation in the Vector shenanigans? I-??

Favorite Moment/Quote:

“Yuma. Please. You are embarrassing me, and I am invisible.” HELPME

What I would have liked to see more focus on:

I really, really wish we could have gotten a ZEXAL III that delved better into Astral World, and that whole backstory, and have Astral as a more central focus. It often felt like Astral got the least development and attention compared to Kite and especially Shark.

What I would have liked to see less focus on:

It’s hard to pick something that had “too much” focus with him, because as mentioned in prev question, canon sorta really shirked him compared to the rest of the mains. He was often written and treated more like an accessory than a character of his own.

Favorite pairing with:

jey Been a tried and true taintedshipper since the early twenty-tens! It’s on the lower end of my very, very, very short list of ships nowadays~ but nonetheless going strong 10+ years lolol

Favorite friendship:

The sad thing is, I feel like I can’t really answer this, because he has like no real friendship with anyone outside of Yuma. :< He’s kinda in Yuma’s friend group by default, and they don't? talk? They did two or three "friendly" things for him, but nothing reciprocal really happened? He always calls them “Yuma’s friends”, never once claims them as his own, and for the majority of canon he’s inside the pendant when it’s just them around to a degree that lowkey and hilariously reads a little avoidant. xD Give Astral an actual real second friend? Pls? Konami-

NOTP:

Yuma and Astral. Don’t wanna rehash early 2010s tumblr trauma nBDVffd but let’s just say I have my reasons and leave it cryptically at that LMAO

Favorite headcanon:

OH GOSH. JUST ONE? UM- I do really love the interpretation of his “human form” having freckles that are constellations, or are just naturally 'starry’-like to that degree 🥺

#(( THANK YOU SM for the ask!! It was very appreciated~! <3 ))#| astral ✧ |#(( THE GLOW BOY~! He is a beloved yis yis ))#(( Thank you Coni (and Cozy) for the ask!! ^^ <3 ))#| blue rambles | º☕︎

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thefools-journey · 3 years

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So. Some of you may be wondering why we haven’t written a whole ton about the secondaries or what have you. Here’s the reason: we were waiting for them to end before we really dug into the problems we were noticing. We felt that it was only fair to wait for the routes to finish so that we had an understanding of the writers’ vision. Who knew, we thought, maybe they would see the problems themselves and course correct, maybe they are building to something we can’t quite see yet and these issues will have actual payoff, maybe-

In light of Muriel and Lucio’s endings, and the general mess that has dominated Portia’s route for a year plus now, we are breaking our silence. We are actually going to talk about this shit show.

The fandom at large has talked about a bunch of issues with the secondaries but for me, the cardinal sin, the thing that really all the issues lead back to, is this: the writers lost sight of the tarot themes which so strongly defined and held together the primary routes. Let me explain.

The primary routes each center around three thematic cores:

The Love Interest’s Major Arcana and its Reversed/Upright meanings

The MC’s Fool’s Journey, both how it can go right and how it can go wrong

A question about the MC’s identity and their relationship to said identity

Asra’s route asks: Who was the MC? How does the MC navigate a past they cannot and will not remember? What do they owe a past they cannot remember? How do they handle the revelations of what Asra, Nadia, Julian, etc did? How do you right the past? Can you?

Nadia’s route asks: Who is the MC? The MC has no past. Are they the Fool only? Are they actually the same person they were? How can they tell? Who are they, really? Are they an imposter? No one can answer these questions for them.

Julian’s route asks: Who will the MC become? How does the MC see their future? Is there anything worth fighting for for that future? What will become of them and their loved ones?

Now, if you notice, these themes are expertly woven throughout the primaries. Asra’s past dominates his route, Nadia is also missing memories and trying to construct her identity both with her family and with Vesuvia, and Julian’s fear of the future drives his flailing for control. Asra has to learn to take a broader view of his actions to get his Upright Ending, Nadia has to learn to trust herself and those around her for hers, and Julian has to learn how to let go for his. These lessons are the issues their cards stand for. The primaries are so dang elegant and delicate in their handlings of theme it is honestly awe-inspiring.

Thematically, the secondary routes have completely lost their hearts. First of all, the MC does not have strong, core questions which need to be answered. They just don’t. I suppose the writers did not want to retread old territory (which is weird considering how tightly bound the primaries are; it really tricks you into thinking you’re living the same events but from different angles depending on your route) but they did not replace the old with anything new. Muriel’s route is, on the surface, about discovering and owning his past, the good and the bad. Why not tie MC’s self-discovery to that story? Or they could have taken the angle that Muriel’s route is about convincing him to be present and active in the world while MC builds an identity for themself outside of Asra, the shop, and the memories they cannot retrieve. Why not tie the investigation themes running through Portia’s early route back to MC and their past? Portia has the unique angle of being as in the dark as MC about all of this, why not discover the past together? And for goodness’ sake, Lucio has no future when his route begins, why not tie that to his need for growth, responsibility, and MC’s own future between the Fool, the Devil, or something mortal and in between?

Secondly, the routes lost their tarot backbone. We have a primer on how to get specific endings for each LI and it still holds, but the writers did not follow through on the thematic coherence of each secondary. The Hermit is looking for something, be it perspective, insight, a solution to a problem, whatever. The key here is that the Hermit must find or learn what they are searching for, this thing must change their understanding of the world, and finally, they must bring this lesson back to the world from which they retreated. Can someone please enlighten me as what exactly Muriel learns then teaches the world around him? Nothing Muriel learns from Morga, MC, or even the Hermit ties back into anything. The Devil warns that you are out of control and exerting a lot of manipulative, destructive behavior on the world around you. It asks you to take responsibility for yourself and your actions. So can someone tell me why Lucio’s route actively avoids any interaction or reflection on two of Lucio’s biggest victims: Muriel and Julian? Why does the route only try to make amends with the “easier” of his victims in the cast? The Star is first and foremost the card of clarity, the light at the end of the tunnel. Perseverance, if you will. Yet Portia’s route has been the muddiest of the trio; the writers drop the investigation aspect of her route in favor just handing her and MC information they could have easily found and muddying the waters with Tasya (she blows up the palace but it’s all okay bc she has a secret daughter Julian never thought to bring up or mention) and the complete removal of the Devil as antagonist.

So that leaves just the Fool’s Journey trying to hold this stool up with only one leg. And well...it doesn’t go well. At best, the secondary route books pay the barest surface level homage to the themes of the individual cards. At worst, they ignore the cards completely. Muriel's Moon book has nothing to do with illusions or delusions or lies or even an Alice in the Looking Glass upside down world. Portia's back half is a complete and utter mess, starting with her Temperance book being so badly mangled that Muriel's aftermath book does it better. Lucio's route too bungles the Tower and the Star. There just isn't enough here to carry the routes alone.

Add to the core loss the loss of intertextuality. The primary routes are very good, even great but they too do have their moments and mistakes. What helps strengthen them when the cores stumble is how the trio is woven together. Things you learn in Asra's route can inform the way you play Nadia's, for example. Julian's route informs what is going on in Asra's route and slots some missing puzzle pieces together. Nadia's route tells you of the power struggles she is facing and informs the other two routes' handling of Julian and his trial. On and on, the three routes support each other because they are built out of the same basic plot beats, just tackled in very different ways. Now, the writers are allowed to try and write whatever they want. They apparently wanted to be more experimental and less tied down to an overarching plot with the three secondaries. Okay, fine, they are allowed to do that. The problem is that they sacrificed one of the key strengths of the primary trio and didn't replace said strength with anything else. They also, on some level, harmed the very premise of the game, which is that only the player's choices and route selected change the overall plot. Instead of feeling like legitimate possibilities or offshoots of the same timeline/plot, the secondaries feel almost like Arcana AUs. The secondaries throw out all relations to the primaries and each other as quickly as possible and for what?

It is probably the height of arrogance to suggest fixes for works whose behind the scenes I do not know. At the same time, some small, obvious changes could have salvaged Muriel and maybe Lucio's endings (rip Portia). Instead of having the Hermit appear as a disappointing cameo, why not have him say something cryptic to Muriel, then have MC start trying to seal the Devil. Then let Muriel use his forget me mark to cloak MC and hide them from the Devil's attacks. Protecting MC by hiding them from Lucio, keeping him focused on Muriel, seems to me a simple third solution between Muriel's desire to run and his desire to never fight again. It lets him stand up to Lucio and let him have it while holding onto who Muriel has become. The Reversed End would have MC try to draw Lucio's attention at some point, disrupting the sealing, and eventually leading to Muriel killing the Devil. With Lucio's Upright End, I just have to ask: why doesn't MC fully claim the power of the Fool instead of the Devil? We don't need the other Arcana involved in this fight; we have three routes that demonstrate that. Just have MC pull Scout into the conflict, then have Lucio tell MC he believes in them, then add his power to the mix. You got yourself a full Fool who leaves Scout guarding the realm until they and Lucio's mortal bodies fail and they return to the realm to be together forever. Boom, you're done, you can even add some ambiguous lines so that players can decide how happy their MC is with this arrangement, send me the check.

Here is the bottom line. Our group is full of aroace, and several combinations therein, individuals. We are the last group who should have gotten into a dating sim of all things. But the Arcana did something with the primaries that was special; they wrote a compelling plot with dazzling lore, complex characters, and strong themes wrapped up in a dating sim bow. The writers know better and we know they know better. I do not know what happened with the secondaries, especially around books 10-11, which is where minor issues slowly start spiraling into major ones, but it is clear that Nix Hydra needed some more planning before they released these routes. Hopefully they will learn.

TL;DR: Nix Hydra fired their tarot consultants about eighteen months ago and it has wrecked their secondary routes until they were just embarrassments. They never intended for the secondary routes to even exist and once they had to make them, they scrambled and threw out everything that made the primaries work.

- Mod Telos

#the arcana #The Arcana Game #arcana game #arcana game meta #arcana meta #arcana discourse #the arcana lucio #Lucio route #the arcana muriel #muriel route #the arcana portia #portia route #lucio morgasson #lucio montag #muriel #portia devorak #The Wheel Turns

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear.

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid.

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room.

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?”

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.”

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.”

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!”

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him.

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.”

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. ��In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?”

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions.

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.”

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?”

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.”

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression.

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.”

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.”

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours.

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you.

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?”

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.”

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.”

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure.

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.”

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?”

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.”

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.”

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.”

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?”

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.”

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.”

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.”

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.”

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?”

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes.

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.”

#hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #hannigram #hannigram x reader #the sommelier #wine #tw trauma #tw victim blaming #tw alcohol

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tu-sugar-mami · 3 years

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Tales of the side of the road: Day #1)

You're an overworked, sleep deprived, tired barista at a pretty strange coffee shop. You don't really complain, since the payment is good and you have a lot of free time, with the shop being pretty much empty and customers walking in only once in a while. The place is big, well equipped, somehow there's wifi, and you love doing what you do even if sometimes you wish you could go home. You could say the building is placed in the middle of nowhere, in a road connecting two barely populated and pretty hidden towns. The only other building anywhere in a few miles is the convenience store, an old and beaten up OxxO across the street, the cashier doesn't speak much though.

The owner is a bit... how to say it? Cryptic, to put it slightly, but that doesn't bother you at all, you barely see them, and now that you think of it perhaps the only time you spoke to them is when you were hired.

You've seen your fair share of weird stuff in three years of working here, and you even made friends with the local cult, although with a rocky start when they tried to sacrifice you to their deity. It turned out for the best, since you gained regulars that always came in with the freshest gossip. And yes, you may have gotten a small curse because of the first encounter, but hey, being occasionally possessed by a dark goddess do come handy when one of the diverse side effects is super strength and you have to lift heavy boxes of ingredients for the drinks. Because, let me tell you, the drinks you make are not regular stuff.

You specialize in a very complex form of beverages, with basic color code names, but with a flawless, delicious, magnificent taste. At least to those who are meant for.

You see, customers here are very unique, and many have tried to eat you several times before you made it clear that you were not on the menu. They learned to not underestimate your skills manouvering a broom.

Anyway, today is a specially slow day. Not even Gary —a cultist of the highest ranks, who loves his double shot 'blue' coffee— has passed by yet and you can't help but wonder what or who held him back. Though your inquiry doesn't last long, when you hear voices outside and the approach of hurried steps.

It's almost nightfall and it starts to get chilly when you get ready for yet another endless night shift. You find it odd that other people aside from Gary would swing by the shop at this hour, but well, it is your job to serve them after all, and so you tighten your apron and ready your notepad.

Like i've said before you've seen a lot of not so ordinary stuff, and when an uncommonly tall —and absolutely gorgeous— lady along with three younger, shorter women wearing at least 10 layers of cozy clothes walk in you're absolutely unfazed and instead welcome them with the brightest smile you can muster.

"Hi! Welcome to Itsy Bitchy Spider, home of the best coffee in all 24 miles around. What can i get for you today?" You say, bringing the women's attention to you.

The tall lady seems a little thrown off by your warm welcoming. Or by the weird name of the franchise, or perhaps because she wasn't expecting a fragile-looking human to be behind the counter, who knows, but she usher one of the younger girls —a brunette one, who wears a creepy but charming smile peeking from under a thick scarf— towards the counter and clears her throat. "Hello, yes, my daughter got into a little bit of a situation earlier and she has to clean herself up. We're on our way to a very important meeting and she has to be presentable."

It's only now when you notice that said daughter has bloodied clothes, and when she lifts her head you can see that there's blood dripping from her chin too. But again, not the weirdest.

"Sure ma'am," You say with a smile, wich has her giving you a curious look. "the bathroom is on that black door over there." You point and the girl goes on her way, almost skipping. Kind of adorable, you think, like a small child would be, except much older and dangerous. "So, is the cult holding a meeting? That'd explain why Gary hasn't come by." You say casually. The woman is about to answer when another uh, you suppose is a daughter too, suddenly points at the pastries countertop.

"What's that?" A redhead girl asks. She looks excited and genuinely curious about a colorful piece of a cake. You don't make them, and honestly you don't want to know what's in them, but you know they're suitable for any kind of customer that walks in, so you pull out a piece and arrange it on a plate, decorating it with red syrup, the red syrup.

"Try it, it's on the house." You wink at her while sliding the plate towards her and she looks at you like you just handed her a priceless jewel.

"Really?" She says, but is more a formality since she's already pulling the plate closer. "Look Bela! Look what i got!"

"No, Daniela you shouldn't eat that. Your tummy will hurt, you know this." The tall lady says as she grabs the plate and pull it out of Daniela's grasp, which is easy given her height. "We're sorry, but we can't take this. We have a very strict diet." She hands the plate back to you.

You smile and gently take the plate away, aware of the sad puppy eyes the redhead is giving you. You discreetly, almost as if it wasn't your intention, you put the plate within her reach and keep talking. You pretend not to notice when the girl sneakily grabs the plate and runs back to her sister to share her prize.

"Ma'am, i assure you it is perfectly safe. You're not from around here, are you? Well, let me get you acquainted with the place." Not wasting any time you quickly prepare a concoction of 'red' coffee and top it with regular whipped cream while the lady's gaze is fixed on every move. "Here, try this."

"Try what?" The dark haired girl has returned from the bathroom all freshened up and looks curiously to the tall glass you slide on the counter. "Oooh, that looks nice!"

"It is nice. It's one of the house's specials. We call it 'red coffee' though it's up to you discover if you like it."

"Cassandra, i don't think we should..." The lady seems hesitant, but when you rise the glass as close as you can to her face and she takes a whiff you can clearly see her pupils dilate. "What... is that?" She asks, breathless, as if she's just found something she craved for so long and didn't even know it.

You smirk, knowing that you guessed correctly about what would work on her. "Why don't you take a sip and find out?"

"Mother, i think you should give it a try." The blonde girl, the one who hadn't said a word since she first entered says. You notice that there's some cake frosting right on the corner of her smiling lips.

"Perhaps i should listen to you, Bela. Let's see, shall we?" The mother takes the glass from your hand, tiny in comparasion to hers, and she guides the brim of the cup to her red lips. She cautiously takes a sip and as soon as the liquid touches her tongue and she tastes, the drink is downed in seconds.

"So, what's the veredict? You like it?" You say as you put the lid on the last of another three cups of the same drink that you finished making while the cup on the lady's hand was being emptied, ready to hand over to the girls.

"It's exquisite..." She says, and you can see the awe on her face. "How?"

"Well, that's a secret, isn't it? You can come by whenever you like, we're open all day, every day." You look behind the four women and spot a grumpy looking man wearing sunglasses and a hat just outside in the parking lot. Odd when there's no sunlight to protect his eyes from, but you don't judge. "Looks like someone is looking for you." You point past them to the guy.

And sure enough:

"Alcina! Where the fuck are you? Miranda is waiting for us, we're late!"

The annoyed expression on the lady's —Alcina, now you know— face almost make you laugh, but you don't want to be disrespectful and instead you just cough a little. "Looks like we have to part ways." She says, putting the glass on the counter delicately. Her eyes are glued to your own and you can see fire in them. "For now."

The lady turns around and walks away with determination and elegance in her stride and behind her the daughters follow with the grace of young gazelles. One of them, the blonde girl turns her head enough to see you over her shoulder and waves goodbye. You wave back.

"Have a safe trip!" You say. Much, much later you'll call this 'day one', when Alcina first entered your life, but for now:

Alcina... The name feels sweet like honey in your mouth and you smile. You can't wait to see her again.

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@thejennystuttle here it is the first one i finished. I got carried away, srry. Hope u like it?

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If you love my work, buy me a coffee?

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #re8 #re8 village #my fic #lady d #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina x reader

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ridiculousn3sswrites · 3 years

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Pressing Issues

*Dick Grayson x Reader

*Summary: Detective Dick Grayson has never been annoyed by another person as much as journalist Reader.

*Warnings: Swearing, talks of gun violence (relevant to a case Dick is working on), mention of robbery (case mention), cop stuff. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: I made a post talking about this idea a while ago and finally wrote it.

Tip Jar

**********

When Detective Dick Grayson stepped on the scene, he didn’t expect anything different from what was told to him on the way there. He went about doing his thing - talking to the officers on the scene, chatting with CSI - when he heard his partner let out an exaggerated groan. Dick looked over, confused at the noise. His partner just rolled his eyes, nodding towards a woman with a press badge. “Man, why’d they send her?”

“Who’s that?” Dick asked. He’d never seen her before, but she was definitely attractive. He’d had a few press statements on other cases, and he never really saw the issue with the press. Maybe that was just from growing up around Bruce and all the media attention that brought, but the journalists he’d spoken to in Bludhaven had never been rude to him.

