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lem-20 · 1 year

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Fandom/Pairing: The Wayhaven Chronicles/ Felix Hauville x f!detective (Mila Wilson)

Rating: Explicit 🔞 minors dni

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: Felix spends the night with the detective after her welcome home party at the end of book 3

A/N: This is purely self indulgent as I haven't been able to stop thinking about Felix after going through his route for the first time, and I honestly feel that F doesn't get anywhere near enough attention! So here, have some smut, sandwiched between fluff, with a tiny bit of angst.

Read on AO3

"Are you sure you don't want me to help you tidy up?" Tina slurs over her shoulder as Verda tries to guide her out of the apartment.

"I'm sure, Tina," Mila replies. "You organised the whole thing, so no cleaning up for you. Besides, I think bed is the best place for you right now."

"I'm barely even tipsy." She tries her best to walk in a straight line, but stumbles, knocking her leg on the edge of the coffee table. "Ouch!"

Mason lets out a snigger and Nate glares at him before turning to Verda, "I'll help you to make sure she gets home safely."

Verda gives him an appreciative nod.

"Thank you both," Mila shouts out after them as they open the front door and walk Tina out.

"I'm gonna stay to help Mila," Felix announces, as Adam and Mason head for the door.

"Okay, I'll see you when you're back," Adam says, then glances over at Mila. "Goodnight, Agent Wilson," he nods, before turning back towards the exit. Her new title seems to flow freely from his lips, resulting in a rush of warmth to her chest. Feeling accepted by Unit Bravo means more to her than she could possibly express, and she's well and truly part of the team now.

"Enjoy," Mason smirks. Felix shoves him out the door, but Mila notices that he's trying to conceal a smile as he does so. Their playfulness with each other never fails to entertain her.

Felix closes the door and presses his back against it. Their eyes meet and they hold the gaze for a moment, sending Mila's heart into a flutter, which is the case for pretty much any time she's in Felix's company. She bites her lip in anticipation...

"Right, let's get tidying then," he says, pushing off the door, and Mila almost lets out a disappointed groan.

He grabs a bag and starts to shove random bits of rubbish into it. Mila stands on the spot, enjoying the view as he bends to pick things up off the floor. Then he catches her looking. "You know, this cleaning up would be done much quicker if you helped," he winks.

"Well to be honest, I didn't think you were actually planning to help tidy," she replies.

"Why wouldn't I?" He does a very exaggerated stretch up to unpin a decoration from the ceiling, causing his top to lift, revealing several inches of his toned stomach.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you" she giggles.

"I know how you love to look at me, I thought I'd give you a bit of a show," he smirks.

She walks over to him, taking the bag off of him and cupping his face with her hands. "Kiss me," she demands.

He doesn't comply instantly, instead he smiles at her. "I love how direct you are now, not that I didn't enjoy how much I could make you blush when we were first getting to know each other."

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Your flirting was very forward and I'm not used to that kind of thing."

"But you loved it," he teases.

She lets out a sigh, "I can't exactly deny that now, can I? I'm sure your hypersenses made it obvious that I did."

He places his hand on her chest. "Oh yes, the sound of your rapid heartbeat very quickly became my favourite song. It still is."

Mila bites her lips together and laughs through her nose as she feels herself going all weak and silly. His sweet, if not cheesy, lines always have her feeling as though she's about to melt into a puddle.

Felix gives a smug smile and places a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Stay with me tonight?" she asks as their lips part.

"Of course, babe. I couldn't possibly leave you on your own on your first night back at home," he replies.

"Thank you. I'm so glad that we get to spend some time together," she lazily drags a finger down his chest, stopping just above his trousers. "Alone."

"And what do you have in mind to fill that time?" he asks, followed by a hard swallow.

"Oh the possibilities are endless," she smirks, before letting out a yawn.

"We don't have to do anything like that tonight if you don't want to, I'm guessing you're probably tired after your party?" He wraps his arms around her waist, leaning back so he can look at her face.

"No, I'm okay. I want to, like really want to." She places her hands on his chest, looking up into his eyes, "unless you don't?"

"Oh babe, I always want to," he grins, "I can never get enough of you."

She bites her lip to hold back the huge grin that is trying to escape, but she doesn't need to as Felix smothers her mouth with his. Their lips stay together, tongues dipping into each other mouths as they do their best to head for the bedroom without toppling over.

Felix's hands are busy peeling off Mila's clothes on the way, and she's completely naked by the time they get there.

"Now, that's a talent," she says, briefly breaking the kiss.

"One of many," he smiles.

"Mm hmm," she replies, and their lips are back together as she unbuttons his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. Her hands move to his chest, running down his toned muscles before stopping at the button of his trousers. She hesitates for a moment, then rubs a hand across his crotch, feeling how tight they have become around his growing bulge.

She pops the button and pushes his trousers down, followed by his underwear, allowing him to bounce free.

His hands slide softly down her back, leaving a tingling trail in their wake. He gives a gentle squeeze when he reaches her rear, then hoists her up into his arms.

Her legs wrap around his waist as he steps out of the puddle his clothes are now in and carries her the few steps it takes to reach the bed, then he lowers her slowly down onto the mattress.

Their lips come back together in a kiss so full of passion that she can barely focus on anything other than how her whole being feels completely consumed by him.

She's snapped back to reality when his mouth leaves hers, but it's only a second until he's kissing her neck. He lets his teeth scrape gently across the vulnerable skin, before doubling back with his tongue.

His kisses start to move down her body and he takes one hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it briefly before travelling lower and lower until he's nibbling at her inner thigh.

Her hips give an almost involuntary thrust as her body begs for him to satisfy the desperate ache she has between her legs. Of course he obliges and gives one long lick through her centre—sending a jolt of pleasure through her body—before he settles there, giving smaller licks and gentle sucks.