“That’s (y/n), she’s a monster.” His partner provided no further explanation as the woman walked up to them.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but you can’t be on the scene,” Dick immediately said. He was surprised the other officers didn’t stop her at the tape.

“Right, but those officers weren’t giving me any answers,” she told him. His partner let out a laugh.

“Grayson, you can deal with her, just get her out of the tape,” his partner said.

“Rodriguez, always nice to see you.” She smiled at his partner, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Haven’t gotten any better at your job since the last time we spoke, have you?”

“Grayson, get her out of here.” Rodriguez lost any amusement he had with the woman, and Dick knew he should get the journalist out of there before things escalated even further. Dick led her away from the scene, right to the edge of the tape but away from the small crowd that were always nosing around scenes.

“Detective Richard Grayson, how can I help you out?”

“(Y/n) (L/n), lead crime journalist for the Bludhaven Gazette. I wanted to get a feel for the scene before we put anything out about it,” she explained. “Anything you can share about what happened?”

“Alright, well we have two males hit in a drive-by, one dead on the scene. We don’t know much about motives or anything, but we’re suspecting rival gangs based on the fact this happened in a grey-zone,” Dick told her. It would be vague enough to satisfy her readers, but didn’t put anything too speculative out there. She was shaking her head as she wrote down what he said. “Wait, what’s all that about?”

“What?”

“The head shaking? What, you don’t agree with the police statement?” Dick was trying to joke with her, but he was still confused.

“It’s not a grey-zone, but I wouldn’t expect the cops to know that,” she said, challenging him. Dick tried to think back to his nightly activities, trying to figure out if he missed anything with how the city was divided. As far as he knew, this area was unclaimed. “Right, so that’s it?”

“Well, yeah. We just got on the scene not too long ago.” She just hummed, and he wasn’t sure if it was in acknowledgement or disapproval. “Hey, what’s your beef with Rodriguez?”

“For a Detective, he’s shit at his job,” she told him, clicking her pen as she put it back in her bag.

“Care to elaborate?”

“A kid got snatched, broad daylight, and Rodriguez was the lead on the case. Gave up after a few days. I dunno where you’re from, but where I’m from, we don’t give up like that, especially on a kid,” she said. “I wrote articles talking about it, and Rodriguez doesn’t like me because I called him out on it.”

“Wow, you’re pretty cutthroat,” Dick said, whistling lowly.

“I just don’t give you guys any slack. Be good at your job and you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled at him before turning on her heel and walking away. He watched as she put her phone to her ear, probably talking to someone back at the office. She scared him a little, but he was always up for the challenge.

**********

Rodriguez was right. Dick was always down for accountability, but the way you brought it into his life was a bit much. Every time there was even the slightest hint of a development, you were there with your opinions about what he was doing wrong, and if you ever had any praise for him, it was so sparse he couldn’t even tell it was praise. He was just trying to look through some files to piece together your little cryptic ‘it’s not a grey-zone’ hint, when Rodriguez tapped on his desk.

“What’s up?” He asked, looking up at his partner.

“You got a visitor.”

“God, don’t tell me…”

“Surprise, your worst nightmare is here, Grayson.”

“Aw, I got a new nickname?” You asked Rodriguez as you dropped in the chair next to Dick’s desk. Dick had to stop the groan from escaping him, really not wanting to deal with you.

“She’s your problem now,” Rodriguez said, walking away. Dick almost wished he could go with him.

“Alright, (L/n), what is it now?” Dick asked, putting down his files.

“You have ID on one of the victims and it was a guy with no connections to anything on the Underground, but no progress on the shooter? C’mon, Grayson, I thought you’d at least be better than Rodriguez.”

“I’m working with what I have,” he huffed, fighting the way he wanted to roll his eyes.

“You’re not looking at all your options. Put away the gang files, they’re not the ones you should be looking at,” you almost ordered him. “I’m practically doing your job for you at this point. I gotta run, I have an interview.”

“You’re leaving the Gazette?” Dick was almost hopeful. That would definitely make things easier on him.

“No, smart one, I’m the one doing the interviewing.”

“Wow, who would’ve guessed with your shining personality,” Dick shot back, finally annoyed.

“I’m a ray of sunshine, just not with cops,” you said with your fake little smile before leaving him there. It took everything to not slam his head against his desk.

**********

Dick always thought he was good under pressure, but this was intense. With your little article that came out the day after you talked to him - apparently your interview was with the victim’s wife - public pressure was increasing on the department tenfold. He hated to admit it, but you were good at what you did. He was almost pissed off at himself after reading the article, and that was saying something.

He needed to close this case so he could get you off his back, and he needed to do it fast. Not only did you put pressure on the department, now his superiors were putting even more pressure on him. He knew you were cryptic with what you knew, but you wanted him to put together the pieces. When he was out for his nightly patrol, he was trying to piece together what little hints you dropped.

Dick had to admitted he was silently fuming as he sat on the rooftop across from the scene of the crime. After all, what did you know? It’s not like you had access to the databases he did, both legally and in the legally grey. What did she mean it’s not gang-related? It has to be, this is disputed territory right now.

And of course something sketchy had to happen while he was doubting you. A black town car pulled up to the block, someone getting out of the passenger seat and scanning the area before going back to talk to someone in the back. Dick cursed as he grabbed his binoculars, trying to watch the scene closer to see if he could get any more information from the sketchy scene. He zoomed in on the man in the backseat, a guy dressed in an expensive-looking suit wearing sunglasses at night (like an asshole), silver rings adorning his fingers.

“No way,” Dick mumbled, taking a picture of the rings to send to Barbara later. One of them in particular looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. “How the hell did she…”

After whoever it was seemed satisfied with how the scene looked, the person got back into the car and it pulled off, the tires screeching in the quiet of the night. As soon as Dick finished his patrols for the night, he sent the picture off to Barbara. She called him as soon as she ran the picture. “Hey, where’d you see this guy?”

“By the scene of that drive-by a couple weeks ago,” Dick explained. “I recognize that big ring he’s wearing on his middle finger, but I have no idea where from. Can you help me out?”

“Yeah, that’s a Baglio family ring,” she told him. “I can’t get an ID on the guy, but you remember that Italian family we were having trouble with out here? Same family.”

“Damn, she was right then. Technically not gang related. Hey, does the mob count as a gang?”

“I mean, technically, but they aren’t really recognized as gangs when it comes to like popular recognition. Does that really matter, though?”

“It’s a matter of me being technically right, so yes.”

“You’re annoying, has anyone told you that lately?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Okay, good talk then.”

**********

Actually having a solid lead meant that he was able to close the case a lot sooner than he previously thought. Sure, he wasn’t able to actually bag whoever was in the back of the town car, but he was able to track down the shooters. At the press conference announcing the arrest of the shooters, he could see you right there in the front row with the other reporters. Dick caught your gaze for a second, and he almost missed the small nod of approval you gave him. For a moment, he thought he’d finally get on your good side again.

Then again, the peace could only last for so long. Every single case he was on, he could bet there was an article about it soon to follow. You’d appear at every crime scene, moving on from antagonizing Rodriguez to finding Dick and immediately bothering him. You’d drop your little cryptic hints when he was having trouble with cases, and somehow they’d actually be useful once he decoded them. The thing that probably bugged him the most was how you managed to get to his desk almost every day he was working on particularly difficult cases. You never let him get to the point of forgetting about cases, especially for the ones that involved people that stayed away from the Underground.

He could understand not wanting cases to go cold, but the fact that you were coming into the precinct every single day to bug him about developments was a bit much. Dick could handle a healthy amount of shit talking, but there was just something about your shit talking that got him on edge. Everything about you just got under his skin, and seeing you so often was really not helping that out. It got to the point where he started trying to avoid you just to keep his sanity.

“Grayson, (L/n) just got on the scene, you wanna run?” Rodriguez asked as soon as he spotted you talking to the officers at the tape. Dick quickly looked around, trying to find someplace he could disappear to. The only real option would be to go look like he was talking to the CSI team, but he didn’t want to disturb them actually doing their jobs. Before he could make a decision, you were already approaching.

“Grayson, stop running from me. You know I know where you work,” you called out to him.

“I should really get you banned from the precinct,” he shot back, a small frown on his face.

“You know you’d get bored without me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, whatcha got for me?”

“Why are you talking like you’re on this case? Technically I don’t have to tell you anything more than the other officers told you.”

“So what I’m hearing is go ahead and write whatever I want.”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Ooo, that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. I like it. So, what’s the news?”

“It’s a robbery, one injured, but we have a couple witnesses and it sounds like we have a pretty solid perp description. We’re just waiting for the witnesses to meet with the sketch artist and then we’re sending out the sketch to the papers and news outlets,” Dick told you. “There, satisfied?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Glad this one’s an easy one, I’d hate to have to write about you again,” you told him, turning around with a small smile on your face. “See you later, Grayson.”

“I sure hope not,” he decided to call after you. He could faintly hear your laugh, but the thing that caught his attention was the fact that you decided to flip him off as you walked away. Dick froze for a second, not sure if he should be highly amused or pissed off. He settled for somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards being pissed off.

When you put out your article, it was a simple, tell the details, share the perp sketch type of article. Dick was pleasantly surprised that there were no real call outs about him; as a matter of fact, his name was only mentioned once with the request that anyone who sees or has information about the suspect contact the tip-line immediately. He smiled at his laptop, taking the lack of criticism as praise. He was even willing to take the shit talking from Rodriguez, because as far as he was concerned, Rodriguez was just jealous that he never got this type of reaction from you.

**********

Dick didn’t realize he actually somewhat enjoyed your company - if he could call it that - until you stopped bothering him. You moved on from targeting him, bugging other detectives and officers about their open cases. He would hear complaints, as well as some pretty unsavory things, about you from the people you were bothering, and he was surprised about the amount of times he almost jumped to your defense. You were the biggest pain in his ass - constantly bugging him about his cases and making sure that he didn’t forget about your existence - so why did your disappearance bother him so much?

He got used to seeing you around the precinct (just not talking to him), but then he noticed when you stopped showing up. You didn’t show up to crime scenes, you didn’t show up to the precinct, you just weren’t there anymore, and that worried him. He tried asking around about you, seeing if maybe you were there and he just didn’t happen to run into you, but he met the same response: relief that you’d stopped coming around. It got to the point where he was checking the Bludhaven Gazette’s website to see if you’d written any new articles. Nothing.

Dick figured there’d be no way to really contact you; it wasn’t like he could just call your job and be like ‘hey, why isn’t this journalist bothering me anymore?’. He tried pushing you to the back of his mind, but he found himself still looking for you. It annoyed him - even when you weren’t there, you still managed to find a way to bug him. Before he knew it, a month had passed without seeing you. Then, as he was trying to schmooze up to a DA at the Policeman’s Ball, he could hear the telltale groan of another officer. You were there.

Sure enough, there you were in a black cocktail dress, a flute of champagne in hand, talking to someone he vaguely recognized from a different precinct. He wanted to excuse himself from his conversation just to see where the hell you’d been, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. He’d just have to find you later.

Then you slipped away yet again. Dick kept seeing glimpses of you here and there, but he could never catch up to you. It wasn’t until you went to the bar that Dick finally found his opening. You were talking to someone, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He slid up beside you at the bar, ordering a drink. He could see you straighten up at the sound of his voice, knowing he had your attention. As he took a drink of the whiskey in his cup, he turned to look at you.

You were a lot more done up than you normally were when you were working, but he couldn’t say he strongly preferred either. You looked amazing either way, just in different ways. “(L/n), funny running into you here.”

“Grayson,” you greeted, taking a sip of your own drink. “I can hardly believe this is an accident considering the way you’ve been watching me all night.”

That took him off guard, just enough to make him choke on his drink for a second. As soon as he regained his composure, he tried to figure out how to come back from his blunder. “Well, yeah. I thought I was seeing a ghost considering how you just disappeared.”

Not his best work, but you gave an amused smile so he would count it as a win. “Aw, you missed me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just weird not being bothered every second of my work day.” You tipped your glass back, the last of your drink passing your lips. He watched as you swallowed before putting the glass back on the counter, leaving some bills folded under it.

“Ah, I see. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Grayson.” You stood from your seat, giving him one last look before turning to disappear back into the crowd. Dick would have to work fast if he wanted to catch up to you before you slipped through his fingers yet again. He paid for his drink and left a tip as fast as he could, scanning through the crowd for you again. You were about to disappear down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he still had to make his way through the crowd as politely as possible while also avoiding conversation. Damn social conventions.

You walked down the hall, wanting to escape to the bathroom for a few minutes to compose yourself, when you felt a hand around your wrist. You whipped around, not knowing who would be daring enough in a room full of police, just to see the last person you wanted to. “Grayson, let go of me.”

“No,” his voice was firm before he realized it must’ve been a little jarring to just get grabbed. “Sorry, but no.”

“What do you want?”

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my job. I’m reporting on this damn thing,” you practically hissed, trying again to tug your wrist free from his hold. “Why do you care so much?”

“You’ve been MIA for a month and then suddenly you just appear here of all places? What gives?” He said, stepping towards you. You took a step back, trying to keep the distance, but your back just hit the wall behind you. You were forced to look up at him, the storm in his blue eyes surprising you. Why did it matter so much?

“I got sick, alright? My editor thought this would be an easy returner,” you snapped, trying to maintain your glare with him. It was a little difficult with how close he was to not get flustered, but you did what you needed to. “Why, did you miss me?”

You could tell that pissed him off by the smallest flare of his nose, but before you could take in the victory, he hit his arm on the wall above you. He kept it there, trapping you between his body and the wall. He wasn’t pressed against you just yet, but you wouldn’t be opposed to it if it was. “Why do you like pissing me off so much?”

He really didn’t see the opportunity he presented you with. You grabbed his tie the slightest bit, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, you used it to pull him down to your eye level. “Have you ever considered how fun it is?”

There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you, the faint noise of the party still going on just down the hall reminding you that you weren’t actually alone. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for just a moment, and then it was over. You don’t know who closed the distance first, but it didn’t really matter. The kiss was heated from the beginning, messy with tongue and teeth but you weren’t going to complain about it. Your hold on his tie tightened, pulling him closer to you. Dick’s arm moved from pressed against the wall above you, one hand fisting in your hair and the other wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him.

“God, I hate you,” Dick panted soon after he broke the kiss.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t?” You tried teasing, even though your voice was a lot more airy than you would care to admit.

“You annoy the hell out of me.”

“I’m a journalist that doesn’t give cops any wiggle room, of course I do.” He rolled his eyes, making you smile. You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you still missed me.”

“I guess I did. Do you maybe wanna get out of here?” You raised your brow, knowing he had to know how that sounded. It took him a second, but it finally clicked. “Not like that! Get some food or something. You probably aren’t annoying all the time.”

“You underestimate me,” you joked, making him smile. He has a pretty smile. “But I’ll take you up on that. Just make sure you behave yourself.”

“You’re the one who kissed me!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You freed yourself from his arms, making your way back down the hallway towards the exit. It took him a second, but you heard Dick following close behind. He pressed a hand to the small of your back, making sure you wouldn’t slip from his fingers again.

**********

Dress Inspiration

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #reader insert

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nanamikeento · 3 years

Text

‘tis the damn season - part ii

gif by @pcdrospascals

Pairing: Frankie Morales x female!reader

Summary: A year after getting back together with Frankie, you get a lovely surprise.

a/n: requested by anon!! i hope you like it!!!

warnings: pregnancy related topics and food mentions

word count: 1.6k

masterlist | part i

...

Frankie opens the door to his house and the smell of dinner immediately reaches his nose. He smiles as his daughter runs to his encounter, a Wonder Woman tiara hanging from her head.

“Daddy, come!” She takes his hand and starts pulling him towards the kitchen, “Mommy, he's here! Dad's home!”

You're finishing setting the table when Isabella barges her way to the kitchen, pulling Frankie by the hand.

“Can we have the cookies now?” She asks, lacing her fingers together to beg you.

“How about after dinner?” You suggest, as you walk to Frankie and give him a kiss on the lips. He frowns confused at you as Isabella whines and slumps her shoulders.

“But you said when daddy came home…”

“I know, honey, but if you eat them now, you're going to ruin your appetite,” you tell her as you kneel to be on her height, “Remember what I told you what we need nutrients for?”

“To grow big and strong!” She exclaims, trying to flex her muscles, “Like Wonder Woman!”

“Exactly!” You exclaim back and look at Frankie whose adoring eyes are watching you. But as soon as his eyes leave yours, he looks back at his surroundings, eyeing the kitchen with a frown on his face. The counter is filled with batches of your famous sugar cookies, some already decorated, some fresh out of the oven. Some are even missing from the trays.

“Christmas cookies?” He asks you, “In January?

You just sigh, snaking your arms through his shoulders and wrapping them around his neck, “I may have gone overboard, but I wanted to make tonight special.”

“Why?” He smiles at you as you press your body against his.

Shrugging, you let go of him, being as cryptic as you can, “You’ll see.”

The three of you sit down for dinner, Isabella tells about her day in school with excitement and Frankie indulges in the conversation, encouraging her to keep talking as they eat.

“Do you want to try the tomato today?” You ask her, stabbing a slice of tomato with your fork and showing it to her. The little girl pouts and shakes her head.

“I don’t like tomato,” she says matter of factly.

“I know, but… Just one slice?” You insist, “Look, daddy’s eating too!”

Isabella looks at Frankie who’s watching the scene unfold as he nods, showing her the tomatoes on his plate. She seems to think for a moment and then caves in, allowing you to slip a slice of tomato on her plate.

Before you came back to his life, Frankie couldn’t manage his time right. Isabella would stay with a babysitter after school and even then she wouldn’t eat a proper dinner, contenting herself with frozen food every night. When you moved in with them, you started cooking healthy meals and teaching her how to eat healthier. Frankie’s heart warms at the thought, both him and Bella were lost before you. You’re such a great mom to her, it makes him love you even more.

After dinner, Frankie helps you clear the table, putting the dirty plates in the sink and moving to wash them. Your hands come to hold his as soon as he turns the faucet on, making him look at you, confused.

“We have a surprise for you,” you say with a soft voice, turning the faucet off and gently pulling him back to the dinner table. On top of it, there's a package, wrapped up in Christmas wrapping paper.

“Is it my birthday?” He jokes, sitting back down on his seat.

“Well, consider this a late Christmas gift.” You sit beside him as Isabella runs to sit on your lap, sugar cookies already in hands, “Read the card first.”

Frankie chuckles as he takes the card from the top of the box and opens it to read it.

'Tis not the damn season anymore, but Santa has one more present for you.

He smiles, biting his lower lip as he tears the wrapping paper and opens the box without ceremony. Inside, he sees some of your cookies on top of the paper strips that fill the empty space on the box and under all that, there's something wrapped in tissue paper. Frankie takes the plastic stick and unwraps it.

Then, the smile drops from his face. He looks at you with wide eyes and finds you smiling expectantly at him.

“Does this mean–” He chokes out, feeling tears watering his eyes, “You're–” He shows you the pregnancy test with two blue lines on it.

“Yes,” you tell him before he can't finish, “Yes, Frankie, I'm pregnant.”

Frankie lets out a sob, letting the tears roll down his cheeks as he covers his face with his hands. You grab his shoulder with a hand, rubbing your thumb on the fabric of his shirt.

“Daddy?” Isabella's worried voice reaches both of your ears, “What's wrong?”

“Nothing–” He tries to speak, “I’m just–”

“Daddy is just too happy,” you explain, looking at her, “he can't contain himself.”

“Why?”

“Because, peanut,” Frankie chimes in leaning to press his lips on her forehead, “you're going to be a big sister!”

Isabella gasps, her little eyes widening, “What?! Really?!”

You laugh as Frankie gives you a kiss on the lips; you taste the salty tears on his lips, and he stands you evolve his girls in a tight hug.

“Really, honey,” he says, after letting you both go, and taking Bella in his arms, “aren’t you excited?”

“Yes, I am!” She nearly screams, making you both laugh.

Bed time seemed impossible tonight. The excitement and the sugar in Isabella’s system make her stay awake past her usual bedtime and, even when sleep finally hits her, she tries to fight it, playing with her toys until almost midnight. Thankfully, tomorrow is a Saturday and you hope she’ll sleep in for once.

With a sigh, you lay on the bed, beside Frankie after a long night of celebrating. You both stare at the ceiling in silence for a moment, smiles on your faces, hearts beating strongly. When you took the pregnancy test and found out it was positive, you were scared for a moment. You and Frankie have been engaged for three months only and you were afraid he’d freak out with the news. But his reaction made everything better.

And it’s not like it’s too soon to have a baby. You and Frankie might have been separated for ten years, but, deep down, you’ve always known you were meant to be together. You were meant to have a family.

“How do you feel?” He asks, taking your hand in his.

“Excited.” You smile, rolling your head to face him, “How do you feel? Knowing you’ll be a dad of two now?”

“Scared.” He admits with a laugh. You squeeze his hand, lacing your fingers together and bringing it to your lips.

“You’re gonna do great, Frankie. You raised Isabella on your own and she turned out great.” You assure him.

“Yeah, but it’s different now.” His voice is soft, “You’re here now.”

Your heart clutches as you remember what you’ve heard about Isabella’s mom. While you’ve never deeply talked about it with Frankie, you know he’s sensitive about the subject. So you try to change the subject.

“Do you think I’ll be a good mom?” you say quietly, in the dark.

Frankie rolls over to face you, “You’re already a good mom.” He reminds you, “You’re a great mom, what are you talking about?”

When you moved into Morales’ house, Isabella ended up becoming your daughter and you were surprisingly okay with it. You've loved that girl pretty much ever since you met her, she's caring and funny just like her dad. How could you not love a piece of Frankie?

“She told me she loved me today.” Your voice is even quieter than before as you roll to your side to look at him. His eyes widen and his smile grows wider, “When I found out I was pregnant, I started crying and she came to my rescue.” You smile at the memory, “She said, ‘Mommy, don't cry, I love you.’”

Frankie laughs softly and hooks an arm behind your lower back, pulling you against his chest. His lips touch your forehead as you bury your face on his neck, inhaling his scent deeply. You'll never get sick of it, of him. You couldn't be more grateful that you decided to stay.

“I'll never leave you, Francisco,” you tell him, all of a sudden. Your voice is muffled by the skin of his neck, but he feels the vibration of it on him. His heart leaps, beating fast with affection and adoration, “I'll never leave you or Bella or the baby, okay?”

Oh.

He wasn't thinking about it, he really wasn't. The way Isabella's mother abandoned her, leaving Frankie with a fresh new baby to care all by himself was awful. He felt lost, betrayed, heartbroken. But he healed. He raised Bella to be a wonderful kid and he did his best to make sure she knew she was loved. And then you came into his life again and everything became even better. He knows you, he knows you're not going to leave him again. That's how much he trusts you.

“Okay,” he eventually answers, pressing a kiss on your hair and rubbing your back gently, “I love you so much, mi vida.”

“I love you too, mi alma.”

Eventually, both of your breathings even out as you fall asleep in each other's arms, like it was always meant to be.

...

please, fill this form if you want to be tagged in any of my stuff!!

general taglist: @huliabitch @mistermiraclee @gooddaykate @forever-rogue @bestintheparsec @hiscyarika @haildoodles-writing @aerynwrites @xserenax-13 @hayley-the-comet @manuphantom @giselatropicana @wonderfulfluffer @justanotherblonde23 @hereforthesunrise @mitchi-c @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans @marvgrrl @nominbalnebula @theocatkov @opheliaelysia @buckysalefty @din-damn-djarin @the-wishmonger @spacenerdpascal @adikaofmandalore @goldafterglow @phoenixhalliwell @heythere80sbaby @petersunderoos96 @dinsbeskar @aerolanya @artsymaddie @rebelliouscat @lou-la-lou @notabotiswear @tatiadventures @aerolanya

Frankie taglist: @murdermewithbooks @kingpascals @jedi-mando @azem-thefourteenth @cyaredindjarin @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @mrsparknuts @autumnleaves1991-blog @astroboots @hugmekenobi @rosiefridayrogersunday @computeringturtle @amethystlily @emzd34 @thedevilwearsbeskar @littlebopper96 @sarahjkl82-blog @kennedywxlsh

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #triple frontier #myfic

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nnightskiess · 4 years

Text

r e q u e s t: Hi !! I love your writing ❤️ I want to know if it’s possible for you to write something with Quinn fabray x reader ? They are together in quarantine in New York with Rachel, Kurt and Santana. Also Reader and Santana are best friends. Can you add humor and fluff please ? Thanks ☺️

Quinn and Y/N were walking hand in hand through the streets of New York. They had planned a little getaway together to the big city. It was mainly Quinn’s idea, she wanted to propose to her high school sweetheart— Y/N. But most of their trip, and thus Quinn’s plan, fell apart due to the rapid spread of the Covid virus. Their tickets for Broadway had been refunded. The cute tearoom where Quinn had planned to propose to the girl— and where the two women had shared their first kiss during Glee club’s Nationals in New York— was closed down due to the virus. Most of the things Quinn had planned out for the proposal got refunded, except for the hotel. Quinn decided that she’d postpone her proposal to another time. She didn’t want to propose to Y/N like this. She deserved a proper proposal, like the one Quinn had planned out in her head for years. Quinn tried not to let it get her down but she found it hard to lie to Y/N about the frown on her face.

“I know it’s different.... but... I’m still glad we’re here.” Y/N brought their intertwined hands together and planted a kiss on Quinn’s knuckles. “New York always brings me back to high school.”

“Remember when we broke the bed during our pillow fight? And, oh God, how Tana fell off it when you smacked her across the face?” Y/N shook her head in amusement, “But the thing I will never forget is when we shared our first kiss in that adorable tearoom near the hotel.”

Quinn gave her a distant smile.

“And remember how panicked I was when Mr. Schuester walked by the window and I thought he had seen us out of the hotel room?”

Quinn hummed softly, rubbing her thumb across Y/N’s hand. She remembered every little detail about that morning, which made this all so much harder.

Y/N came to a halt and stood in front of Quinn, which caused the latter to bump into her.

“Oh, baby-”

“Why are you so quiet? I don’t like it.” Y/N seemed genuinely worried.

Quinn looked at the ground for a second and held her temple, trying to come up with a good enough lie.

“I-” She looked back up at her girlfriend and her expression immediately softened. Whenever Y/N was worried— particularly about Quinn — her eyebrows would furrow and she’d pout her lips ever so slightly.

Quinn sighed, “I’m just disappointed that we couldn’t visit it this time. I feel like a visit to New York is never complete without a high tea at our place.” Y/N smiled softly when Quinn grabbed her cheeks to comfort her.

“You know what else makes our trip complete?”

Y/N grinned like an idiot, immediately knowing what she was hinting at.

Quinn smiled,

“Let’s go pick up our stuff from the hotel first and then drive there.”

✫彡

“Wait, let me scare her.”

Quinn shook her head in amusement as her girlfriend plastered herself against the wall next to the front door of the apartment. Quinn knocked a few times before the door slid open.

“Oh my God! Quinn! It’s so good to see you!” Kurt’s voice rang through the hallway. He quickly hugged her before calling Santana.

“Quinn’s here!”

He turned back to the blond in front of him, “Are you alone?” Kurt was in disbelief, knowing very well that Quinn and her girlfriend were inseparable. Quinn quickly looked at Y/N through her peripheral and saw her nod her head.

“...I guess so-”

“Wait... you two are still together, right?” Concern filled Kurt’s voice, but before Quinn could reply, Santana appeared out of the bathroom.

“Ha! You bet they are.” She smirked at her friend, “Wait... where’s the fiancée?”

Quinn’s eyes widened and she immediately faked a long, awkward laughter. “Good one, San.”

Kurt looked between the two girls in confusion, and even Santana seemed lost.

He let out an awkward chuckle. “Am I missing something?”

Santana got the hint after Quinn shot her another look, “Oh- that’s just an inside joke of ours.”

“Y/N! Oh my God!” Someone squealed.

The three turned around and saw Rachel stand in the hallway, two large bags in her hand. She had seen Y/N hide behind the wall when she walked up to their frontdoor.

“Damn it, Berry.” Y/N groaned. “You ruined my surprise.”

Santana snorted, “Well, I knew you were somewhere. Quinn gets rashes when you’re not within a radius of 16 feet.” She opened her arms wide when Y/N revealed herself. “C’mere, I missed you.”

The two best friends shared a sweet hug while Rachel clumsily carried her bags inside.

“What’s up with that?” Kurt turned to her.

“Oh- well, now that our shows are postponed to God-knows-when... I thought I’d bring the stuff from my dressing room back home.”

“Why’d you bring this coffee machine home? We already have one.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like that one.”

“Rachel! We have no more countertop space... or available plugs!”

He gasped when he saw the brand, “These coffee pods are thirty dollars per package?!”

Santana rolled her eyes and walked Quinn and Y/N to the living room.

“So...while we let Bert and Ernie bicker... what’s up? No trouble in paradise?” She turned to the couple, hoping to cryptically find out why Quinn hadn’t proposed.

"I can’t believe you think we’d be able to part ways.” Y/N joked back and cuddled up against her girlfriend, who shook her head at Santana to let her know she’d tell her later.

“What do you girls want to drink? Or do you want some of Rachel’s exquisite coffee?” Kurt asked from the kitchen.

“Can I try a sip first?”

Quinn smiled at the childish antics of her girlfriend. Rachel gestured the girl to come over, which left the two ex-cheerios alone to talk.

Santana leaned in closer so that no one would hear,

“What happened?! Did you freak out at the last minute? Tell me you didn’t...”

Quinn sighed and rubbed her temples, “No, my whole proposal fell into pieces thanks to this freaking virus.”

“People are dying, Q.”

She sighed, “Gah, I know. It’s just- I’ve had this all planned out in my head for years. This was how it was supposed to go. And now everything is ruined.”

Santana gave her a sympathetic smile and squeezed her knee. “And there’s no alternative that you’d like?”

Quinn shrugged and shook her head softly.

“Well, if I may speak freely... we’re the only people who know Y/N in and out... which means that we also both know that she wouldn’t care if you went on one knee in a clown suit or if you wrote your big question in the sky with a plane...” Santana looked back to see if they were paying attention to their hushed conversation, but Y/N was sitting on the counter, her feed dangling while she took gentle sips of the expensive coffee. A small smile appeared on both girl’s faces.

“The only thing she cares for is that you are the one to ask her.”

Quinn’s eyes were filled with tears as she came to the realisation.

“Thanks, Santana.”

“Anytime.”

The two hugged until they heard Y/N run up to them.

“I want in!”

✫彡

A few hours had passed and all five of them were sprawled about the couch, their take-away food on the coffee table. Y/N’s head rested against Quinn’s chest while her legs were put on Santana’s lap. Quinn mindlessly played with the strands of Y/N’s hair.

It had become a tradition for them to watch ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ every time they visited their friends in New York.

“This scene breaks my heart every damn time.” Y/N mumbled and threw a napkin at the TV when Holly left the cat on the curb in the rain.

“She goes back for him later, though.” Kurt spoke.

“I don’t care. Damage is done.”

‘People do fall in love, people do belong to each other. Because that’s the only chance anybody has for real happiness.’ Paul, one of the characters spoke.

Quinn put her head against Y/N’s at hearing that. She was filled with so much joy at having this wonderful girl in her arms.

“I’ve been carrying this thing around for months,” Paul grabbed a wedding ring box out of his coat which caused Quinn’s mind to wander off. Even though she had seen this movie a dozen times, she was still surprised to be reminded of her ruined proposal.

Before she could make herself feel miserable about it again, Rachel’s phone rang. She quickly excused herself but motioned for them to not pause the movie.

Rachel walked to the living area after a few minutes, her expression tense and filled with worry.

“Guys...”

Kurt paused the movie as the girls turned to Rachel.

“We might have a tiny problem...Well... a big one, actually.”

Everyone got the memo that it was something serious and they sat up.

“One of the ensemble members has been tested positive for the virus... which means that everyone— crew and cast — needs to go into quarantine at home... and that includes everyone they have been in contact with... so that would mean that we have to stay inside for the next two weeks too...”

The bunch on the couch took a moment to take the news in until Santana shot up,

“I am not going to spend two weeks, non-stop, in here! I already go insane with too much of you as it is. I usually can deal with curtains as walls, your stubble in the sink or your god-awful annoying vocal exercises when I’m trying to sleep but that’s because I get home from work, eat and head straight to bed. But I will literally kill someone if I have to go through that all day long. I was supposed to see Brittany this weekend but hey, thanks a lot, Berry.”

“This is hardly Rachel’s fault. It’s the responsible and safe thing to do. You wouldn’t want Brittany to get it, right?”

Santana avoided eye-contact, but it was clear that she agreed with what Kurt said.

“Wow, I feel so unwanted right now.” Y/N mumbled out, slightly joking. “You get to spend your quarantine with us!”

Santana gave her a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, “I know, that’s the only good thing about this.”

Rachel saw the gloomy looks on everyone’s face. “They won’t tell us who it is for privacy reasons, but I usually don’t hang out with the ensemble anyway so I hope I’m safe. I’m so sorry, you guys.”

Kurt stood up with a sigh, “I guess I’ll go find the spare mattress then. You two can take my bed.” He was about to walk off but pointed a finger at Quinn and Y/N. “No sex... in my bed.”

Quinn pursed her lips, not that happy with Kurt’s rule.

“You were the leader of the celibacy club, you can last two weeks without sex. Besides, there are no walls so I will know when you break my rule.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you and Blaine before.” Santana rolled her eyes. “But great. We’ll have five, sexually frustrated people cooped up together in a tiny apartment with no walls for privacy, no natural light and no entertainment. Someone’s definitely going to get murdered... by me.” She added.

“My vote’s on Rachel...” Y/N mumbled out. Santana stuck out her hand behind her back for Y/N to high five.

“I’m just glad we decided to check out of our hotel this morning and bring our stuff to you guys... because no matter how much I love you all, I am not going to wear any of your spare panties.” Quinn stood up to go and help Kurt.

“You could just go commando.” Y/N shrugged, “I wouldn’t mind.”

Quinn sent her a teasing look and winked.

“I would say get a room but yeah, we don’t have any...so...” Rachel shrugged.

“I can’t believe we’re going to have to do this.” Santana sighed and walked off to her part of the apartment.

“Hey- but, look at it this way. We’ll have two weeks of non-stop karaoke, binge-watching and eating junk food. Doesn’t that sound great?” Rachel tried again but no one replied.

✫彡

One week done, one week to go.

For Quinn and Y/N, this week had consisted of a lot of cuddling and making out in bed, watching silly movies and cooking with whatever they could find in the pantry.

Santana had surprisingly been on her best behaviour, though they let her be whenever she had a ‘don’t-talk-to-me’ look on her face. Y/N suspected that Brittany had probably told her to be nice and to make the best out of it, but she also liked to think that it was because of her presence. She hadn’t been able to visit her best friend often now that they lived so far away. But it was like old times whenever they saw each other again. However, Quinn had caught herself feeling jealous that the two women had spent that much time together. But her jealousy washed away when she saw the best friends joke or laugh like they used to when they were still 16 year olds. It warmed her heart.

Kurt blended in perfectly and knew exactly when to give someone space or when to approach them. He and Quinn made sure there was food on the table and he had ordered a lot of, mostly useless, stuff online to try and keep everyone entertained. The twister game had been everyone’s favourite so far. And the effort he put into his bingo night was even too wholesome for Santana to make a comment about it, no matter how bad she wanted to after getting a rubber duck as present when she won.

Rachel did her best to help wherever she could and she was, surprisingly, a lot of fun to have around when things got boring. Though, yes, the daily vocal exercises got a bit out of hand when she woke them up belting high notes at 7.30. Santana was close to killing her had it not been for Quinn and Y/N holding her back. Santana wasn’t intimidating at all with her bed head, tangled up hair and red PJs and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh.

Quinn had been over the moon, so to say. She got to spend two whole weeks with the love of her life. Yes, they lived together but that was different. Now, there was no schedule or work to interrupt them or cloud their minds. It was just them, enjoying being in each other’s arms. For a lot of couples the lockdown and quarantine would probably be make or break, but Quinn hadn’t been worried about a negative outcome at all. When you’ve been together for that long, and been through hell and back, you know you will persevere together. The company of Kurt and Rachel was fun, and it was certainly good to have Santana around again but Quinn couldn’t help but wish it had just been Y/N and herself in quarantine. If that had been the case, she knew they wouldn’t just spend their days only cuddling in bed.

Y/N was the only one that was visibly annoyed and on edge. She would roll her eyes or sigh in annoyance if things went wrong or if someone said something she didn’t like. Quinn had caught her staring out of the window, to which Y/N explained that she hoped if she looked hard and long enough she might see the dragon that would save her. She wasn’t used to sit around and do nothing and was bored out of her mind.

Quinn and Y/N were lying in Kurt’s bed with their legs tangled together. Quinn held her girl close to her chest. She squeezed her and inhaled the scent of her freshly washed hair. The window was slightly open, causing a chill breeze to slightly move the curtains.