Her fingers grip into the coils of his hair as he works her and she feels like she's going to be catapulted over the edge within seconds, the way he's going. "Felix," she calls, while placing her hands onto the sides of his face to lift his head. "I want you up here."

He gives a nod and a small smile. "Whatever you want, babe," then he moves up the bed, their lips coming together again in a frantic kiss. Her hands are all over his back, nails gently scraping as she goes, until she reaches between their bodies, wrapping her hands around his hardened length. She pumps him a couple of times before slowly rubbing his tip around her entrance. They let out a satisfied sigh in unison at the intimate contact and the almost overwhelming physical satisfaction that it brings.

Her hand releases him, leaving him lined up with her and he pushes slowly forward. Her body's desperate need for him allows him to slide into her with ease, and she can do nothing to stop the moan that leaves her lips, and she feels the smile Felix gives in response.

He holds himself above her with one arm, while the other hand reaches for her breast, caressing it as he begins to thrust his hips. Their lips part as they both let out little gasps and pants as they enjoy the sensation of their bodies coming together over and over again.

He feels so good, but she gets an urge to have more control over the situation, so she squeezes her legs around his and gently tips them to the side. Felix gets the message and they manage to stay together as he rolls onto his back.

She sits up on top of him, grinding into him with a circular motion, as she controls exactly where she needs and wants him to reach.

She looks into his amber eyes—those golden pools so full of affection as he watches her—she could get lost in them for hours. "You're so amazing," she states.

"At this, or just in general?" he smirks.

"Both," she confirms, as she moves a hand to draw a soft line down his cheek.

"You too, babe," they both let out a little chuckle, before they fall back into the intensity of the moment.

Felix reaches a hand between her legs and begins to trace circles over her most sensitive area. Her head flings back with a moan at the instant surge of pleasure it sends through her. She closes her eyes for a moment to enjoy it, then leans forward to press her lips to his, their thrusting becoming faster and faster until a wave of ecstasy almost knocks the air out of her as she climaxes hard.

She lets out a long moan, but tries not to slow her motions, desperately wanting Felix to get his own release. She presses her mouth to his ear, breathing heavily and that's all it takes to send him over the edge. He grips her behind, his hands helping to keep her body going as he rides it out with heavy breaths.

When he's done, Mila collapses onto his chest and he brings his arms around her. "Oh wow..." Felix breaths out with a sigh. She smiles as she keeps her head on his chest, listening to the heavy thrumming of his heart "...that was so, so good," he continues.

"Yeah, it was," she agrees.

"I just want to be able to do that with you every day," he says.

"I wish we could, but in our line of work, I don't think every day will be possible." She moves up to place her head in the crook of his arm.

"I suppose," he replies, stroking the side of her face with his hand. "I guess we'll just have to make the most of the time we do get alone."

"Definitely," she lets out a yawn, feeling her eyes getting heavy as Felix continues to stroke her cheek and then it all fades to black.

----

It's only a couple of hours into her sleep when she wakes, and for a moment she's disorientated—this isn't her bedroom at the warehouse—then she remembers that she's home, although it doesn't really feel like it. She'd got so used to be at the warehouse, it's strange being back here.

It doesn't quite look the same since the repair work and it certainly doesn't smell the same—with the scent of plaster and paint still heavily lingering in the air.

But then she rolls over to find Felix asleep next to her—his handsome features highlighted by the gentle moonlight creeping in through a crack in the curtains—and she suddenly feels completely at home, because home is wherever he is.

It's a cheesy—but so very true—thought that brings a smile to her face and causes a warm flurry of happiness to course through her entire body.

But it's also a scary thought.

She's fallen for him so hard and so fast, which in itself isn't all that surprising. He's so open, and kind, and funny...in fact it would be easier to get a list of all the positive adjectives to describe a human being and just slap a picture of Felix's face next to it.

Except he's not...

He's not a human being, he never has been and never will be. So how come he makes her feel more human and more alive than she's ever felt in her life?

Then that other thought creeps in, one she tries to ignore and suppress, because she doesn't want anything to stop her from feeling the happiness he makes her feel. She can't imagine her life without him, but one day he'll live without her. Without even considering the risks they both face during their missions with the agency, she's still more likely to die before him—her mortality and fragility make it that way.

She'd give anything to be able to spend all eternity with him, but it's just not possible.

Unless...

It's a conversation too serious and too heavy to be having at this point in their relationship, and she still doesn't fully understand how all that side of things works. Would she even be able to go through with it, and would Felix even want her to turn?

It's silly really to think so far ahead when things are still quite new between them, but her feelings for him are so intense, and for reasons she can't explain, she just knows that he's it for her.

As though he can sense her thoughts, (which he probably can, she thinks), Felix opens his eyes, instantly looking concerned when he finds her awake and watching him.

He reaches out for her hand. "Are you okay, babe?" His touch, mixed with his obvious care and concern for her has all her worries melting away instantly.

She nods. "I'm so lucky to have you."

He pulls her down, bringing her into a gentle embrace. "I'm the lucky one, babe," and he places a kiss on her head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She wraps her arm over his chest, "I am now," she replies. And she really is, because in that moment she knows she could do it. She could turn for him.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #felix hauville #f hauville #twc felix #felix hauville x detective #felix hauville x f!detective #twc fanfic

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songofsoma · 1 year

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a wish to be loved

CONTAINS BOOK 3 SPOILERS set right after the ava kiss scene, at least cece has great friends

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles words: 1,525 rating: general

read it on ao3

When the door shut behind Ava that sick yet familiar feeling of loneliness began to fill the space. It wound through her like tendrils, wrapping around her throat until she felt like she couldn’t breathe and plugging her ears until the rang. All she could feel was the rawness of her lips from being kissed, the heat on her thighs where Ava’s hands had lifted her, and the ache settling deep in her chest.