“Now I’m sure of it...” Y/N started, getting Quinn’s attention, “I’m never going to commit a felony.”

Quinn let out a breathy chuckle, “Were you questioning it before?”

“I can’t imagine being stuck like this for years.”

“Well, you still have access to the internet, great food, your friends...and your wonderful girlfriend.”

Y/N looked up at Quinn and grinned. She grabbed the girl’s cheek as she kissed her.

“Can’t believe I’m about to say this but I’m actually really thankful we got stuck in quarantine.”

Y/N subtly arched a questioning eyebrow.

“It made me realise two things— too much of Rachel Berry will be the end of me-” Y/N let out a breathy chuckle at that, “-and...”

Quinn stared into her girlfriend’s eyes, was she really going to do this now? Yes. Yes, she definitely was. This was the-

“Oh my God!” Kurt’s exciting squeal filled the apartment, startling both girls. They heard Santana shush him and it suddenly got very quiet. Too quiet...

Y/N tiptoed out of the bed in her PJ’s and fluffy socks and opened the curtain to see Santana and Kurt staring directly at her. She had clearly caught them with something, but with what? Quinn appeared behind Y/N and noticed the jacket that Santana was trying to hide behind their backs.

Kurt noticed she was doing a poor job at it and snatched the jacket out of Santana’s hands to hold it up to his face, admiring it like it was a newborn baby. “Oh my, it’s so pretty! Where did you buy this?”

Quinn quickly glanced at Y/N, who didn’t seem to notice what was happening. “Guys,” She groaned, “I thought something happened, you interrupted my peace.” She walked back, irritated, and closed the curtain in a swift motion.

“Why were you snooping in my stuff?!” Quinn hissed and plucked her jacket out of his hands.

“Um, excuse me? When where you going to tell me that you plan on proposing to her!?” Kurt whispered, enthusiasm clear in his voice.

Quinn didn’t reply and instead searched the pockets. “Where is it?”

“Here,” Santana gave her the jewellery box. “It fell out when Kurt was organising the coat rack.”

“Why haven’t you done it yet?”

“I had everything planned but the virus ruined it. It was suppose to happen the day we came here, but our favourite tearoom was shut down and so were all the other activities I had planned.” She sighed, “I was about to do it just now, in the heat of the moment, but then you two interrupted that. Whatever. I’m glad I didn’t. She deserved better than that.”

Santana crossed her arms, not happy with the fact that Quinn had apparently totally forgotten what the two of them had talked about a week prior.

“Damn, I wish you would’ve done it just now. That would mean the end of wicked witch Y/N.” Rachel joined their conversation. “Oh, so you can make fun of me but not the other way around? It was just a joke.” She added and raised her arms when she saw the looks Quinn and Santana were giving her.

“Okay, I know everyone’s feeling a bit irritated, but it’s just one more-”

The bell rang.

“Don’t tell me you bought us all matching boho outfits for your Mamma Mia night. I’m not wearing it.” Santana crossed her arms.

“I didn’t order anything?”

Y/N appeared again and opened the door.

“Thank you so much. Here, keep this.”

She closed it, walked over to the kitchen table and went to put everything down, completely ignoring the rest. She noticed the silence and turned around.

“Oh- Don’t worry, I ordered for everyone.”

Quinn eyed the table and recognised the familiar logo on the napkins.

“Baby-”

“I felt so bad that we couldn’t go to our place this time. So when I found out that they started doing deliveries this week, I knew I wanted to order their high tea menu. I got the one we usually get... to make you feel better...”

Quinn wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist from behind and put her chin on her shoulder. Y/N leaned into her touch.

“This is the sweetest thing ever. I love you.”

Y/N kissed Quinn’s forehead and sat down, immediately grabbing a brownie.

“You need to wife her up, fast.” Santana whispered into Quinn’s ear when she walked by.

And she would, when the moment was right.

✫彡

Kurt was watching a movie with Blaine through face time, Rachel was practicing some lines and Santana was face timing Brittany. Quinn and Y/N had promised to do the dishes, but Quinn ushered the girl to take a nap on the couch when she saw how tired her girl looked.

Quinn took quick glances towards the living room every few seconds and saw that Y/N had finally fallen asleep on the couch. With a faint smile on her face, she grabbed a blanket and tucked Y/N in. One of Rachel’s dvd’s, The Sound of Music, was still playing in the background. She slowly took the remote out of Y/N’s hands and turned it off.

“You’re the best and most precious thing in my life. I love you.” She bent down and caressed her cheek.

She widened her eyes when an idea suddenly struck her mind.

✫彡

“What do we sing?”

“No... no singing proposal. Y/N would hate that.”

“I loved it.” Kurt shrugged.

“So, then what’s the plan?”

“Listen up...”

✫彡

Their quarantine was over and no one had gotten sick. No one from Rachel’s crew or cast had gotten it either. Brittany and Blaine came over as soon as they could. They were over the moon to hear about Quinn wanting to propose and agreed to help.

“Love, what are you doing?”

Y/N sat on her suitcase, desperately trying to get it closed.

“I thought I had gained weight, not my clothes.” She grunted, “If we want to get home before the dark we should drive off by-”

“Actually... I had something planned before we go home.”

“Oh?”

“Is it okay if we leave as soon as you can? Bring a jacket, I don’t want you to get cold.”

Quinn left Y/N to get ready and anxiously walked into the kitchen where the rest were whispering words of encouragement to her. Quinn knew how much they had loved each other for the past years, but something inside her was still very insecure if Y/N would say yes to her question... to her. What would she do with herself if Y/N didn’t accept her ring?

“She’s going to love it.” Santana hugged her tight but quickly let go when Y/N opened the curtain.

“Why are you all looking at me?”

“Because you look lovely.” Quinn grabbed her hand. They all sent her thumbs up as she took one last glance over her shoulder.

✫彡

Y/N was eating a pretzel that Quinn had bought her in the park. The two were walking in a comfortable silence. Quinn glanced to the girl beside her, hoping that Y/N would catch on on what was happening soon.

They had walked almost the very same route that they walked on that morning in New York many, many years ago. Their end stop would be at the edge of the park, where Santana and Brittany were now probably busy setting their high tea up.

“Why are pretzels so much better in New York?”

“Eh, I don’t know. I’m not really a pretzel girl.”

The park was normally crowded with locals and tourists, but they had barely seen a handful of people so far.

“Wasn’t this where we sat with the kids from Glee?”

Quinn smiled softly.

Finally.

“Yeah, it is, actually.”

“Oh- Well, everything from that trip is very blurry in my mind, except for our first kiss, of course. I can even still tell you the colour of your coat.”

Quinn gave her a playful smile and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Which was?”

“Red.” She booped her nose with the end of her pretzel, earning a giggle from Quinn.

She grinned softly, “Remember that snow globe I bought for you? With New York’s skyline?”

Y/N gasped, “I loved that thing.”

The two laughed, remembering that Y/N had dropped it when they rushed to cross the street only half an hour after buying it.

“Then you bought me a couple others throughout the years but none of them have ever been able to have the same value to me. Sorry not sorry.”

Quinn smiled to herself, hoping she was about to change that in a few minutes. She saw Santana and Brittany sitting on the grass in the distance and guided Y/N to the two. They left without saying a word, but not before giving the two enthusiastic but knowing smiles. Santana wiggled her eyebrows but Britt pulled her away.

“I am so confused right now.” Y/N hesitantly sat down on the blanket. “Why were they here?”

“I asked them to help me set up this little picnic so it could be a surprise. I know you ordered the high tea last week but I wanted to end our trip off like this, with just us. Also, we’ve spent the last two weeks in NYC without even a day outside. I didn’t want to leave before we went somewhere. I hope you like it.”

“Like it? I can never get enough of their cheesecake bites.”

Quinn smiled nervously, trying to hide how stressed she felt. She poured the juice in their glasses and fed Y/N a bite of a scone with butter and peach marmalade.

“How does that taste?”

Y/N threw her head back and groaned. “I’m going to miss their food.”

Quinn barely replied, too focused on how she was going to bring it up. Backing out now felt like a good way to calm her nerves but she knew she shouldn’t. Not only because Santana would kill her if she did, but also because there would never be a more perfect moment than now.

“Quinn?”

“Uh-Yeah, love?”

“What is this?” Y/N repeated.

Quinn’s eyes widened when she saw the wrapped up package Y/N had grabbed out of the basket.

“Oh- I... that...-” She sighed, “Screw it.” She went to sit on her knees and ushered Y/N to open it.

“For me?”

Quinn nodded, a big smile on her face.

“Quinnie... you-”

“Open it, my love.”

Y/N removed the wrapping paper and gasped when she saw what it was. It was a handmade snow globe, made in a mason jar. The New York skyline was glued to the bottom of it with a laminated picture of the two of them that they took during their first visit to New York. (Thank God Kurt was into a crafty phase during the second week of quarantine).

“I’m not the best at crafts but I just thought-”

“I love it.” Y/N beamed from ear to ear and her smile only widened when the snow inside of it fell onto the skyline.

“This is the most thoughtful gift someone has ever given me.”

“I’m glad you love it.” Quinn grabbed Y/N’s hand and softly moved it around so that the bottom of the snow globe was now facing up. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows until she realised what was scribbled down onto a piece of paper at the bottom. Quinn put the snow globe down and grabbed both of Y/N’s hands in her own, brushing her thumbs against the girl’s knuckles.

“I must admit that I thought what I’m about to say a million times over for the past days and I imagined what I would say to you in this moment for years—but truth be told, I kind of forgot all of that because of the nerves,” Quinn let out a chuckle, “To be honest, I have always known that you were the only girl I wanted to be with in this life. I don’t know what it was, but we’ve just had this instant gravitation towards each other. I know I wasn’t always the kindest to you in the beginning yet you still helped me through everything. The pregnancy, the accident... Now I can say all this cheesy shit about how you and I bring the best out of each other and how much love we have for one another but I think I don’t need to say that. We both know how much our relationship means to us. New York has always been a special place to me since it reminds me of why and how we fell in love. Which is why I wanted to do this here. This is were it all began. Now, I had everything planned months ago but... the situation changed and well... yeah. I had to adjust. At first, I wanted to postpone it all. Until I realised that I couldn’t wait any longer. Y/N, you are my everything. I want to be by your side until eternity. I want to be your person for as long as I can. I want to love and care for you for as long as you want me to.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“So I guess...what I’m trying to say here is...” She grabbed the box out of her pocket, opened it and presented it to Y/N. “Would you like to marry me?”

Y/N looked at the box in shock, she hadn’t made eye contact with Quinn ever since she had presented her with the ring in her hand.

The silence lasted only for a few seconds but it felt like minutes to Quinn, who slowly lowered her hands.

Y/N suddenly let out a sob, then another. She jumped onto Quinn and wrapped her arms around her neck.

“Yes.” She said through her sobs. Quinn let out a gasp of relief and squeezed the girl in her arms, letting her own tears fall freely now.

“Oh-” Y/N groaned and let go of her embrace. “I stepped into the scones...” She pouted and looked at her marmalade stained knee. Quinn laughed through her tears, realising this was exactly why she had asked this girl to marry her.

Y/N forgot it immediately the moment she locked eyes with her fiancée. She held her tight and kissed her like she never had before.

They let go like two love-sick puppies when they heard all of their friends approach. The newly engaged couple was radiating.

“I love you, so much.”

#quinn fabray #quinn fabray one shot #quinn fabray imagine #quinn fabray imagines #quinn fabray x you #glee imagine #glee imagines #glee preferences #glee x reader #santana lopez imagine #santana lopez imagines #santana lopez x reader #santana lopez one shot #kurt hummel imagine #kurt hummel imagines #kurt hummel x reader #rachel berry imagine #rachel berry imagines #rachel berry x reader

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures Past pt9 / On AO3

after being punished for their behaviour in Yunping City, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen have a chat about friendship and forgiveness

warning for mentions of corporal punishment

Nie Huaisang failed to contain a whine as another blow from the discipline rulers hit him. When no more followed, and Lan Qiren finally announced that he and Lan Xichen could stand again, Nie Huaisang instead collapsed to the ground, exhausted by the beating.

"I said stand up," Lan Qiren ordered. "I went easy on you this time. Don't expect such leniency again."

Nie Huaisang almost laughed, only for it to come out as a choked sob. He was no stranger to being punished, but at home it was done differently. To think he used to call his brother's methods cruel… but he would gladly have taken Nie Mingjue's extra training over that awful, pointless beating he'd just received.

He was half convinced he would just expire there, in the dust of that courtyard of the Lan discipline hall, when strong, slender hands grabbed him by the armpits and helped him up. Lan Xichen, who barely had a hair out of place in spite of enduring the same punishment, weakly smiled at Nie Huaisang and silently encouraged him to lean on him until he felt better.

Nie Huaisang wondered if he hated Lan Xichen for having a cultivation so great that this beating hadn't impacted him, or pitied him for apparently being used to such treatment and thus enduring it so well.

"Let this be a reminder to follow rules and respect your elders," Lan Qiren said, glaring at both boys. "Now go, I've seen enough of you."

Lan Xichen, ever respectful, bowed before his uncle and thanked him for taking time to educate them. Nie Huaisang had no choice but to bow as well, though he refused to be thanking anyone for what he had just endured and firmly pinched his lips in pointless rebellion.

Especially pointless when he knew that this was but one half of the punishment : Lan Qiren had also assigned both of them to write an essay, and to copy a few times certain rules relevant to their behaviour in Yunping City. And to make it worse, Nie Huaisang wouldn't even be able to ask Su She to help him: his friend had gotten in trouble during his absence, and was punished as well.

At least, Yunping City had been a success of sorts. Meng Yao was probably never going to join Lanling Jin now, which was good, and Nie Huaisang hadn't needed to kill anyone the way his future self had half implied he should do, which was great. It might be worth a little pain, Nie Huaisang thought as Lan Xichen slowly led him out of the discipline halls.

After having walked in silence a little bit, Lan Xichen stopped. Nie Huaisang, expecting to be sent away to his cabin, or scolded further for dragging Lan Xichen in his mischief, braced himself for yet more unpleasantness.

"Would you like to come home with me?" Lan Xichen offered instead. "I can make you a certain tea I have which will help with the pain, and we can work on our punishments together."

"You're not going to poison me, are you?" Nie Huaisang asked. Lan Xichen gave him a puzzled look so he shrugged. A mistake, with the state of his back. "It's just that you wouldn't have been punished if I didn't go out."

"And you wouldn't have been punished if I hadn't helped you go out," Lan Xichen replied. "So I would say we're even. Besides, Wangji will be home and I'd rather not deal with him right now. He gets very judgmental about people breaking rules, but he won't say anything if we have a guest."

The idea of spending yet more time with Lan Xichen was an unappealing one when Nie Huaisang still remembered that bad taste joke about Su She. Normally, he wouldn't have considered it at all, his future self be damned. Now though, with the promise of something to deal with the pain…

Principles were well and nice, but Nie Huaisang decided he didn't have the sort of personality needed to suffer heroically for his beliefs.

He accepted the invitation.

Just as Lan Xichen had said, Lan Wangji was in the house when they arrived. He threw his brother a most betrayed look, as if Lan Xichen had personally murdered someone rather than just been a little rude to an awful man, but when he noticed Nie Huaisang he kept to himself whatever remarks he might have had and just left them alone. What a stuffy boy, really. If it had been Nie Huaisang whose older brother had misbehaved, he would have found the whole thing hilarious and teased Nie Mingjue to hell and back. Su She was clearly right whenever he complained about Lan Wangji being the most bland and boring person in the world.

Once Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang were alone, Lan Xichen set out to prepare the tea he had promised, while inviting Nie Huaisang to sit down. Sitting wasn't particularly comfortable right then, but Nie Huaisang still obeyed. He quickly noticed that Lan Xichen was preparing a different blend of tea for himself, and asked about that when Lan Xichen handed him a warm glass.

“The pain isn’t so bad for me,” Lan Xichen explained. “It would go against the spirit of the punishment if I took something, especially when shufu didn’t tell me I could. But you are our guest, and I know you’re unused to such methods, so it would be cruel to let you suffer.”

Nie Huaisang wrinkled his nose, both because he could tell he had just been called weak in a very polite manner, and because his tea had a rather strong smell. The taste wasn’t so bad, though, and after a few sips he felt his body start to relax, the pain still present but more dull and no longer the only thing on his mind.

“I’ll give you some of that tea,” Lan Xichen said before Nie Huaisang could even comment on the effect. “So you can have some more before sleep, and tomorrow morning as well, or else classes promise to be difficult to put up with for you.”

“It’s not like they’re easy even at a normal time,” Nie Huaisang retorted.

“Then there’s no reason to make it even worse, is there?”

Nie Huaisang said nothing, watching Lan Xichen with a slight pout. It seemed to him that Lan Xichen was in awfully good spirits for someone who had just taken such a beating. In fact, Lan Xichen had seemed in a very good mood since Yunping City, or at least since after that encounter with Meng Yao, hadn’t he?

From talking with his future self, Nie Huaisang knew that both Meng Yao and Lan Xichen would have been involved in Nie Mingjue’s death. He hadn’t really given it much thought yet, but what if that hadn’t been their only link? Meng Yao had a pleasant personality and was as good looking as all of Jin Guangshan’s trail of bastards, so with the way Lan Xichen had so vehemently taken his defence that day… Nie Huaisang thought he might ask his future self about that. Then, remembering he didn’t much like the man, and that his future self was a little too fond of mysteries, he realised he’d have to figure this out on his own if he ever wanted to know.

He wasn’t sure he did want to know, but between trying to find out if Lan Xichen had developed an instant crush or doing the essay Lan Qiren had demanded…

“So, Lan gongzi, how come you’re so nice today? I mean, you’re always nice of course, but you’re in a very good mood considering…”

Nie Huaisang made a vague gesture. When the movement made him wince, he took a few more sips of tea.

“A few things that were worrying me have cleared up,” Lan Xichen explained. “Although if you really want to know why I offered you this tea, and to help with your essay…”

“I am quite curious about that, yes.”

“I suppose I feel I owe it to you,” Lan Xichen said, lowering his eyes. “I was… I realise I was unpleasant to you when we were in Yunping City. First I made things difficult for you when we met while visiting the town, and then my tasteless attempt at joking about your friendship with Su She… I should have behaved better than this.”

Without thinking, Nie Huaisang nodded. He’d been upset about the way Lan Xichen behaved toward Su She even before, but that joke had just been too much. And then the accusation of him having a crush… well, that had just been mean. Mostly because it made Nie Huaisang feel awkward about hanging out with his friend again, when already his future self’s cryptic mention had made things weird.