Cecilia knew what loneliness was more than most.

It was like a second home.

Every single person in her life who she had truly loved left her at some point.

It happened when she was seven and her dad died. Her favorite person in the entire world cruelly ripped away.

Then every time her mother chose work over her, leaving her with a random babysitter until Cecilia was deemed old enough to care for herself. After that, it was just Cecilia coming home from school to an empty house to cook herself dinner and put herself to bed hoping she might get a chance to see her mom in the morning, even if in passing.

There was no more childhood after Rook died.

Her poor heart was broken in so many ways, but this time might just be the one to leave it completely shattered when the woman she loved left her.

The dried tears from before were quickly replaced with fresh ones. Since the start of the kidnappings, it was like every time she wasn’t good enough was a new crack in her sanity. She was on the brink of disaster and was only held together by some shitty scotch tape at best.

Cecilia did her best to hide it, putting on a smile and making sure those around her were alright. If she focused on them it would allow her to not think about herself. She knew others could tell from the way Farah stared at her sometimes and even Nat when she thought Cecilia wasn’t looking. No one said anything outright.

She turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and suddenly it was like she was a child again. Dad dead. Mom busy working. Left to take care of herself even when she was raw and vulnerable.

Her eyes slid away from her reflection, unable to handle the memories any longer, and landed on the soft shape of the duck stuffy sitting on top of her dresser. It felt like a lifetime ago since the carnival and her and Ava’s “fake” date. Cecilia remembered her excitement when Ava handed the prize to her, claiming she had no use for it.

Cecilia loved that fucking duck. She had been so relieved that it hadn’t been ruined in her apartment accident.

She stood before it now, staring into its little glass eyes and it all suddenly became too much.

The first sob shook her and the ones following brought her to her knees as she cried.

She cried for her lost childhood. She cried because she was so damn lonely. And mostly, she cried because she wished someone would love her in the way she loved them.

At some point, Cecilia had made it to bed.

She lay on her side in the quiet darkness, stuffed duck nestled in her arms.

A hesitant knock sounded on the door. It opened before she could respond.

“Cece?” Farah called quietly into the room. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

Luckily the vampire didn’t need light to navigate the dark bedroom and crawled onto the bed quickly. “I’ll even let you be the little spoon,” Farah teased, slotting herself behind Cecilia beneath the covers.

Cecilia was grateful for her best friend’s comfort. A hand curled around Farah’s soft forearm as a few coils of hair tickled her cheek. The feeling of familiarity was a blessing as the smell of her friend’s soap and the slightest hint of cinnamon sliced through the dreaded loneliness.

“I would’ve come sooner but thought you might need some time,” she murmured.

She nodded. “Thank you,” Cecilia rasped, her voice hoarse from crying.

Farah was silent for a few seconds before saying, “We could always break into Nat’s special room and find her stash of old alcohol. Not like she’s going to use it. Besides, I think she’d let you do just about anything right now.”

That made Cecilia snort. “As tempting as that sounds, my head already hurts enough.”

She felt Farah shrug the shoulder not pressed against the mattress. “Fair. Offer still stands.”

It made Cecilia finally produce a small smile.

They lay there without saying much for a while. Cecilia wasn’t up for talking and Farah clearly understood. With someone else with her, she was finally feeling the exhaustion of her emotions surging forward until her eyelids were becoming heavier by the second. Farah had come dressed in her pajamas, having already intended to stay with her best friend as long as she was needed.

“Hey, Farah,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I love you. You really are my best friend.”

Farah’s arm squeezed her tightly. “You’re my best friend too. I love you so much that I considered kicking Ava’s arms out from under her earlier so she would faceplant into the ground.”

Cecilia smiled, although she wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about. Still, she appreciated the sentiment.

She and Farah parted ways the next morning. Morgan had come and banged on Cecilia’s door trying to find Farah so they could go on their patrol. To say Farah was uncharacteristically irritated with Morgan after was an understatement.

Cecilia hugged her goodbye, smiling at the promise they would watch stupid movies later together when she returned.

Knowing it would be stupid of her to hole up in her room, Cecilia made the brave decision of venturing out into the kitchen. She pushed the thought of seeing Ava to the back of her mind while trying to ignore the way her stomach turned at the idea.

Thankfully, there was only Nat seated at the table, squinting at a crossword puzzle with her lips pursed. A pencil twirled absent-mindedly in her fingers.

“What’s the question?”

Nat looked up seeming a bit surprised by Cecilia’s presence. She recovered quickly though, looking back down to her paper. “Who don’t you put in a corner?”

Cecilia crossed the room to stand behind her and looked over her shoulder. “Baby.”

The woman twisted in her seat, a look of confusion pulled at her features. “Why on earth would you put a baby in a corner?”

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “No, the character’s name is Baby. It’s from the movie Dirty Dancing.” Cecilia took a seat in the chair next to Nat. “Why did you choose a pop culture crossword anyway?”

“Farah printed it out for me. She said it would keep me busy.” Nat paused, long fingers drumming on the table in thought. “I suppose she was right on the keeping me busy part because I have no idea what half of these words mean strung together like this.”

Cecilia smiled—until Nat truly looked at her in her Nat way that openly read I know you aren’t okay. Then her lips curled into a frown.

“Are you doing alright?” she asked, reaching over to place a hand on top of Cecilia’s.

She let out a long sigh. Her head still hurt from crying last night and she was sure her eyes were puffy so she looked a wreck. “I guess.”

Nat squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to be. It’s completely understandable.”

“I’m sure you already know what happened then,” Cecilia mumbled, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. Something about their friendly warmth made her feel unworthy.