He didn’t want to be thinking of Su She like that, because he knew from their chats that Su She only liked girls, whereas Nie Huaisang…

But it didn’t matter what Nie Huaisang liked anyway. Not unless his brother hurried up and got married… but since his future self appeared to be a sect leader, Nie Mingjue probably hadn’t gotten around to do that, meaning Nie Huaisang would be left with the duty of continuing the family line.

So it didn’t matter if he liked Su She in any way except as a friend, because that was all they would ever be, which was fine. Su She was a good friend to have.

But speaking of Su She...

“Lan gongzi, I have a question for you,” Nie Huaisang said.

Lan Xichen emptied his glass of tea and smiled politely.

“I’m listening.”

“See, I thought I had you figured out,” Nie Huaisang explained, tapping his fingers against the side of his own glass. “I thought in the end, you were just another Lan prick full of himself and convinced that only people born in a great sect, or at least in a sect at all, are actually people. With the way you are about Su She, I really thought you were that sort of person.”

Lan Xichen winced at being called a prick, but didn’t actually protest, which Nie Huaisang took as an admission of guilt.

“But you weren’t like that with that Meng Yao and his mother,” Nie Huaisang continued, putting down his glass with an impatient gesture. “You were nice to them. More than Huang zongzhu for sure! And you said that stuff about treating people by their actions not their origins, and you sounded like you meant it, and about the son of a courtesan too! So now, I feel I don’t understand you at all, and I’ve got to ask. Why do you dislike Su She that much?”

Hearing Nie Huaisang’s question, Lan Xichen was silent for a long while, observing the other boy as if somehow, the answer to his dislike of Su She lay within Nie Huaisang.

“Why do you like him so much?” he said at last.

“I asked first!”

Lan Xichen sighed. “And I’m not sure what to answer. I had formed a certain opinion of Su She, but perhaps… I could be wrong. So please help me understand how you see Su She, so that I might revise my judgment.”

“He’s fun, that’s really the main thing,” Nie Huaisang said. “And he tries hard. He’s always trying so hard. Half the time we hang out, he’ll end up practising in some way, because he wants so badly to catch up to the other disciples. And he’s quite skilled, too. I think his teachers don’t like him because he can have a bad temper, but he’s real clever, and real good at music too. It’s really annoying that people treat him badly. Like that thing with Jin Zixun while we were in Yunping City? I’m so sure it wasn’t Su She’s fault, but because it’s him, everyone thinks he’s done something wrong and they punished him! It’s unfair!”

Impassioned by this defence of his friend, Nie Huaisang half stood up from his seat, only for the pain in his back to flare up again at the sudden movement, forcing him to sit down again. Lan Xichen watched him through all of it, his face turned into an expressionless mask.

“Nie gongzi has a very strong sense of justice, I see.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged, and only half regretted it.

“Not really. If we weren’t friends, maybe I wouldn’t care,” he admitted. “But he is my friend, so it bothers me, and I don’t know how to help… but you could, and yet you don’t. He’s a disciple of your own sect, but you treat him with less regard than you do a complete stranger you met at a market. If you took his defence, then everyone else would have to stop bothering him!”

“I suppose,” Lan Xichen said with obvious reluctance. “It is wrong he’s not given a fair chance.”

“It is! Lan gongzi, please, please help Su-xiong,” Nie Huaisang begged. “I’ll really owe you, and… and I’m sure you’d get along with him if you just gave him a chance! And he’s really a good element to have in your sect, and… ah, he even has a beautiful handwriting, you know!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, hit by a sudden realisation. “So maybe he could help with that thing you’re doing of copying books!”

Lan Xichen, already a little upset at their topic of conversation, went very pale at that new suggestion.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you do,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Every time I see you, you’re copying something. And not just you, I’ve seen other Lan disciples do it in the library too, and some of the juniors when they’re being punished. But mostly only the ones that are teachers’ pets. Well, that’s what Su She said when I asked about it. But he could help! He’s really good at writing, and he knows the rules well, and…”

“We’ll see,” Lan Xichen dryly cut him. “Although I’d appreciate if in the future, you did not mention anything about those books being copied. It is private sect business, and Gusu Lan does not wish for it to be known.”

“But you always do it, even in front of me.”

“I didn’t expect Nie gongzi to pay attention to what I was doing. My mistake, of course.”

Meaning he thought Nie Huaisang was too stupid to notice. Of course Nie Huaisang had already guessed it was something of the sort, that Lan Xichen really had such a low opinion of him, but it still annoyed him.

“If I keep that to myself, will you be nicer to Su-xiong from now on?”

“Blackmail is forbidden,” Lan Xichen replied. “By my sect, and by yours as well, I believe. As for Su She… I’ll see what I can do. But first, Nie gongzi, I have another question for you.”

Lan Xichen’s tone sounded odd, too polite somehow, but Nie Huaisang still nodded.

“Thank you. It is a question of… philosophical nature, I suppose, and perhaps only distantly linked to our conversation, but here it is. Do you think that everyone deserves a second chance?”

It was a very weird question, but also a very earnest one, Nie Huaisang felt. Certainly Lan Xichen had a very intense expression on his face. Why he would have asked this as they were talking about Su She, who hadn’t done anything wrong except for having an occasionally difficult personality, Nie Huaisang couldn’t say. Unless there had been some incident in the past that Su She hadn’t mentioned, or worse where he hadn’t realised he’d offended Lan Xichen? It seemed unlikely but not impossible, so Nie Huaisang gave the question due consideration before answering.

“Yes, I think people deserve second chances. Sometimes, they just don’t know that they’re doing something wrong. But I also think they have to know they’re getting a second chance.”

“So they know they won’t get another one?” Lan Xichen asked, his eyes almost shining now, as if he were the one who’d done wrong in the past. But then why would he be angry at Su She? And why wouldn’t Su She have mentioned it, when he never hesitated to complain about others’ faults?

Again, Nie Huaisang took a moment to think about it before shaking his head.

“A bit, but mostly not. It’s just that like I said, people don’t always know they’ve done something wrong,” he explained. “So what da-ge says you must do if someone acts in a bad manner is, you’ve got to let them know, and then they can actually understand what they’re doing wrong, and do better later. Oh! I guess that’s what I’m doing!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, clapping his hands. Lan Xichen threw him a puzzled look, to which he answered with a smile. “Lan gongzi, that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m giving you a second chance!”

Lan Xichen paled so much so that it almost made his robes look colourful in contrast. Nie Huaisang’s enthusiasm fell quickly. He wondered if Lan Xichen was going to have another moment of complete panic, the way he’d done in Yunping City. Nie Huaisang braced himself to take the other boy’s hand again and hold it until he got over whatever was happening to him, since that had seemed to help the other time.

Before he could move, Lan Xichen took one big gasping breath, and forced a smile.

“I’m… I’m thankful for Nie gongzi’s… for your generosity,” he said in a trembling voice, as if he couldn’t breathe quite right. “I… I will try to be worthy of it.”

“So you’re going to help Su-xiong?”

Lan Xichen flushed and nodded shortly.

“Yes, if it matters so much to you. But in exchange, might I… would you let me make a request?”

“You can always ask,” Nie Huaisang replied, which even he knew was a less than polite answer, but Lan Xichen appeared so shaken still that he didn’t remark on it.

“Would you let me give you music lessons?”

“What? Why… You’ve suggested it before, and I’ve told you, my grades in your uncle’s classes are…”

“I wouldn’t make those lessons depend on the results of those lectures you attend,” Lan Xichen said a little too quickly. “I have told you before, I would like us to get along, since we both care about Mingjue, and who knows, it might be useful in the future if you know how to…” He paused, and took another deep, shaky breath. “I think it would be nice to spend time together like this. I know you haven’t particularly enjoyed my company so far, but…”

“I like when you do my homework,” Nie Huaisang generously protested. It really was the only pleasant part of their time together thus far, and he'd been pretty rude already so he had to say something nice. “And I know you’re busy, with the copying that I won’t talk about anymore, and you’re helping with teaching the little kids, and… and I know you don’t like me much, and you’re going to like me even less if I fail to learn anything from you.”

“If you don’t like it, we will stop,” Lan Xichen promised. “But I’d still like to try.”

Nie Huaisang huffed, unsure what to say.

Of course he had to spend more time with Lan Xichen. His future self had been so angry to hear he wasn’t making progress in getting Lan Xichen’s trust, and Nie Huaisang would like not to be shouted at again. At the same time, he was still quite angry at Lan Xichen about his treatment of Su She, and wouldn’t believe in the older boy’s promises until he saw them actually be put into action.

With that said, though, the perspective of learning music was… well, it certainly had appeal. Anything that wasn’t cultivation or martial arts had appeal. If he could learn the guqin, even just a little… it was what proper gentlemen did, right? They painted, and played music, and did calligraphy, and…

And maybe now that Nie Mingjue was probably not going to die after all, perhaps Nie Huaisang could start dreaming again about a perfect future where he’d do nothing all day but be accomplished in ways that mattered to him as the elegant and useless second master of Qinghe Nie.

“Fine. If Lan gongzi really wants, I’m willing to try,” Nie Huaisang said, making it sound as if he were doing Lan Xichen a huge favour.

Maybe he was, because Lan Xichen gave him a real smile upon hearing that answer.

“Thank you, Nie gongzi. I appreciate you giving me this second chance.”

Nie Huaisang laughed awkwardly. He’d mostly said that as a joke, but apparently Lan Xichen had taken this second chance thing quite seriously. He really was such a weird person at times. Weird but… but perhaps not entirely awful. If he really taught Nie Huaisang music, if he really kept his word and started taking Su She’s side more…

Nie Huaisang was too lazy to hold a grudge, especially if the other person made real efforts to change.

“Now,” Lan Xichen said, “let’s get started on those essays for my uncle, since we’re here. I think this might be quite fun, if we apply ourselves well.”

Nie Huaisang groaned, and dramatically let himself fall over the table.

He took it back. All Lans were awful, and they were out to get him and torture him to death, and he hated every single one of them.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #hey look it's some small progress in the xisang part of this fic!#now plz get ready for at least two chapters where they don't talk to each other lol

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

pirate king (13) || atz

“Master!” You burst into the sickbay, eyes brimming over with tears as you desperately search for that head of green hair that has grown so familiar to you. You ignore the stunned faces of some of the pirates who are getting their wounds treating, the concerned glances that some give you, only to see Seonghwa standing there with a basket of dirty cloths in his arms and a startled look on his face at the commotion.

Then he sees the tears tracks winding down your face and his expression melts into one of horrified concern, he puts the basket down and moves to reach for you.

You simply throw yourself into his arms without waiting for him and sob into his chest, openly weeping in full view of all the pirates in the sickbay. The cook staggers back a couple of steps from the force of your embrace, but manages to upright himself before the two of you go bowling over onto the floor.

Seonghwa is warm. He always has been. Gentle, kind, compassionate and tender-hearted. And you’ve never been so grateful for a man like him. He lets you cry, hands softly winding in your hair, a little confused as to why it’s suddenly several inches shorter and out of its usual braid. You hear Jongho’s heavy footsteps behind you on the wooden floor, and his face must say something because Seonghwa’s body stiffens, his embrace around you tightening just a little as he folds you into his arms.

“What did you do, Jongho?”

Seonghwa’s voice is deliberately neutral. He trusts Jongho, of course. But the last person you were with was indeed the young battlemaster and he knows Jongho is terribly awkward with new people. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jongho had said something silly on accident and ended up causing you to get upset.

But Jongho merely exhales uncomfortably, looking down at his boots. “We should talk about this in private.” His voice holds no room for argument.

Seonghwa frowns a little at this apparent need for privacy, long fingers gently stroking through your hair as your warm tears soak into his shirt sleeves. “Jihyun, help me call San and tell him to come to his room immediately.”

A tall pirate nods, rising to his feet. “Of course, Seonghwa-sunbae.” He moves off quickly, disappearing from sight. Seonghwa then puts an arm around your shoulders, sweetly ushering you into the backroom where you’ve been sleeping for the past couple of weeks and sits you down on San’s bed, wiping the tears from your eyes with a tender hand. Jongho follows behind, shutting the door firmly behind you.

You feel weak, boneless, as the words run through your mind again and again on repeat.

“You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.”

You reach out a hand. Seonghwa looks puzzled for a moment, but you think the experience must have at least made you and Jongho closer somehow, because he understands immediately and clasps your hands gently, almost timidly in his, as if afraid that you might break if he uses too much force.

Jongho probably could crush a man’s skull with his bare hands, but he cradles your hand like it’s a newborn baby chick.

“Just before you get the wrong idea, hyung, I didn’t do anything.” The young battlemaster says firmly, but there is guilt lingering in his voice. You know it’s not because he did anything to you, but because he regrets making you visit the fortune teller in the first place.

Seonghwa frowns in confusion as he moves to light the lamp in the room. “Then why is s-” He coughs lightly as the smoke from the lamp gets into his eyes and nose. “Why is he so upset, Jongho?”

You curl up on San’s bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that can stop you from falling apart.

The maknae opens his mouth to explain, but then San enters the room.

His face is smoothed over, carefully blank, but you can feel the pulse of his energy spiking erratically, feeling more like a burning stove rather than a warm radiance. Jongho and Seonghwa must both feel it as well, because they both stiffen minutely.

“Hyung, we need to talk-” Jongho begins to say, but San ignores him and makes a beeline straight for you, sitting next to you on the bed and patting his lap.

“Here.”

You don’t decline the invitation, laying your head in his lap and curling up beneath the sheets like you do every time you get nightmares. You press your nose against his side, and immediately the smell of him fills your lungs. Green tea, honey, and floral notes of ylang ylang and lavender mixed with the odd herb he’s been experimenting with combine to create a scent that is uniquely his, one that never fails to calm you down even in the fiercest of storms.

His hand comes to rest in your hair, carding through the strands gently.

Only when he’s sure that you’re no longer in hysterics and on the verge of a panic attack does he turn to Jongho with sharp piercing eyes.

“So, would you mind explaining to me why my apprentice is in this state?”

You feel bad for Jongho, having to endure all this questioning by himself when he technically was only trying to help you and encourage you, but San shushes you the second you open your mouth.

“I want to hear this from him.” His eyes don’t leave the young battlemaster.

“Well, do you guys remember the first time I came to Tortuga, I visited a fortune teller?” Jongho asks slowly. His hyungs exchange looks, and then Seonghwa nods hesitantly.

“Why?”

“I brought him to visit the fortune teller.” Jongho mutters quietly, his voice small. You realise that even though Jongho may be the strongest, best fighter on board, he still submits himself to the authority of his older brothers. “And the fortune teller said some things…”

San’s eyes narrow as his fingers continue to brush through your hair. Seonghwa seats himself at San’s work table to listen to what Jongho has to say.

“She something about a jar of clay… and some secret that would ruin our trust in her...” Jongho mutters, shaking his head.

San’s fingers freeze in your hair.

“I mean… The secret that stowaway’s actually a woman isn’t quite secret, am I right?”

A terrified squeak leaves your mouth, momentarily pulling you out of your daze. You jerk up, staring at Jongho with wide eyes and your mouth hanging open in horror. Seonghwa shrugs in response to the maknae’s words.

“I did find out rather recently, so I suppose it’s no longer secret within us three then.”

You gulp. San stiffens slightly, but then you can feel his muscles relaxing next to you. “How did you find out, hyung?”

“When she hugged me earlier.” Seonghwa replies easily, much to your shock. Then he pauses, glancing at you hesitantly. “I could feel her… ah, chest through her clothes. I apologise deeply for any inappropriate actions I might have done under the impression you were a man.”

Your cheeks catch aflame as you stare at the cook in a mixture of both horror and embarrassment, your mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. Jongho’s nose scrunches up at his words.

“That’s gross, hyung.”

Seonghwa sputters incoherently at his dongsaeng’s words, looking like a rapidly reddening tomato. “Well, excuse me for not knowing she was a woman! How about you say how you figured it out?”

Jongho halts in all action immediately, jaw working furiously. His own cheeks have started turning apple red, and he looks away to the side, mumbling under his breath.

“When the fortune teller grabbed her shirt, I saw-”

You bury your face in a pillow to hide your embarrassment and scream. At this point, you don’t know what you are. Confused, shocked, mortified, everything. All you know you want to do is to crawl into a hole in the ground and slowly rot away, but then you then you remember you’re at sea in a ship and there is no hole in the ground for you to die in.

To your surprise, however, Jongho and Seonghwa don’t seem to be very affected by the fact that you are a woman. Jongho continues rambling on in spite of your mounting embarrassment.

“-her chest, okay? Well, not really her chest, but the bindings around her chest and I kind of guessed-”

“Okay, okay, we get it!” San covers your ears frantically before you can hear any more. “Let’s get back to the fortune teller bit. Jongho, do you remember everything she said?”

“Pretty much.” The young battlemaster turns to Seonghwa. “Hyung, do you think you could help me write it down before I forget?’

The cook picks up one of the stray quills on San’s worktable, pulling over a piece of blank paper. “Alright.”

Taking a deep breath, Jongho begins to recite the words from memory.

“Oh nameless one, child of the sea, you’re missing something very important to you.”

“Stowaway doesn’t have a name, so it does seem accurate.” Seonghwa mutters grimly, San nodding in agreement. The two of them are completely focused, intent on figuring out what the cryptic words of the fortune teller mean.

The sight warms you immensely despite the daze you’re in.

“And she is a pirate now, so the part of her being a child of the sea fits.” San adds, leaning his head on your shoulder. You shrug.

“She’s an amnesiac, so she’s missing her memories. We’ve solved the first bit. That’s good.” Jongho glances at the page as Seonghwa scribbles down their interpretation of the fortune teller’s words.

A frown tugs at his lips as he continues. “The secret you keep will ruin the trust you built. That’s the bit about her being a woman, isn’t it?”

Seas, it was weird hearing Jongho referring to you as her instead of he.

“I don’t see anything else that could be it.” San mutters thoughtfully, but Seonghwa cuts in.

“She could hear the voice of the sea monster that was chasing us the other time.”

Jongho’s jaw hits the ground. “You could do what?”

It almost amuses you how the young battlemaster is more shocked at the fact you could hear the sea monster’s voice as compared to the fact that you are a woman.

“Yeah.” You mumble under your breath, but Jongho’s eyes are huge with awe.

“That’s so cool!” For a moment, Jongho looks like the eighteen year old boy he is, still young, excitable, not quite a man yet, but he quickly catches himself and clears his throat. “Well, moving on. To pass the trial, one must cross into death and awaken into life. The biggest obstacle to overcome is yourself.”

He glances around at all of you. “That sounds cryptic and completely unhelpful. And I have absolutely no idea what it means.”

“What trial do you think the fortune teller could be talking about?” San scratches at his hair, frowning as he racks his mind. Seonghwa shrugs, just as confused.

“Well then. I suppose we could just leave this here for now.” Jongho mutters, shaking his head in disappointment. “A jewel resting in a jar of clay. That was when she went bat shit crazy and started shaking our stowaway here, demanding to know who’d made her.”

“Who made her?” Seonghwa questions, looking utterly bewildered as he jots them down. You feel your skin crawl at the words again. There seems to be some sort of significance to it that you can feel, something your mind screams at you to remember, but you can’t.

“She referred to stowaway as a ‘vessel that has only existed for a moon’, whatever the hell that meant.” Jongho supplies helpfully, and you feel San stiffen beside you.

Seonghwa looks equally uncomfortable as he glances at you. “A moon?” He repeats, hesitantly. You don’t know what the fortune teller was indicating when she said you had supposedly existed for a moon, but you don’t think she was referring to the silvery orb in the sky.

Your master frowns. “What I guess the fortune teller was referring to was a moon cycle. A vessel that has existed for a moon cycle.”

“Yes,” Seonghwa begins to argue, gesturing at you. “But how can she only have existed for one moon cycle?”

The two stare at each other for a while, both having some sort of internal battle as to what it could be. You tap Jongho’s arm frantically.

“How long is a moon cycle?”

At your question, Jongho swallows uncomfortably and looks away from you. “A little over twenty eight days.”

You feel like someone has just slapped you across the face.

Twenty eight days?

Your face must be a real sight, because San and Seonghwa immediately rush to comfort you.

“It could just mean that you’ve been without your memory for that long.”

“Yes! I mean, you can’t be that young. Don’t worry about it. It must be interpretation.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, still in some sort of daze. “Right.” Seonghwa gives Jongho a chastening look for revealing something that affected you so much. The young battlemaster mumbles an apology under his breath.

Then San sighs, rubbing his temples. “Honestly, we should ask Yeosang for help with this. No one on this ship is as good with cryptic nonsense, long, complicated words and obscure references as he.”

Jongho nods agreement. “Sometimes I don’t even understand what hyung is saying.”

You nod slowly. To be honest with yourself, you don’t really know what you’d do without these people by your side. Even Jongho, who you’ve just begun to talk to today, has been nothing but infinitely kind and helpful to you. You almost want to slap your past self for being such a fool, for even thinking he could have a bad bone in him.

“Thank you.” Your words come out a little choked with emotion, but the three of them accept it all the same. San doesn’t say anything, but just pats your head as usual.

Seonghwa beams at you gently. “It’s no problem, stowaway. You’re part of the family now. We’d do anything in our power to help you.”

Jongho looks at you seriously. “Wait… but we forgot one last thing. The sea witch.”

Sea witch.

Seonghwa flinches while San shudders, shoulders curling inwards. You frown at the two of them, a little unnerved by their reactions towards the word. The sea witch can’t be very terrifying, can she? Magic tended to be nothing more than the arcane, and from what Jongho has told you, only rare people like San are able to use this inner energy to their benefit.

“What is it?”

“The sea witch.” San echoes, drumming his fingers on his thigh absentmindedly. “We should probably ask Yeosangie more about this before you start to get any ideas, but if the myths are true… the sea witch is a being of immense power that lives on an island that only people in great desperation can find, surrounded by the sirens who serve her.”

“I read the legend of her when I was a child.” Seonghwa turns to you with a mixed look of both pity and worry. “The sea witch bargains with many beings, both supernatural and mortal, to make a deal. In the story I read, she gave a mermaid legs to be with the man she loved but took her voice.”

A deal.

Jongho meets your gaze, both your eyes drawn to the same object, the tiny crystal hanging at the end of your necklace.

The symbol of your bargain with the sea witch.

A headache starts throbbing at your temples, and you furiously rub at them, trying to ease the pain. Seonghwa notices almost at once and rises to his feet.

“We should let him-” He corrects himself. “-her rest.” San and Jongho nod agreement as they both rise to their feet.

“We’ll talk about this another day, apprentice.” San murmurs softly to you as you lie back on his bed, pulling the covers up to your nose. “We’ll talk to Yeosangie about this first, alright? He has a lot of books in Hongjoongie-hyung’s cabin, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“Ok.” Your voice is small, and San gives you a warm smile before leaving the room, Jongho behind him.

But only Seonghwa lingers in the room for a moment, looking conflicted once more.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

The cook looks at you for a long, silent moment before he speaks.

“You should tell the crew you’re a woman soon.”

Your chest seizes up. Yes, you know that Seonghwa and Jongho didn’t especially mind that you were one, and neither did they begrudge you for keeping this secret, but you knew not everyone would be this understanding.

“Especially captain.”

You swallow nervously.

“I will.”

Seonghwa manages a last, weak smile at you before turning to leave. As you lie under the covers, you wonder what might happen if Hongjoong did take the fact that you were a woman badly.

What if he left you in some town like he’d promised to do the last time?

No. No. You couldn’t have that. Not when you’d just started finding constructive clues to your past, not when you’d just started gaining family.

You needed to wait. Not now. You couldn’t tell them now.

The secret you keep will ruin the trust you built.

It was a decision you would later come to regret.

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sasa-gay-yo · 3 years

Text

Just Us (Chapter Nine: Intimate)

← Chapter Eight

“You’ve improved since I left. Who did you practice with?” He sat on the couch as I showed him the techniques he had taught me a few weeks ago. I wasn’t going to tell him that I wanted it to be perfect for him so I practiced it whenever I could, but I just wanted to be approved by Humanity’s Strongest. He wasn’t the type to baby me and tell me I was good when it wasn’t. On the first few days, he would push me on the couch easily, making sure to mind my ribs.

“You just need to touch me with the knife. Is it that hard?”

I probably gained more bruises from the couch than I did from my attackers. If it was anyone normal, I’d probably be able to fend them off, but I guess that wasn’t enough for Levi as he wanted to make sure I could hold my own against someone actually trained to fight. I’d tell him that it wasn’t fair. He had years of experience on any soldier, but he didn’t take my complaint at all. He’d just use that to play with me. I discovered that his version of my teasing was getting me riled up with his insults.

“I just did it in my kitchen when I took breaks and came back from giving the refugee’s bread. Why? How good am I?” I smiled at him and he smirked, head in the resting on his knee. I knew an insult was going to come in a few seconds.

“You could probably knock a few first year cadets on the ground. Mostly teenagers half your age.” I glared down at him and put the knife down on my coffee table.

“Well, I don’t think anyone who’s attacking me in the streets of Trost is going to have the skills of a cadet.” He shrugged and sat back on the couch, his face contracting back to normal. He looked up at the wall and I stood there waiting for him to say something back. I knew there was something wrong when he didn’t give any form of witty reply. It had to be about the meetings in the capital.

I sat down on my chair, taking the fresh cup of tea I had made. Another reason I knew something was up with Levi is because he hadn’t drank his tea yet. It had been an hour, too. He was even the one to bring back the tea from the capital and I assumed he was excited to drink it, but there sat the cup, untouched. I decided to slide into the topic lightly.

“How was the capital?” He looked back down at me and switched the leg he had crossed.

“Boring. We were stuck in long meetings where they didn’t even ask our opinions on the matter. However, that’s usually how it goes.” I nodded and almost frowned at the lack of information he had given me. I’d have to pry it out of him if that was even possible.

“Does Erwin not speak up? He seems to be the type to advocate.” Levi huffed once in laughter and I knew I was wrong.

“It’s Erwin’s strategy to play diligently to the Royal Government. One day when he needs something, it will be easy to pry it out of their hands if they only have a light grip on him. People generally like him because he is so agreeable.” I set my tea down and lifted my legs to sit criss-crossed in my chair.

“I’ve never met Erwin, but from what you say about him, I think I know his personality well.” He shook his head and looked back up at the ceiling.

“You’ll never know Erwin. He’s one of the best strategists I’ve met, but you have no idea what he’s thinking until he says it. It doesn’t help he speaks so cryptically either… when he speaks up.” I rested my head in my hand and knew that this subtle look into Erwin’s personality was mostly from Levi’s frustration. Something happened in the capital that made Levi want to slightly criticize him. I decided I would stop beating around the bush because if I played this way, Levi could easily keep deflecting for hours. It was also no good to just have him sit here for hours and let his frustrations take root in his mind.

“What happened in the capital?” His eyes snapped to me again, quick to deny anything.

“Nothing. Just meetings. I told you that.” He was lying and the shortness of his answers gave it away.

“I don’t believe that.” He let out a sigh and rested his head in both his hands.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he sighed in frustration. That was the true emotion he was hiding. We were finally getting somewhere.

“If you talk it out with a third party, you might feel better. I know nothing about how the military functions, but-”

“I can’t tell you. It’s classified.” Oh. I never thought about that possibility until now. I might have made him more frustrated by trying to get him to talk about it when he strictly couldn’t. Levi wasn’t going to break the rules that easily.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said softly. He didn’t look up, just rolled his head a bit more in his hands, back and forth. It was swallowing him up inside and I just made it worse. Now, I felt awful for doubling the emotion he had to deal with.

“It’s okay. You didn’t know, Eva.” No, it wasn’t okay. I was scrambling, trying to think of something to make him feel better. If tea wasn’t going to work, then what was?

I shot up from my chair, looking down at him. His head was still in his hands like he was thinking over and over about the thing I made him think about. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking this hard about work when he was with me.

When I sat down next to him, he just glanced over to me for a few seconds trying to guess what I was doing. I honestly didn’t know what I was doing or if it would work on him, but I knew what I liked when I got frustrated like this. It was a gamble, but he’d probably go along with it.

“You don’t have to talk about specifically what’s making you frustrated, but I think it’s good to let it out before it eats you up inside. It’ll make you sick if you keep thinking about it.” He didn’t move.

“It’ll make me sick regardless of if I talk or not.” I decided to put my plan in action and I grabbed his wrists, pulling them towards his right where I sat. He let me move them, but his whole body stayed put.

“W-what are you d-doing?” I didn’t let go of his wrists.

“Something I like people to do when I’m frustrated. Will you let me?” He took a deep breath thinking it over, probably having no idea what I was going to do, and took one sharp nod. I smiled and pulled him softly so his head was on my lap and he was looking up at me on his back. He seemed confused.

“I thought you only did this in your sleep?”

“I do it whenever I want to. Especially when I’m anxious or frustrated. Have you done this with anyone before?” He didn’t answer, but he did close his eyes probably trying to get comfortable. I laid back against the couch cushion more and admired his face. It was still stiff with frustration, but it made me happy he stayed laying there. I was going to take another risk since this one paid off so well.

When I put my hand in his hair, his eyes shot open. That was something someone had definitely not done before. I tried to softly massage his scalp with each pass of my hand, getting him to relax further. We stayed like that for a while, just looking at each other, my hand running through his hair nonchalantly. I think he was still trying to decide if he liked it or not. Sometimes I would twist his hair between my fingers, looking for a reaction, but there was none. He just stared at me with those ever intense eyes.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m just trying to comfort you and make you feel better.” He nodded and that might have been my indication that he was fine with what I was doing. He closed his eyes, letting his guard down, finally, and that’s when it was confirmed he was okay with this. My heart did a little flip and rejoiced in the fact that this mission was a success. He did, in fact, like other humans touch… maybe only mine, but I could easily deal with that. What could I do next?

“Erwin accepted something that’s incredibly wrong. He stood there like the dutiful servant to the government he is and accepted something awful they pushed on the Scouts. I refused, but was overridden by him and the other sectors of the military. The fact that we’re going to do something like that and be held accountable… I hate it, but I can’t change it.” I couldn’t lie, I wanted to know what it was so I could give my opinion, and maybe make Levi feel better if someone agreed with him. However, I couldn’t be selfish like that in this situation.

“If you don’t do it, will the outcome be worse?” He shrugged.

“Can’t say. Probably. But, it’s not morally sound what we’re going to do.” I could tell he was holding back, probably wanting to lash out at his superiors. He had to hold it in this long, so what else was he holding inside that brain of his?

“You know you can say what you want here. I’m not going to tell anyone and there’s no one else here. Just us.” I reached down and held his cheek in my hand. He kept his eyes closed, turning his head towards it, almost nuzzling into my touch. I was surprised at his reaction to my touch.

“I don’t want to fucking do it, but I have to. I have to lead these people to their deaths.” The last sentence was quiet and he let out a long, painful breath after he ended. I wondered if they were going to make the Scouts take back Wall Maria. Whatever they were going to do, it was going to lay heavy on Levi’s conscious and add to the heavy load he was already carrying.

He grabbed the hand that was on his cheek, just holding it there. He had opened his eyes too.

“I can tell you what it is, but I don’t want you to be burdened with the truth. I can’t let you feel the way I feel right now. It’ll be too much for you to handle.” I just nodded in understanding and he turned his head back to look up at me.

“I like this. Cuddling or whatever. It has it’s calming effects.” I beamed down at him, happy that my plan worked. I may not have actually helped him in the long run, but it made him feel better in the present. If only I could find out how to lighten the load more.

“I’m glad you like it. There’s many more ways to do it if you’d like to try those.” He laughed a bit.

“I’m not that dumb. I know how to do it, I’m just not inclined to seek out human touch.” He sat up and stared at me for a second, “I want to do something though.” He sat there waiting for me to answer.

“O-oh, uh, okay, yes. You can. You don’t always have to ask.” He lifted his arm closest to me, holding it there. It seemed to take him a few more moments to gather the confidence before grabbing my head and almost shoving it into his chest. His other arm went behind me to support the position. I was basically just leaning on his body sideways. I don’t know why I blushed so hard because of it. I’ve been in this position with Jonas and a lot of other people too. Maybe it was because Levi initiated it and I could hear his heart running a million meters a minute. He put his other hand on my hair, petting it.

“I-Is this o-okay?” He was stuttering again, looking down at me. I knew he was blushing again too. It was funny. Two grown adults were getting heart attacks from holding each other. For Levi, it was excusable. This was his first time holding someone like this. This was probably his first time acting on his feelings for someone too. For me, I’ve had a relationship before and am a naturally touchy person. There was no reason to be this… giddy when Levi held me than it being Levi. That could be why. He was never like this with anyone but me. That makes it more special.

“In a few minutes, it might not be, but I’m fine now.” He nodded and was just looking down at me. In this position, I couldn’t look anywhere by to my left outside the window. I felt his eyes on me still.

“It’s your turn to have your brain picked,” he stated and I noted how his chest vibrated with his deep voice. I pressed my ear in closer.

“About?” He took his hand off my head and lifted my hand up to his face. I had ran out of the lotion he had given me, but he made sure to buy two as he just returned from Mitras. This hiatus had made them dry again.

“The Underground girl with burned hands and the old man that had faith in her.” I laughed once and he place my hand back on my lap.

“How long have you been wanting to ask me about that?”

“Since you said it, but I assumed it would be off limits. Now that you told me I could say anything, I’d extend the same to you.” I smiled. Such restraint he had.

“Only if you promise to tell me about your life in the Underground soon.” He didn’t even take time to think before nodding. He really wanted to know about me… that was nice and different. Most people wanted me to hide the fact I was from the Underground. It makes sense that he would want to know. I wonder if he wanted to compare our experiences about the same world we grew up in.

“I was born in the Underground to some woman I don’t know. My father, I’ve only seen once, but he gave me up to my Aunt. I have no idea what he does or where he is now, and I don’t really care about it either. My Aunt didn’t really like me either, I was an inconvenience, so she sent me to an orphanage a few years after she got me. That’s the closest I had to a family in the Underground. You know no one adopts orphans there, so we all knew we’d be there for the long run, and formed a little pack.” He shifted so he could look me in the eyes as I told my story.

“What orphanage?” I shrugged my shoulders. My time in the Underground was still filled with holes or trauma that my child brain couldn’t understand. Slowly, I would gain back my memory through dreams or sensations, but there were still a lot of pieces missing.

“It was attached to a church, but I couldn’t tell you the name. If we ever went back, I could point it out to you.” He nodded and looked up like he was thinking of the vague place I told him. We would never be going back.

“I got into a group with the older girls and we would sneak out at night. Little did I know they were in an actual street gang, but I guess most everyone there was. One night these girls didn’t come back. I was sick, so I was in the infirmary when they left, but when I went back to the normal room, they weren’t there anymore. I stayed up night after night, hoping they would sneak back in, but they never did. I was probably ten at this point and I snuck out to go find them since that was my family. I knew where the gang was located so I stupidly went to ask them. That’s the first time I was beaten up. They were probably fourteen or fifteen. After that, I felt lost I guess. No one guides you in the orphanage, the people who were like family to me disappeared, my real family was gone, and so I would just keep going out at night alone, just trying to find some sensation.” He shook his head.

“You kept getting beaten up at night and you never thought to learn how to protect yourself?” It wasn’t like he was judging me, but it was more of a slight insult. He knew how it was in the Underground and he knew how stupid I was. He was also probably surprised at my decision to the problem everyone in the Underground faces: Eat or be eaten. I chose the latter.

“Maybe I wanted to get beat up for something to do. To feel something. You know how they talk about Underground teens. Once they get older, they start to realize the actual trauma that happened in their lives. I was definitely abused by my Aunt and her kids, but I was so young it took me too long to realize it to be able to process it correctly. Then, about that time you also try to go up to the surface for the first time and get beat up by the MPs guarding the openings. You think, well if no one in the Underground wants me because I’m an orphan, and no one wants to let me up above, then what am I even doing here in this world? Why did I get dropped in this shitty place? I wasn’t gang material either, as you can clearly tell, so I just wandered like the rest with no goal. I was even called the orphanage’s problem child. They’d kick me out once I got of age if I didn’t change, that was their warning to me sneaking out and coming back with cuts and bruises.” He snorted at that, probably finding it hilarious that that’s how I used to be. Compared to my attitude now, no one would have believed that I’d lost hope in life at such a young age.

“One day, I wandered into the wrong place and some gangster thought it would be fun to dip my hands into an oil can fire. I probably laid in that alleyway for a good few days, just withering in pain and watching my skin fall off. With no sun or moon to indicate the time, the says just blurred together. I realized that this is probably what happened to the other girls at the orphanage and so I accepted that as my fate too. It’s not like I had anyone who would miss me. That’s when this old man came up to me and gave me some water. He wrapped my hands up in his jacket and without a word, he took me up to the surface. Of course I followed. He was the first person to show me any type of regard and he fed me and gave me a dress. I never had clothes of my own, just hand-me-downs. That person was Mr. Flynn and he seemed to have a reputation of saving kids from the Underground. I can’t tell you why he chose me or why he did what he did, but I never left his side after that. You find someone who finally cares about you and you want to stay next to them forever. You’re afraid of what will happen if they ever abandon you like the others did.” He nodded, probably knowing exactly what I was talking about. I wondered if he had any friends or people in the Underground he was attached to in that way.