“Secrets don’t seem to last long around here,” she said, then followed by, “Farah told me after she saw Ava in the hall.”

Cecilia stared at the pattern in the wooden grains of the tabletop. The muscles in her jaw were already beginning to ache from the way she clenched it. “It just…” she trailed off at first, finger tracing the space where her gaze went. “It just hurts.”

“What does?”

Swallowing hard, Cecilia finally met Nat’s concerned look. “Loving someone who doesn’t love you back. No, let me rephrase. Loving someone who feels the same but won’t let herself and breaks my heart over and over again in the process.”

Nat frowned but nodded in understanding.

She felt tears flooding her eyes once more. “I’m not strong anymore, Nat,” Cecilia whispered. “I feel like I’m falling apart. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

By the end, her voice was wobbling and Nat moved from her chair to kneel in front of Cecilia, pulling her into a hug. Cecilia clung to her tightly, willing herself not to break into tears all over again.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Nat whispered.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cecilia caught movement. She turned her head just in time to see the figure of Ava slinking back into the hallway and the mournful look clouding her face. “Me too, Nat. Me too.”

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thewayhavenchronicle · 1 year

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53, 54, and 57 for Nell and Farah please!

53. Would they ever go skinny dipping?

"Farah!"

Nell's harsh hiss is met with nothing more than a delighted cackle as another piece of clothing hits the ground. They can feel themself flushing, fixing their eyes firmly on one of the trees nearby instead of their soon-to-be very naked girlfriend.

"What?" she laughs, and the sound of soft footsteps approaching makes Nell's jaw clench. "No one's around. Live a little."

Farah's hand tugs teasingly on the hem of Nell's sweater and they gasp, hands coming up to grab at the hem in panic -- which just makes her laugh again. They screw their eyes shut, shaking their head.

The sheer thought of someone walking up on them without any clothes on in the middle of the river is...

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

"Suit yourself."

They aren't entirely sure whether that means she's going to put her clothes back on or not -- but the sound of a loud splash proves them wrong.

They open their eyes curiously, finding her wading into the water with a sigh. She casts a teasing glance back over her shoulder, golden eyes catching the moonlight in a way that could only ever be described as ethereal. Lifting her shoulder a little, she sinks deeper into the water with another sigh.

"The water's warm from the sun still. You should come in."

They stand there for a moment, wringing their hands. They know they're not the most exciting person in the world, and they always worry that Farah's going to get bored with them. Maybe...

Their fingers shake a little as they pull their shirt over their head -- the air is cool against their skin, sending goosebumps facing over their skin, but any chill is quickly chased away as Farah whoops with excitement. They laugh a little, delicately setting their shirt on the ground and reaching for their skirt next.

They chicken out of pulling everything off, content that their bra and underwear is already terrifying enough, but Farah seems excited that they're even willing to do that as they wade into the water after her.

She's right that the water is warm, though it's nothing compared to the heat of the way Farah seems to be drinking in the sight of all their newly revealed skin. She sinks deeper into the water, grinning wickedly as she swims backward a little -- and then she lifts her hand, crooking her finger to beckon them closer.

They feel very much like they're under her spell as they follow her deeper into the water. When they are both comfortably in the water deep enough that it reaches their shoulders, she slips her arms around their shoulders, pressing up against them and grinning at the way their breath hitches.

"...alright?" she asks, tilting her head.

Nell laughs a little, wrapping their arms around her waist and nodding. "I... yeah. Surprisingly."

She snorts. "Good."

And then she kisses them, and the combination of her lips and the slickness of their skin brushing against each other under the water makes them feel hot all over.

Maybe skinny dipping isn't as scary as it seemed like.

54. Who’s more likely to carry the other to bed?

"...what are you doing?"

Farah pauses, one arm already under her girlfriend's knees, surprised to find them already looking up at her suspiciously. They'd fallen asleep on the couch about a half hour ago and Farah, being the loving girlfriend that she is, had thought it would be cute to carry them to bed.

The look they're giving her says otherwise.

"I'm... carrying you to bed?" she says, though it comes out as a question rather than a statement.

Nell snorts, but Farah doesn't move away. Their eyes shine with uncertainty as they say, "I don't... think that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"I -- Because I'm -- I mean, look at me."

Their face is red, heart beating erratically in their chest. She doesn't understand why they look so embarrassed, nor does she really understand what the problem is.

"I am looking at you?"

"Then you should know how big I am."

"I... guess?"

They blink. "I'm fat."

Farah frowns, tilting her head. "Still not getting the issue, Nellie."

"Wha-- I don't think you can lift me. No one has been able to lift me since I was a kid."

Farah blinks -- and then snorts with laughter, tightening her grip around them. They look very adorably flustered by that, and she almost feels bad, but she's already too enamored with the idea of being the first person to carry them like the royalty they are. Fixing them with a smirk, she tightens her grip a little more and stands easily, cackling when Nell yelps, arms clutching at her shoulders like they think she's going to drop them.

"Babe," she laughs, leaning in and burying her face in their neck as she giggles. "Babe."

"...shut up."

Farah just laughs more as she turns and starts to make her way to their bedroom.

"Forgot about the super strength?"

"...yeah."

"You're so cute."

"I hate you."

Farah laughs, and they laugh with her. It's very cute, and it's even more cute the way they yell a little when she drops them on the mattress unceremoniously. They are only just settling on the bed when she hops up into the air and flops onto the bed beside them, making them both bounce as the room fills with laughter.

She loves them. So, so much.

57. Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

"Farah."

"Yes, babe?"

"What have you put in my cart?"

Nell had only been turned away considering a new appliance for their kitchen for a few minutes. They hadn't even pulled away from the cart, really, but...

"Please, Nell?"