“Where are the other children he saved?” I stood up and went over to the bookshelf where I kept all the portraits. I handed him the drawing of all five of us and pointed out the people while sitting back down. This was the last year-end we had together, and we knew that Mr. Flynn would soon pass away, so we decided to pay for a proper portrait for all of us to have. It was our gift to Mr. Flynn.

“I was the last and the youngest. He was getting way too old to go up and down and take care of the café all at once. This is Mr. Flynn and I. This man here is the first person Mr. Flynn saved. It’s Jonas’s father, Benjamin. I never lived with him, but he’s the nicest and still treats me like his little sister. Jonas thinks it’s kind of weird,” I moved my finger over to the tall, blonde woman with thinner eyes, “This woman is Catrin and she left a year-and-a-half after I came. She was nice and the only other girl, so we bonded as much as we could. She lives in Stohess now with her husband. You can see, she’s pregnant in this picture. They have a daughter named Kati,” I pointed, lastly, to the person who was sitting next to me in the picture, “Next is Duran. He joined the MPs a while back, but I haven’t seen him since this picture. He’s only a year older than me, but the least liked by all of us. He’s kind of stuck up and was a tattletale… probably why he joined the MPs. He tried to follow me around and get me in trouble with Mr. Flynn.” Levi surveyed the drawing, laughing lightly, probably seeing if he recognized anyone in it. I’m sure he’d probably met Duran at least once in his time at the capital. If Levi went to cadet training, he would have been in the same class.

“Did Mr. Flynn’s name start with an A?” I smiled and nodded. He was a nice old man, but a very, very plain one.

“He wasn’t a very creative man. When he gave us a new name, he’d only think about it for a few minutes. Catrin helped name me.” He quickly looked back up to me, a bit of mystery filling his eyes.

“Then what’s your real name?” He smirked down at him in response. This could be a fun game to play.

“You’ll never know.” He let out a groan of protest.

“You can’t just hid-” I cut him off as I sat back down and put my head back on his chest. I placed the picture in his lap as I was still talking about everyone.

“Anyways, this was the last time we ever got together as a big group. We use to do it for year end to exchange gifts, but after Mr. Flynn died, I said I’d take over the café and none of them came back. It wasn’t there favorite thing growing up, forced to work at the café, but I loved it. This was about three years ago now. I’ve visited Catrin twice to see my niece and I see Ben a lot. I don’t care for Duran, especially with that stick shoved up his ass. Sinc us two came from the roughest situations, we used to fight and get kicked out of the bakery for a day because Mr. Flynn couldn’t handle us and our pent up trauma.” He put the drawing down and leaned back on the couch again, giving me more room to lean against him.

“You seem to be to carry on Mr. Flynn’s legacy. Taking in little kids with desperate or bad situations. Elias, June, whoever that refugee boy is...”

“That’s nice of you to say. I was the one who was attached to Mr. Flynn the most, so it makes sense for me to want to do things like that. Take on the bakery, help the kids... He taught me how nice the world can be, too, not just cruel and lonely. I just want to show that to others I guess.” He put his arm around me again, this time without hesitation. We were back to our original position.

“Did you ever learn why he saved all of you?” I shook my head and closed my eyes. This scene was practically the perfect domestic dream. Here I was on my couch, cuddling up to Captain Levi, talking of random things about my family. It was actually better than I dreamed it up to be. If only I had a drawing of this moment.

“It probably had to do with his wife dying before they could have kids. He found Ben wandering the streets alone a few months after Mrs. Flynn died. I guess maybe he just made a habit of it. Catlin was found in a brothel and Duran on the streets in the Underground like I was. I was the only one permanently injured apparently.” He took my hand in his, flipping it over to look at the front and back. I never thought he could be so… intimate like this.

“How did he die?”

“Old age. It was his time to go when he did. He was almost ninety-five. I was a wreck when he died. I think I cried for three days straight and had to stay with Ben because he’s the most like Mr. Flynn. No one but Ben could calm me down. It was nice though, the weeks after random people would just come into the café and share stories about him. He was a troublemaker when he was young. Perhaps that’s what drew him to Duran and I.” He squeezed my hand when he saw my sad look at the frame. I guess he was a fast learner on comforting people.

“To think you were a troublemaker… I guess it fits your personality.” I turned to look at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t think I heard the countless comments about my height you made to Jonas the first time I met you? That table isn’t far away from your counter. Insulting a military captain can get you in trouble.” I put a hand over my mouth and started to laugh.

“Why didn’t you report me then? Too shocked someone would say things like that so close to you?”

“I guess I should’ve known then that you like to run your mouth. If you were one of my cadets, I’d have you running laps everyday for disrespecting your officers.” I pulled a disgusted face and shook my head.

“Absolutely not. Even practicing this knife stuff has me winded. Don’t get me wrong, I’m kinda strong. I can lift those big bags of flour and…” I paused, thinking of what else I could do.

“And?” He pressed.

“There’s just too many things I can do. I can’t list all of them.” He rolled his eyes and shifted again, this time pulling my legs over his so our bodies were perpendicular. My back leaned on the arm of the couch, but his arm was also there to support me.

“Starting tomorrow morning, I’m going to be gone for a while,” he looked down at me, suddenly more serious than before. I frowned, noting he had just gotten back from the capital this morning, but I knew I couldn’t be that selfish with our time.

“How long?” He shrugged and lifted his hand to play with my hair just like I did to him. He was back to comfort mode once he had dropped this news to me.

“I’m training the cadets for the maneuver we’re doing at the start of the year and there are more meetings here and in the capital. I also have some things I have to do for Erwin. It’s hard to say but three months minimum is my estimate.” My frown didn’t leave by face, but I sighed and nodded. No one had predicted that Wall Maria would fall, so there’s no way to control the volume of work the Scouts have. Especially Captain of the Scouts.

“Can you at least wake me up when you leave tomorrow? I’ll say goodbye to you.” He nodded and I rested my head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you about it when I got here. Then I might have spared you the feelings you’re having right now.” My face went into a confused look and I didn’t look up at him. I was trying to think through what he meant by that. Was he referring to the sadness I was feeling about him being gone for so long?

“Feeling what?”

“You know, whatever this is. Sitting here, holding each other; the feeling of being close. Now, you’ll have to wait months to feel it again because I’ll be gone.” I sensed that he was voicing his own feelings now, but I didn’t press him about it.

“It’s called intimacy. The feeling of being close and wanting to be close to another person. And yes, I’ll miss it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t savor it now. It will make me want it more when you come back, too.”

“I… I have that feeling as well.” I reached up and put a hand on his cheek, pulling him to look at me.

“I’m glad you’re sharing your feelings with me now. I don’t have to guess anymore.” He glanced down at my lips once and on the inside I almost screamed. Was he going to do it?

I had concluded that he had never been kissed in that manner before, if ever, and that’s why he was so confused and shocked the first time I did it. He didn’t know what to say or think and it short circuited his brain. Sleeping in the same bed together probably would end in the same result if I forced it on him. So, I silently vowed to myself that anything that intimate, I’d let him initiate it. That would let me know right away if he was comfortable or not, at least this early on. Once I knew what he was comfortable and uncomfortable with emotion and feeling wise, then it would be easier to read what he wants or needs in a situation. This cuddling was a huge gamble, but it seemed to pay off.

He looked back up at me and closed his eyes. He didn’t move forward any and I just sat there in wait.

“I want to do it, but I think if I did it now, it would be harder to leave. I can’t be thinking things like that when I’m training Scouts to fight titans.” Understandable, but, ugh, if I hadn’t taken that vow I would have leaned in by now. Longing for something you’ve already experienced is better than not having it at all. That was my conclusion.

“I don’t agree, but I guess I understand you.” He pulled my head in and rested my chin on his shoulder. His arms slowly went around me and I realized he was hugging me, one arm on my waist, the other holding my head. I wrapped my hands around his torso a few seconds after, closing my eyes and taking in his scent so I wouldn’t forget it.

“You should give me this shirt so I have something to remember you by. If you’re going to be gone for so long, I might just forget you.” He snorted and pulled me back so he could look at me in annoyance.

“Why would I give you my shirt? I don’t have another one. And, you didn’t forget me the last three… where are you going?” I hopped up and went into my room, digging around the the only set of drawers I had. I recently washed it so it had to be folded in here somewhere.

“Ah, ha!” I yelled and walked out of my room with the shirt in my hands. I threw it at him and he caught it, unfolding it. His face looked even more annoyed once he realized what he was holding.

“You can have that one back. Now give me,” I said holding out my hands to him. He sighed and stood up, turning his back to me, before unbuttoning and taking off his shirt. Well… he didn’t have to turn around. Annoying.

“You can see that when I get back since you look so sad.” My eyes went wide and I didn’t know he was looking at me. Damnit, he got a blush point. When did he get so confident? I’d have to think of something to say back. I couldn’t let him win. Before I could, he tossed the button up over my head. I pulled it off, glaring at him playfully.

“Hm, it’s not big enough to sleep in, so I guess I’ll just have to wear in to work. Hopefully, it doesn't get dirty.” He clenched his jaw.

“Where’s my gift? I’ve been so generous with you, giving you the clothes off my back... That portrait,” he pointed to a portrait that Mr. Flynn had drawn of me by a street vendor, “I want it.” The drawing was me, at the age of twelve, fresh out of the Underground. I looked annoyed and my hair was a mess, and I remember it was around the time Mr. Flynn was trying to teach me to like being above ground. Obviously, by the annoyed look on my face, I wasn’t enjoying standing there waiting for someone to draw me. It was an ugly drawing and he had no business wanting it.

“Absolutely not. Pick something else.”

“No, I want that. It’s not a big request. I want you with me.” I rolled my eyes at him and I knew the only reason he wanted it now was to annoy me. I couldn’t let it happen.

“You said you couldn’t even carry money with you. How are you supposed to fold that up and take it with?” He shrugged and advanced towards it. I put myself in between him and the drawing.

“I’ll manage. Maybe, I’ll put it on my desk so I can look at it every day.” I glared at him again and even he couldn’t hide that evil laugh of his. I had to think of some way to redirect him. I looked around and saw his cape hanging by the door. Perfect.

“Well, if you want me to be with you all the time, then here,” I walked over and grabbed his cape, and now it was his turn to be cautious of what I was doing.

“What are you doing with my cape?” I walked to the kitchen and pulled out the thread from the junk drawer, going to work. The thread was black, so it wouldn’t be very noticeable on the dark green of the cape. It was a quick four stitches before he could walk over and try to grab it from me. I tied off the knot and handed it back to him.

“It’s what we used to do to our clothes to make sure no one stole them. We claimed them as ours.” He picked up the bottom edge of the cape and looked at the letter.

“This isn’t your cape.” I leaned over the edge of the kitchen island and smirked up at him.

“No, but you’re mine. So I’m just marking that.” He scoffed, but kept looking at the tiny letter. It wasn’t noticeable at all unless you knew what you were looking for it, “Now you can’t get rid of that cape. You have to keep it forever.”

“M?” My smirk got wider and I had just given him a tiny in on my biggest secret.

“The first letter of my real name.”

Chapter Ten →

Chapter Masterlist

xx Just a little fluff and plot devices

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi x oc #captain levi #levi heichou #levi headcanons #aot #aot levi #snk #snk levi #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #original character

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senadimell · 3 years

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Boromir for the character ask?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: Honestly? His focus. He's a problem-solver. He focuses on whatever task is in front of him, and while he's the golden child, I honestly don't know if he'd be the best fit for Steward because he seems to be at his best when he's thinking about concrete solutions to discrete problems.

Oh! The other thing is that he evaluates the advice given to him for what it is, not based on the authority of the advisor. He’s not going to accept bad advice just because it comes from a trustworthy source, and he’s going to be honest about his thoughts. So he’ll trust and respect the advice of the council of Elrond, but not to the point where he doesn’t ask questions or question things that don’t make sense (I’m thinking about Caradhras here) It’s a good skill to have as the de-facto heir to Gondor, and it makes sense that he’s not in awe of elves or Gandalf and acts among them as a guest but also as an equal at least in political status, though his experience is vastly more limited.

At the same time, he’s not arrogant or haughty. He's a team player. He’s supportive of decisions for the most part, though where the ring is concerned, things get skewy. He’s not the kind of person to rub mistakes back in your face. He’s compassionate and understanding (which we see even in the way he treats Frodo as he strives for the Ring).

least favorite thing about them: Honestly Boromir doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I suppose his positive traits are also double-edged swords. Focusing more on the advice than the giver sort of has Feanor vibes? And you can see where his focus leads him when he talks to Frodo about why he wants the ring and how he would use it. He can see his corner of the world (Gondor) and his place in saving it (political, but primarily military leadership), and it’s his practicality, drive, and focus that the Ring exploits. He’s too busy thinking about what he must do to save the day that he misses the grander scheme (yet he’s doing it because he cares! he cares!).

brOTP: Um, Faramir, I guess. Though I guess it’d be kinda sweet if he’s got a brotherly relationship with Bergil. I can easily imagine Bergil hero-worshipping Boromir, and so I think it’d be sweet if Boromir did acknowledge him and know him by name.

OTP: none? look, I rarely ship and even more rarely out of canon.

nOTP: also none? Shelob? The Ring?

random headcanon: I dunno...

unpopular opinion: boromir has dark hair Sean Bean is an actor he’s not the only face

So I feel like there’s a bit of a structural problem with the LotR fandom. Characters are often written in pairs or as foils, and inevitably the comparison starts to turn towards “who’s better?” Then, if you don’t ship them, there’s a tendency to aggrandize one character’s virtues and minimize their flaws (which tends to happen everywhere), but then the comparison game starts. Because they have a paired character, the natural next step is to lionize your favorite by de-emphasizing the other character’s strengths and virtues (and sometimes also highlighting their flaws). (I’m not immune to this by far, btw, and am possibly about to engage in it.)

This happen the most with Frodo and Sam, but I think you also see it in Boromir and Faramir. Because obviously, in the books, Faramir is the golden child. Not in his father’s eyes, of course, but narratively speaking. And I have mad respect for him.

Most people don’t try and diss Faramir (because frankly. it’s hard. like, what are you going to say?), but there’s a tendency to downplay the fact that Boromir is his culture’s golden child, and Faramir...isn’t. Which isn’t to say Faramir isn’t beloved by those who know him, but his strengths are not valued in the same way that Boromir’s are. Faramir knows this. And given Boromir’s attitudes discussed above (how confidently he assumes his position in the world), I can’t believe he’s the 100% supportive, loving, sensitive, protective brother that fanon depicts him as. I don’t see how he can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe the brothers love each other deeply. But growing up with siblings has taught me that it’s possible to love someone and yet be deeply wounded by them due to the casual and inescapable intimacy of your relationship? You can share more inside jokes and weird stories than anyone, yet you can never get away from how deeply they know you--not your thoughts, but who you are at home and who you were when you were seven and how you acted when someone broke up with you or what you did when your parents were furious.

You also know exactly how you match up against them, because you will always exist as a unit. And because your relationship is as natural as the lens in your eye (you can’t imagine viewing the world without it), you forget about the other as a person and just say something and don’t think about how it hurts them. You can joke about this one thing and your sibling can carry around the hurt for years and you didn’t even know. And maybe the hurt isn’t even your fault--maybe they were just sensitive and you had no way of knowing, but the hurt doesn’t go away for the lack of malice. And even best-friend siblings are capable of malice towards each other at times.

So Boromir is good at things that Faramir isn’t, and Boromir knows it. He’s probably ribbed his brother in what he thinks is a playful way about when you’re going to shape up, or do X, or do Y, or why do you do that, anyways, or do you realize that’s a little unbecoming? maybe you should stop that. You know Father’s going to think that you’re... And he doesn’t realize how those slights can add up over the years. I do think he’s said things to his peers about his brother that have ended up hurting him. No matter how pure and nice he is, that sort of thing is unavoidable, and due to his cultural upbringing I don’t actually think he’d question the appropriateness of his attitude/acceptance and glorification of martial prowess at the expense of those who don’t have it in the same degree.

I think this passage is really telling:

For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me. 'In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying: Seek for the Sword that was broken: In Imladris it dwells; There shall be counsels taken Stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be shown a token That Doom is near at hand, For Isildur's Bane shall waken, And the Halfling forth shall stand. Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would he say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desperate was our need, was eager to heed the dream and seek for Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to give me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.'

There’s so much you can read into this. Faramir has this dream, and he has it many times. We know he’s a lover of lore and no less devoted to his kingdom than Boromir, though his love is expressed differently. He is “eager” to heed the dream. So would I if I was having prophecy dreams all the time.

But is Faramir a member of the fellowship? No. Why? Because Boromir “took it upon himself.” He wanted to do it, he thought himself the better candidate (and Faramir the worse), and he argued his way into doing it against his father’s wishes. Coupled with Denethor’s later attitude towards Boromir, I’m inclined to believe Boromir was uniquely able to obtain this quest for himself because Denethor has a soft spot for him.

I find myself inclined to disregard Boromir’s account of Faramir’s motive (”how desparate was our need”), because it sounds like he’s justifying the appropriateness of his actions. If it’s just about the great need of the kingdom, it’s nothing personal that one brother goes and the other stays. That view implies that Faramir’s interest in this mission is primarily utilitarian in purpose, with a little academic curiosity--that is, it’s nothing personal. Doesn’t matter who goes! Not as long as we protect the kingdom! Which...just doesn’t square with his description of Faramir having repeatedly cryptic dreams that he wants to understand. I can almost guarantee that Faramir wants to know what those dreams meant more than Boromir.

It’s a bit tragic, because ultimately Faramir was more suited for the quest than Boromir (tramping about in the wilderness doesn’t seem to be a problem, he’s also a team player, and he’s much more willing to accept the power of the Ring/not downplay its personal danger, and would be able to see it in a bigger picture beyond just Gondor). Ultimately, though, if Boromir was the one to catch Frodo in Ithillien, the story would have a veeeeeeery different ending. (Gollum would likely be dead, and I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to just. let Frodo and Sam go free.)

I kind of view their relationship as a much less antagonistic version of Agravain and Gwalchmai from Gillian Bradshaw. (Agravain is more of a jerk than I can ever imagine Boromir being, and has a wicked temper).

Also none of this is to say that I don’t think he’s not protective of his brother.

So a lot of words to say: I don’t think the Boromir and Faramir relationship is as uwu cinnamon roll as it seems in fandom. I think they loved each other, but I think Boromir did have a tendency to take what he wanted when he thought he deserved it and not give it a second thought, even when it was at the expense of his brother. Sure, he’d defend his brother night and day, but I expect him to be a bit of a jerk, be unaware of the extent of his behavior, and also see little wrong with it (the ring quest seems to have crossed a line, by the way he justifies it).

Still, they do love each other deeply and genuinely. It’s just a little more conflicted.

song i associate with them: Requiem, from Dear Evan Hanson. Not a particularly creative association (and I don’t associate him with Connor at all), but his death comes as such a shock at the beginning of TTT and brings with it so many mixed feelings due to both their relationship and the circumstances of his death. Nobody’s mourning is straightforward: not Frodo, or Denethor, or Faramir, or Aragorn, or Merry, or Pippin. His absense is woven throughout TTT and even RotK, in plot and in emotion and in theme.

favorite picture of them:

Don’t really have a favorite, but this one is nice.

The Sean Bean runners-up: one, two

#asks #answers #boromir #did not think i had this many thoughts about boromir!#thank you so much for the ask!

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word-scribbless · 4 years

Text

Worry

request: Can you do an Adam Ruzek X Reader imagine where the reader works in intellegence and faints cause she is over stressed, dehydrated and scared cause Adam is undercover. Adam finds out about this and takes care of her?❤ @fullwattpadmusictree

Masterlist

—————————-

Suddenly the whole world was dark. You could hear muffled noises and feel people moving around you but didn’t know what was going on. You remember being at work, talking to Voight. So why did it feel like you were waking up from a really awful sleep in a room full of people.

“Y/N/N wake up, come on newbie. Don’t make me call Adam and tell him you passed out.” You heard Kevin’s deep voice.

‘Passed out? Shit’ you thought as you replayed his words.

At the thought of Adam, everything came rushing back.

Adam was working undercover, had been for the past 3 weeks. You hadn’t heard from him or seen him. You only knew he was okay from the cryptic texts he sent Voight every other day. This wasn’t new to you in your 3 and a half year relationship, this time felt different though.

You hadn’t been eating or sleeping well. Everyone saw how much this affected you. Voight tried to keep you as in the loop as possible. He knew you were usually such a trooper when Ruzek was undercover. Always optimistic and supportive. This time was different however, and he didn’t know why.

No one but you knew why this one was so hard. Adam Ruzek has proposed to you one beautiful night just over a month ago. You hadn’t told anyone because the next day he found out about this undercover assignment. You knew this one would be rough, but wanted to support Adam anyway you could.

He knew that you were engaged before and that your fiancé was killed but he didn’t know the full story.

He didn’t know that your fiancé was you partner at NYPD and that he was killed only a few weeks after proposing. You usually weren’t superstitious, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you were cursed. And if you were that might mean Adam would never come home to you.

As much as you knew this was silly and tried to push it away, it ate at you until you were a nervous wreck. You’d been trying to hide it but knew after this you’d have to come clean.

You could hear but not talk or move just yet.

“Should we get in touch with Ruzek? Try to pull him out?”

‘No!’ You tried to yell, but nothing came out.

“I was anyway, this is clearly too much for Y/N. He was supposed to be done next week regardless, and it’s only an intell mission we’ll just take what we’ve got now.” Voight rasped out , and you heard his worried tone.

“No” you tried yelling again. Everyone stopped and turned to you. Apparently it worked this time, it had come out as a whisper, but still, they heard you. You blinked your eyes open and saw Haley’s hand in yours.

“Don’t pull him boss, I’ll be okay. I just haven’t been eating like I should.” You whispered.

“Too late Y/N/N, orders were sent this morning, your boy is coming home”

You cried In relief, but also embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Voight I promised you our relationship wouldn’t mess with work and I let it I’m so sorry!” You were now sobbing.

Voight knelt down and scooped you up in his arms. Since you transferred to intelegence 5 years ago, Voight had been like a father to you.

“Y/N sweetheart, it is not your fault. Something is clearly wrong and that’s alright, you just need to tell me what it is. I should have pulled him sooner, this, this not eating and worrying yourself to fainting isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

You opened your mouth reluctantly to explain when the bullpen door flew open. A frazzled, and scruffy Adam, straight from his undercover op.

“Where is she?” He boomed before spotting her on the floor crying in Voight’s arms. Kevin has texted Jay that Y/N fainted and Adam had read the text as Jay was driving.

“Baby what happened?”

“I’m okay”

“ I know when you’re lying.”

“She fainted” Voight said and you winced as the worried look on Adams face as he took you in his arms.

“You haven’t been eating enough again! This is my fault I knew I should have stayed with you! I shouldn’t have left right after giving you this.” He said, pulling the chain with the engagement ring out from under your shirt. Eeveryone but Voight had left the bull pen to follow a lead, or give you space, you weren’t quite sure. The three of you were all still sat on the floor.

You heard Voight take a breath.

“Y/N you should have told me. I would have picked someone else.” Voight said and you Winced again at his worried tone.

“We were going to tell you but you told us about the op the next day” you sniffled, knowing he was connecting the dots. He knew about Kyle and how and when he was killed.

“Y/N what happened to Kyle wasn’t because he proposed”

It clicked in Adam’s head now too and he held you tighter.

“He was killed right after he proposed?” He breathed causing you to nod.

“1 month later, on an undercover op.”

“Oh baby. I’m so sorry!”

“I know it’s dumb but my brain-“

“It’s not dumb y/n but you need to take care of yourself.” Adam breathed out as he kissed your head.

“ I ruined the op.” You cried.

“You didn’t” Adam said shaking his head.

“I let us get in the way of the job”

“You didn’t Y/L/N” Voight agreed.

“I got everything we need I was going to give the go ahead to end the op tomorrow.” Adam assured you.

“But I would have pulled him weeks ago if I’d known it’d help!”

“ I broke the pro-“ you started

“I’m not going to fault you for caring y/n, or worrying yourself sick, however I’ll be pissed of you ever do it again. I knew when I approved of your relationship each of you were going to get over emotional at least once. You held out for a long time.” Voight laughed.

“He held out longer” You said nodding to Adam, causing him to hang is head and Voight to smirk.

“Your boy lasted a week.”

“What?” You laughed.

“He almost knocked out a uniform throwing his vest to go get you from talking down Haber on that hostage call 6 days after you came clean about your relationship.”

“You never told me that!” You said raising your head from Adams chest to look at him.

“Yeah and I wasn’t going to.” He threw a half teasing glance at Voight.

“Hey! No secrets remember?”

you said, lifting up the ring attached to the chain on your neck.

“It wasn’t a secret” he scoffed as he unclasped the chain, taking the ring in his fingers. “I just didn’t want you to think I was lame, then I forgot about it on purpose and hoped it’s go away.” He laughed.

“Still want this?” He asked with a joking tone, but you could still hear his concern,

“I will always and forever want that, and all that comes with it” you smiled, holding out your hand for him to slide it back on. You pulled him down for a kiss, not noticing Voight slip out with a smile on his face.

“Let’s get you checked at med and then home to rest.” Adam said softly, as he helped you up.

“Bu-“ you started to argue.

“Nope I’m not negotiating on Med but when we get home I’ll cook you some Mac and cheese and you can pick a movie.”

“Can I have snuggles?”

“Duh!”

You nodded and let yourself be led to his car.

You stopped on the top step and said “promise me this won’t stop you from doing your job, even the undercover stuff. He sighed but nodded, knowing you’d never forgive yourself if he changed how he worked because of you.

“ONLY if you promise me you’ll tell me if you EVER feel like this again, and if I’m away you tell voight.”

“Promise! Now take me to med so I can get home to my snuggles! I missed you!” You smiled

He leaned down to kiss her again. “I missed you too baby.”

#chicago pd imagine #one chicago x reader #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd #adam ruzek x reader

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Hermann preparing for date night with Newt by selecting where to eat solely by what he has a coupon for. Or, ya know, frugal connoisseur Hermann. <3 ksci

inspired by a convo re: the fact that ksci @k-sci-janitor likes to make fun of me for never letting a coupon go to waste even if it means walking like 2 miles in the cold to use it :/ like im gonna NOT get a free Baja blast. (there is one small little allusion to some M rated stuff towards the end in this)

-------------------

It’s not a rare occurrence that Hermann will treat Newt to dinner when the mood of dining out strikes them, but the point is that he’s doing it in a way that’s supremely…shifty tonight. Well, maybe not shifty. Weird? For one thing, he didn’t tell Newt where they were going until they were already on the bus headed there, for another, it’s their sharing-a-lab-anniversary, which tradition dictates they evenly split a bill (even if the origins have more to do with both trying to show up the other and take advantage and order the most expensive shit on the menu). The weirdest thing is definitely that, when Hermann got up to pay the bill five minutes ago—a small, folded piece of paper clutched in his hand—he left his wallet laying next to his wine glass on the table.

Newt stirs his straw around in his cup of soda, clinking ice cubes against the sides, and squints at the wallet. Did Hermann bring cash to pay with? He could’ve stuck some in his pockets without Newt seeing, or his bank card, even, which would explain the forlorn wallet. Or maybe forgetting the wallet was totally an accident, and he’ll be back in a few seconds to pick it up and pay for real when he realizes. That’s probably it.

When Hermann comes back to their table, though, he doesn’t bother with his wallet—he takes his seat, picks up his wine glass, and tips it at Newt. “That was quite lovely, wasn’t it?”

Newt hums. “It was.”

“I quite liked the fish I got,” Hermann says.

“I loved my noodles,” Newt says. “We should try to copy the recipe back at the base.” He sets his straw delicately on the table. “How’d you pay without your wallet?”

“My wallet?” Hermann says. He makes a show of catching sight of the wallet, arches his eyebrows in mock surprise, and picks it up. Here we go. “Oh, goodness. Did I forget this? Well—it’s not as if I needed it…” He tucks it neatly into his inner jacket pocket.

“Hermann,” Newt says, rolling his eyes. “What’d you do, get a hundred-percent discount by reminding them we saved the world a few months ago?” Hermann shakes his head, and takes a long sip of his wine. “Did you write a check? Did you pretend we got food poisoning or something?” Hermann shakes his head again, and this time, his mouth begins to creep up into a smug smile. Newt remembers the piece of paper. “Dude. You got us a fucking Groupon. No wonder you were being so weird about what I was ordering!”

(“I think we ought to stick with the entrees labelled B, Newton,” Hermann had said, flipping a page forward in Newt’s menu. “They look—er—far better.”

“More expensive,” Newt had said.

“What’s it matter? I’m paying.” Hermann had pointed at the noodle dish Newt had ended up getting. “Look, I reckon you’d like that.”)

Hermann finally grins triumphantly. “I did—and saved us quite a decent from our ‘date night’ fund. Pity it didn’t extend to dessert, I suppose, but we could always find some ice cream at the commissary later.”

Newt can’t even pretend to be exasperated. The noodles rocked. And they would’ve rocked even more if he knew that Hermann was saving them a few bucks. “You’re such a weirdo,” Newt says, shaking his head, though he’s mirroring Hermann’s grin. “Is that why you picked this place?”

“Not entirely,” Hermann says. He takes a long, slow sip of his wine. “Mostly I picked it to make a point.”

“About?”

“About my being right.”

Newt sighs. Only Hermann would dredge up old arguments on Lab Anniversary Night. It wasn’t even an argument, really—all that happened was that Hermann asked Newt to hand him his glasses cleaning cloth from his parka, and it took Newt almost ten minutes because Hermann’s pockets were so jam-packed with a million little coupons for everything from granola bars (which they can get from the mess hall for free) to mouthwash (which Newt can snag from the commissary, also for free, whenever they need it) that he couldn’t find anything but. A majority of them were expired. Then Newt remarked on how Hermann was nuts, and Hermann remarked on how Newt didn’t understand the value of making smart financial decisions, and they went back and forth for a bit like that. This was a whole week ago, too. In terms of Newt and Hermann arguments, that’s more than ancient history. “Are we really talking about the fucking coupons now?” Newt says.

“Frugality pays off,” Hermann says, cryptically. “Now we really ought to head out. The forecast is calling for rain, and I don’t fancy getting caught in it.”

They get caught in the rain anyway. Newt invites himself over to Hermann’s bunk to dry off, because Hermann bought a space heater back when they were stationed in Russia, and it travelled with him here to aid through the long nights of overpowering A/C. Right now, it’s aiding Newt through stripping out of his wet clothes. When he’s down to just his boxers, he snags the quilt from Hermann’s bed, and waits for him to finish up in his little en suite bathroom to hopefully catch a hot shower. One of the unexpected side effects of the world not ending and most nonessential personnel leaving the ‘dome in doves is that they almost never run out of hot water anymore. Newt can take a shower at midnight and not freeze his ass off. It’s awesome, really.

Hermann emerges from the bathroom in a dorky little pair of pajamas, a dressing gown knotted at his waist. “Oh, Newton,” he sighs, and prods at Newt’s blanket cocoon with his cane, “not my grandmother’s quilt.”

“I’m dry!” Newt says. “Mostly!”

He gives up the quilt to Hermann and ducks into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stuck a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet at some point, for when he was too sleepy and lazy after makeout sessions to go back to his bunk, and sure enough he finds it alongside a suspiciously generic-looking tube of toothpaste. It doesn’t even have a label. He doesn’t think much of it until he starts to use it, which is when he immediately gags and begins to rinse his mouth out with hot water. “What the hell is this toothpaste?” he chokes out. “It tastes—awful.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. He ducks his head into the bathroom, looking a bit sheepish. “Well. I found a coupon for that brand, and I know it’s not very, er, pleasant, but—I saved forty percent, Newton.” Newt continues to rinse his mouth out, this time adding some mouthwash into the mix. “Oh, really, now you’re just being dramatic. It’s only toothpaste.”

“Dude,” Newt says. “I feel like I just rubbed, like, acid cement all over my gums.”

“Ah,” Hermann repeats, guiltily.

A bit later, Newt goes in to kiss Hermann goodnight as they settle into Hermann’s bed together, but pulls back with a sad little pout when Hermann merely flinches away from him. “Oh, Newton, I’m sorry,” Hermann says, quickly wrapping his arms around Newt and kissing his neck. It softens the blow somewhat. “It’s that bloody toothpaste. You still smell like it. You’re right, it’s rubbish.”

“Tell you what,” Newt says, grumpily. “I’ll buy you a brand new tube tomorrow. My treat.”

Newt mostly forgets about the coupon thing for a bit. The odd little item crops up in the lab that makes him roll his eyes fondly at Hermann, but nothing as major as the Groupon or toothpaste. Hermann’s preferred tea brand swapped out for something Newt’s never heard of in a flavor that Hermann clearly detests, if his face when he drinks it is anything to go by, for example, the chocolate digestives Hermann keeps in his desk replaced with plain ones, his new box of chalk all in a salmony shade of pink and weak enough to snap apart under his fingers if he presses down too hard on his chalkboard. When Newt asks about the changes, the answer’s always the same: Hermann had a coupon for them, or they were less expensive than his usual. Newt just wishes he could understand where this sudden bought of thriftiness came from. It’s not like it was back during the war, where they had to pinch pennies and save in every area they could if they wanted to supplement their nonexistent funding. They’re actually getting paychecks now, on behalf of the UN’s guilty conscience! They have free room and board! They even put a few neat bucks away from some (heavily-redacted) interviews they did back in late January.

What Newt’s getting at is Hermann doesn’t have to limit them ordering out sushi to only places with free delivery on date nights, or skimp on his pizza toppings (four-topping down to two) so they can use a better coupon, or buy any of those subpar teabags or digestives or toothpaste tubes. But he just…is.

The tipping point occurs on a Saturday night about a month after the Groupon incident.

“Nn. Hermann. Do that again.”

“Do—?"

“Yeah.” Newt groans, turning his head to the side. “Oh, shit.”

“Newton—” Hermann kisses his throat. “Newton, you’re—”

“Wait.” Newt pauses. “What is that?”

“Oh, er.” Hermann pulls his hand away. “You mean the—the—?”

“Yeah. It feels…weird.” He frowns. “That is not what we used last time.”

“Oh. No. It isn’t.” Hermann clears his throat. “Well, Newton—see—we were out, so I thought I’d—I’d buy a larger bottle, to last us longer, and I happened to find a coupon for this lovely—er—gallon-sized—”

“You’re kidding,” Newt says.

“Only I thought it was a very frugal purchase,” Hermann says. “We do tend to, er, burn through it rather quickly.”

Newt rolls away from him. “Dude. We need to have a talk.”

Some brief amount of time later, they sit together on the end of Hermann’s bed, clad in their pajama bottoms and, in Hermann’s case, one of Newt’s sweatshirts. Newt waits until Hermann meets his eyes blushingly before he proceeds. “What is up with you lately?” he says. “You’ve been acting so—weird. Weirder than usual,” he amends. “Since when have you cared about saving a couple bucks on random shit like pizza?”

Hermann fidgets, and sighs, and finally reaches to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieves a piece of paper folded into quadrants, and for a wild moment Newt thinks it might be another Groupon. “Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Hermann says. “I was going to wait until it was all finalized—but it’s close enough now, so I suppose there’s no harm in it.” He thrusts the paper out at Newt, and Newt—still wondering if it’s not another Groupon—unfolds it with surprise to find what looks like a flight itinerary. Two tickets for Hong Kong to Boston, with a short layover; then two more tickets a week after they land for a short trip from Boston to some town in Maine Newt recognizes as being seaside. They’re made out to Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler and purchased a little over a week ago.

“You kept telling me you wanted me to meet your father,” Hermann says, and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “And—I thought it might be nice, to have an—er—vacation, for a few days. We’ve certainly earned one. And it’s not as if we have any truly pressing obligations at the moment that can’t be put on hold for a week or two. I was planning on booking us a little cottage up in Maine—or maybe just a hotel room, I hadn’t decided—but we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“And you’ve been saving up for it?” Newt interrupts.

“For a few months now,” Hermann says. “Since February, in fact.”

“And that’s why…?”

The tips of Hermann’s ears turn red. “Every penny helped,” he says.

Newt carefully re-folds the itinerary, sets it aside, and then kisses Hermann soundly. It would be safe to say that Hermann’s thoughtful, romantic moods tend to be on the spontaneous side, probably as spontaneous as they are in Newt, so when one strikes Hermann (and in such a perfectly Hermann way as this one) Newt doesn’t like to take it for granted. “Of course I wanna go on vacation with you,” Newt says. “You rock. Seriously.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hermann says, looking pleased.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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