A pile of DVDs from the dollar bin is the least of the things that Farah had somehow snuck into the cart. There are also game consoles, complete with a couple of video games, as well as several sets of new pajamas. Nell blinks, and then looks up at their girlfriend who is making a very convincing set of puppy-dog eyes at them.

They sigh.

"Fine," they say, placing the appliance they wanted on top of everything else. "I guess at least you aren't trying to feed me different foods out of curiosity."

"Actually..."

"What now?"

She grins sweetly. "Last time you'd had that wine you like, you smelled so good."

Oh.

"Can vampires taste it when people have been on a certain diet or if they're on drugs or something?"

That seems to take Farah by surprise, and she straightens up a little. Tilting her head, she asks, "Are you... asking me what your blood would taste like?"

They shrug. "I mean, who isn't a little curious? And it's not like I have that magic blood that Saoirse and Nori have. What's the danger, really?"

Farah's jaw drops. "I... um, yeah. You can, kinda."

"...do you want to taste mine, later?"

Farah spends the rest of the shopping trip thoroughly distracted, to the point that she wonders if they'd meant to do that. It doesn't last all that long, though...

Her girlfriend's blood is sweet, just as she'd expected.

#my writing #nell x farah #twc farah #twc detective #farah hauville #f hauville

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sustainably-du-mortain · 11 months

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f0r the basic ship .... feme? hawhau? th0rneviIIe!!

14, 21, 23, 30, 41, 42, 44,, 48, 49

I've just been calling them Sunshines but I like Thorneville!!

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

They love pda. These two are constantly holding hands, arm wrapped around the waist or shoulder when they're walking. Always have a hand on the other's lap, arm, knee when they're sitting next to each other. They give each other quick little pecks on the cheek, forehead, lips too. Overall, every cute little display of affection you can think of, they do it. They're just not the kind of couple who makes out in public, that they keep in private.

21. Do they enjoy domestic life?

It's not something that they've ever experienced before, so learning how to live with someone else is something really new to both of them and they really love it. Getting to learn about the other's quirks, their small habits. They get to exist in the same space and I think they'll never grow tired of that.

23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship?

Their relationship is founded on trust, honesty, friendship, kindness and intimacy. I would love to add healthy communication to this, but at the moment, it's not their forte, especially on Côme's part, although it's likely to become one in the future.

30. What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

Côme: gift giving & physical affection Felix: physical affection & words of affirmation

Their love languages work great together because they share one but also because the one they don't share kind of complement the other's personality/insecurities.

Felix loves Côme's habit of gift giving because it always reminds him that he's on Côme's mind a lot, and Côme always loves his excited little reactions when they give him something. Felix' love language, on the other hand, manages to lessen Côme's insecurities about not being enough, so being constantly reminded that Felix trusts them, believes in them and loves them, makes them more confident.

41. What would they do if they lost the other?

I think it would take a while for Côme to realize that they lost Felix. Like it wouldn't hit them right away and I can see them going on about their life as normal for a couple of days, because that didn't happen, right? This couldn't have possibly happened. Until they have that moment of realization and it hits them like a truck. They'd isolate themselves in their sorrow and someone, likely someone from UB who can get what they're going through in some ways, would have to look after them, help them get through it, make sure that they're eating and that grief isn't eating them alive. But eventually, when they processed Felix's death, they would try to always think about him in positive ways, do things they used to do or things they meant to do together to keep Felix alive in their memory. They would have that "Felix was a ray of sunshine and I need people to remember that" kind of mindset.

For Felix, it would hit right away, but I think he would have that "I need to etch every minute detail about them into my memory or else I'm scared I'll forget about them" kind of mindset. I feel like while he would feel immense sorrow about losing his loved one, he would need to talk about Côme, need to reminisce about happy memories they shared. He would love to hear about other people's memories too. I feel like this is something that would bring him even closer to UB, especially since I think he would need UB's help to not lose it when grief is threatening to eat up at him. He would need someone to remind him that he's allowed to mourn, that it's not going to tarnish Côme's memory. But in the end, I think he would have the same mindset as Côme's about needing people to remember that Côme was a ray of sunshine too.

42. What’s their relationship like with each other’s friends/families?

Côme settled pretty well within UB. They got on Ava and Mason's nerves a bit in the beginning but it all resolved as they got to know each other better. They always go to UB, especially Nat, when they want to do something for Felix. Overall right now, they get along like a group of close friends. They'll eventually come to think of UB as their family.

Felix is friendly enough with Rebecca but they're never going to be close friends and I don't see him as considering Rebecca as part of their family, because I'm not sure he sees Rebecca as more than their handler. He also doesn't really know where to stand with her because Côme's relationship with her is very neutral and not very child/mother like. As for friends, he gets along pretty well with Tina. These two instantly clicked together and while they're not besties yet, they def have each other's number. With Verda it's a little different. Felix is friendly with him but I hc he finds Verda a little intimidating, so he would love to get to know him more, he just doesn't really know how.

44. Do they cuddle often? Why or why not?

They do because why not? They both love physical affection and cuddling is perfect to unwind after a stressful day or just because they feel like it. So yeah, cuddling is a must

48. Do they talk about their future together? Why or why not?

They haven't really talked about it yet. Côme is someone who lives one day at a time so they do not really think about the future, but I can see it coming up at some point, during one of their late night convos. Or one of them, realizing in the middle of the night that they want to spend the rest of their lives with the other, so they wake them to tell them just that. So when they talk about it, it's in the form of random conversations or if Felix initiates it.

49. Do they keep secrets from each other?

They don't, mostly because they can't. These two are terrible at keeping secrets: Côme's every thought reads on their face and Felix lets everything slip out one way or another.

If they do keep secrets from one another, it's about stuff from their past they haven't talked about yet, but either plan on talking about it but haven't got the opportunity yet, or they do not feel comfortable enough to share that part of their past yet or it just slipped their mind. And even then, I don't really think that can be considered keeping secrets because they're not keeping it secret for the sake of it.

Basic ship asks

#idk if that last question makes sense tell me if it doesn't #took me a while but I did it!!#i love you for making me rack my brain about these two #ship ask: pinky promise #côme x felix #oc ask: côme hawthorne #felix hauville #twc f #twc detective #grape🎃#ask game #ali's headcanons #cw: character death

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lykegenia · 2 years

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The Wayhaven Chronicles Nate Sewell x Leah Kingston Murder Mystery

The kittens are settled in a spare room, in a large pen made from some of Nate’s spare bookcases with the litter tray in the opposite corner to the cat carrier. Blankets have been scrounged from deep in the warehouse, and Felix has already retrieved a hot water bottle and leaned it, wrapped in a fluffy cushion cover, against the outside of the carrier to keep the little inhabitants warm until they’re old enough to properly generate their own body heat. As Leah watches him peer into the dark interior, she’s reminded of a kid that’s seen the plop of a frog into a pond – or herself, waiting for leftovers to finish spinning in the microwave. Her phone pings just as he turns to Adam with a pout.

“They’re all awake now, why don’t they come out?”

“This is all very new to them,” reminds the ever-patient Nate. “We should give them some time and quiet to get used to being somewhere safe.”

Contrite, the young vampire rocks back on his heels. “We should get them some toys, for when they want to play. And they need names.”

“We should be focussed on the case,” Adam says. He’s stern as ever, but the extra blankets were his idea.

“Tina just sent me Russell Seakirk’s address,” Leah interrupts. “Someone could come with me to check it out.” Nate’s the one she looks at as she says this, but he only has an apologetic smile for her.

“I’ll be more use looking into Agency records in case there is a supernatural connection after all,” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck.

It makes sense – they should keep all angles covered, including the ones she can’t put on the murder board at the station – but it doesn’t lessen the brief disappointment that snags in her chest.

Adam clears his throat. “Felix, you go with the Detective.”

“But –”

“The case is the priority.” A pause. “I will see the kittens are cared for.”

A second passes where it looks like Felix will argue, but then he springs up with preternatural speed and beams at Leah instead. “Can I choose the music?” he asks. “I just downloaded a whole load of new songs onto my phone.”

She shrugs. “Sure.” Nessie’s radio is the only thing that works, and she needs to have some noise while she’s driving. Besides, the others all pull faces when they’re asked to go with her instead of using their abilities – even Nate, who isn’t very good at hiding his dubious expressions.

As they step into the corridor, he calls out for them to wait, his long strides closing the distance until Leah has to tilt her head back to look at him.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers in a low voice.

With Felix on her other side there’s an awkward squeeze to the silence, and she takes out her phone to hide in its sat nav app, plotting the best route to the victim’s house. It’s cowardly, but using work to cover uncertainty in other parts of her life has been a sound strategy in the past.

“How are you feeling about your second murder case?” Nate asks after a moment of walking.

She guiltily slips her phone back into a pocket. “I’ll be happy if we can catch whoever did it.” And if they don’t decide to kidnap me for any creepy science experiments. She squashes down that last part because worry and guilt war so obviously in him whenever anyone mentions Murphy, and because it sounds a bit too much like self-pity for the image of the capable, unconcerned detective that she wants to project. Instead, she tries to focus her mind back on the case. The first few days are the most important. After that, it’s easier for evidence to get lost or hidden, or –

Nate catches her wrist, a casual, brushed touch that halts them both. When Felix looks back to ask why they’re not following, he forestalls the question with a reassuring smile and a flow of words in an unfamiliar, trilling language. The younger vampire frowns briefly, but then shrugs and replies in the same tongue, before flashing a grin at Leah.

“Meet you at the car!” he calls with a wave before vanishing in a blink of superhuman speed.

“That was Echolian, wasn’t it?” she asks Nate. “What did you say to him?”

He ducks his shoulders, his gaze sliding away and then coming to rest on their joined hands. “I told him I wanted a few moments with you to myself.”

“What for?” Her eyebrows twitch together in amusement at how sheepish he looks.

“To tell you how amazing you are,” he purrs, “and how lucky I am to know you.”

A hot, tight wriggle of something uncomfortable makes itself known in the pit of her stomach and she drops her gaze to his chest. It sounds like a line. It sounds like she’s heard it before. “Save it for when I solve the murder.”

“Can you really not see the impact you’ve had on all of us?”

“It’s only been a few months,” she insists.

“I know, but…” He frowns, lips parting as if to say something else until he thinks better of it and instead ghosts the back of a finger along her jaw to tilt her up to face him. “I didn’t just want to say that.” There’s a sly tone in his voice now, a smooth switch from earnest to suave that makes her heart gallop – terror or anticipation, she can’t tell.

“Why else, then?” she asks, breathless as he leans in.

The smile bowing his lips widens. In a detached sort of way, it occurs to her that even if the capillaries in her face weren’t so treacherous, it wouldn’t matter because he can read the rest of her body’s autonomic responses just as easily as the flush in her cheeks. It’s unfair. But she sways forward nonetheless, until his breath feathers against her cheek.

“I wanted to wish you a successful day catching bad guys.” The words are a barely-there murmur.

“Here’s hoping –”

She can’t think of anything more to say beyond that. Her fingertips brush Nate’s elbow, exerting slight pressure, and he takes it as permission to close the gap. She’s not used to kissing him yet, to the eagerness as he presses close, the catch of breath and the rush of heat across her skin. Even when they pull apart, close enough still that she can hear him swallow, it doesn’t feel over. It lingers. His hands are soft on her face, his thumb a slow stroke across her cheek.

A noise from somewhere else in the building jolts her back into reality. Her eyes open to find Nate watching her, with a hungry edge that makes insides squirm.

“Felix is waiting,” she manages, hoarse.

“Will I see you later?” he asks.

The honest answer is that it depends – on what they find, on what else might go wrong – but that might seem too indifferent.

“I hope so.”

He smiles, which means she got the answer right. He darts in for another quick kiss. “Stay safe, Leah.”

“This is Wayhaven,” she points out, and he frowns. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”

“I look forward to it.”

She turns and heads for the car, pulling her phone out of pocket again. Even with her mind settling firmly into the business of the mystery, however, she can’t resist a brief glance back. He’s still standing in the middle of the hallway, his expression not one she’s quick enough to interpret before it melts into a smirk that puts all other thoughts out of her head.

“Let me know if you find anything in the Agency’s files,” she covers, and darts out before waiting for a reply.

Russell Seakirk’s home turns out to be a one-bed chalet in a holiday park outside the main part of town, pretty enough, with sky-blue cladding and a varnished deck, and a view out between the trees that border the lake. The gentle lap of water at the shore forms a background to the birdsong and the sound of children playing out of sight behind a rise. After a brief glance over the outside, Leah leads the way to the site office, where the grizzled site manager rises from a book of crossword puzzles to greet them. When his eyes narrow, she knows he recognises her.

“And what can I do for you today, Detective?” he asks with an easy smile.

“One of your tenants,” she answers. “Russell Seakirk. He’s dead. I would like to have a look at his property.”

“Blimey – right, yes. Of course.”

They follow his shuffling steps along the road to an isolated with a clear view over the lake and a small collection of empty plant pots gathered around the front door. It takes a moment for Leah to find the right key from the set Tina took off the body, and a moment more of fiddling before the old lock will turn, and all the while the landlord hovers over her shoulder in a miasma of fresh soap and stale beer.

“Any, uh word on when I can get a new tenant in here?” he checks. “Waiting lists for these babies are a mile long.”

“Our investigation is ongoing,” she replies automatically. Minimal information, not enough to invent details if asked, or to tip off guilty parties. “Any problems with Mr Seakirk?”

“Ar, not really.” The landlord shrugs. “Kept hisself to hisself. Away with the fairies most of the time, if you catch my meaning. Been chasing him for rent. I told him I was keeping count, so long as he made it up in silly season. Don’t suppose I’ll be seeing it now.”

“Silly season?” Felix asks in an undertone.

“When the tourists come,” Leah supplies. It’s a headache every year, the roads clogging with caravans and campers, noise complaints, litter everywhere, and too often a belief that you only need manners if you’re not a paying customer. She shrugs off the thought and steps over the threshold.

The inside is bland, sour, with the air of somewhere barely inhabited. It’s only not a mess because there aren’t enough possessions to cause clutter in the first place, and the few personal touches immediately visible don’t seem to have been picked with an overarching plan in mind, or any particular thought for comfort. A storm lantern stands on a table in case the power goes out; the second-hand furniture in the small living room doesn’t match and looks well worn; the windows are fitted with office blinds instead of curtains. When she tries to open the door further, it’s blocked by the small mountain of unopened mail piled up beneath the letterbox.

She nudges it aside with the side of her foot. “What about the neighbours?”

Another shrug. “Holiday lets. Seakirk’s one of the few who lives – sorry, lived – here year-round, why I gave him a few months’ grace, as it were. It’s not all that pleasant in the winter, but needs must in this economy, eh?”

“Has he always been bad with money?” she asks as she pulls on a pair of forensic gloves.

“I don’t mean to speak bad of him,” comes the reply after a moment. “Didn’t really seem to think of money the way most people do. But it wasn’t so bad, not until a few months ago.”

“What happened a few months ago?” Felix asks. He’s starting to get a feel for investigation.

“Not my business, couldn’t tell you.”

“I see.” She gives the man a smile and passes him her card. “If you think of anything that might be relevant to the investigation, my number’s there.”

He takes the hint, salutes with it. “Will do detective. And, uh… this place…?”

“I’ll let you know,” she assures him.

He nods and tramps away, and she breathes. Felix has already dived in and started rummaging around in the bedroom. Leaving him to it, she flicks through the letters on the doormat. Warning bills, final notices, usual junk. Nothing that stands out, though when she opens the letter at the bottom of the pile it’s dated almost a month and a half ago.

“Find anything?” she calls as she steps into the living room.

“There’s a bunch of ticket stubs and receipts from the museum on the bedside table.” He emerges and holds up a crinkled scrap of paper in an evidence bag. “Is that useful? I used gloves like you told me.”

She nods as she takes the receipts. “It might be somewhere to check out. ‘Vanilla cream latte and flat white with a shot of butterscotch’… someone had a sweet tooth.”

There’s more mess in the living room, books stacked with nowhere else to put them, and all in clear plastic dust jackets with indexing stickers on the spine – from the library. She picks one up and sees a check-out date from weeks ago, without a renewal. Most of the titles seem to be about local and maritime history. The one in her hand has been dog-eared, but a brief scan through doesn’t reveal why, so she shrugs and puts it back on the pile before continuing with the search.

“Let’s see…” she mumbles. “If I were a supernatural living in a tiny trailer who wanted to keep secrets, where would I put them…”

Under the sofa is always a safe bet.

Moving the coffee table aside, she squats down and sticks her arm under the sofa. After a bit of blind patting, her fingertips manage to snag the edge of what feels like a spiral-bound notebook. She stretches further, her position sprawled on the floor hardly dignified, but she can think of worse things she be stuck in up to the shoulder.

“Gotcha.”

When she finally pulls the notebook into the light, there’s nothing remarkable about it, A5 with a pattern of green and yellow fish on the cover – but when she opens it to look inside, a folded piece of paper falls to the floor.

It's a detailed map of the lake. Dozens of circles have been added in black biro, each one labelled in a tiny script she can’t read. More of the same symbols are written into the notebook, and though at first they all seem to swim together, after a moment she recognises where two of them match, and something clicks. The cipher might be beyond her, but the notes are arranged like journal entries, their headings corresponding to labels on the map, with the same strings of symbols repeated next to each other in grids that slowly spiral around a point just off the southwestern shore.

It's a search pattern.

But for what? As far as she can recall, nothing valuable was ever sailed from Wayhaven’s port. Every dockside town boasts local stories of smugglers, but in Wayhaven most of them are focussed on the inlets and forested gullies on the opposite shore, far outside the boundaries of the town itself, where there’s an easier connection to the coast.

She’s peering so closely at the pages she jolts when Felix comes in, holding his nose.

“Whatever you do, don’t go in the kitchen. The fridge is full of fish. With their heads still on.” He shudders. It’s a bit hypocritical coming from someone on an all-blood diet, but she doesn’t comment.

“What do you think of this?” she asks instead, holding the journal up for inspection.

He blinks. “It’s Echolian.” After a moment he takes it, squinting at the words and even turning the notebook upside down.

“You can’t read it?”

“It’s… what’s the word - gibbonish?” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Gibberish?” she asked. “How so?”

A shrug. “The letters are Echolian, but the words aren’t.”

“It’s not English written in Echolian letters?”

“Is that bad?”

Tossing the end of her braid back over her shoulder, she stands and places the notebook into another evidence bag, casting one last glance at the sofa, which is a determined hiding place if not a smart one. Added to the fact that whatever Russell wrote was coded in a language only spoken in a different universe, the care he took in making sure it wasn’t found by any casual observer means it has value. It complicates things.

“I was hoping for just one mystery,” she confides to Felix. “Can Nate read Echolian?”

“Have you met him?” he snorts. “Of course he can.”

She smiles. “Then can you take this to him to decode.”

“Do you think whatever’s in here is why Seakirk was killed?”

“We won’t know until we know what it says,” she answers. It could be entirely coincidental. Her instructor at the academy always delighted in reminding her students that a scratch on a pocket watch might mean anything.

“I’m sure Nate’ll get right on it, especially if I tell him it’s a special request from you,” Felix teases, waggling his eyebrows. “Where are you going next?”

“The station,” she replies. “Hopefully Verda has autopsy results for me.”

Felix wrinkles his nose at that and follows her outside so she can fasten the door. Someone determined would find little trouble forcing the lock, but it should keep at least casual intruders at bay until the city techs can get in to do a sweep. No sense inviting people in to trash the place if the journal really is something to do with the murder.

“You know, you don’t have to wait for me,” she chuckles. “You’ll get to the warehouse much faster if… Felix?”

He’s tense, coiled as if ready to burst into motion, his gaze fixed on the clump of small trees that separates this row of cabins from the next. More so than any of the others, she forgets he’s still a predator. Smoothly, her hand goes to the Volt gun at her hip, watching him, trying to see what he sees.

“Felix?” she repeats.

He starts. “Huh? I thought I saw something. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” The last thing she wants is for Trappers to insert themselves into her perfectly normal, not-for-the-Agency case.

“Yeah,” he replies, with one last look at the copse. “I must just be on edge.”

He shakes himself, but Leah doesn’t turn her back, or take her hand off her gun, as she heads for the car. She’s never faced a supernatural threat without the whole of Unit Bravo as back-up.

“Hey, how about I come with you as far as the station anyway?” he asks.

Her relief shows in a breath. “Want me to listen to more playlists, huh?”

“Wha– oh.” He grins. “You know it.”

She laughs and ducks into the car, but can’t help shake the feeling of eyes on their backs as she starts the ignition and pulls away.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #n sewell #nate sewell #nate x f!detective #nate x detective #nate sewell x f!detective #nate sewell x detective #murder mystery #wayhaven #adam du mortain #felix hauville #a du mortain #f hauville

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lukas-du-mortain · 1 year

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I'll be with you, always.

#det. séamus ó madagáin #𓆩♡𓆪 mo chroí 𓆩♡𓆪 #felix hauville #twc felix #twc f hauville #detective x felix #twc detective

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daisymakesstuff · 4 months

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Infiltrated

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: Farah Hauville x F!Detective (Pax Izaz)

Rating: T

Description: What is a scientist-turned-detective to do when the mysterious government agents sent to "help" her on a murder case are very clearly the primary suspects?

Written in present tense, 3rd person POV. Selected segments of Book 1 rewritten and presented in chronological order.

The first 8 chapters are currently up for this, covering portions of chapters 3-10 in Book 1 and is at 24,922 words right now.

Read on AO3

#my fanfic #pax izaz

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smalltowndetective · 2 years

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Simple Days

I’m so sorry that these have taken me so long to get to! I know things have changed in the months that I have been gone, but I hope you are able to enjoy this anyway! (Here is a bit of an explanation of where I’ve been)

And thank you to the lovely @night-triumphantt for letting me use your detective! Sorry that this took me so long again! I absolutely love both Kiara and Felix, so it was so great to be able to write for them! I hope I did her justice!

Ao3 Link (All Requests can be found here)

Title: Simple Days Paring: Felix and Kiara (@/night-triumphantt’s detective) Words: 1.1k Notes: Set sometime after B3 Prompt: “Are you wearing my shirt?” You mean our shirt?”

The early morning sun had appeared hours ago, it having to already be midday by the time that Kiara had woken up. For someone who normally needed multiple alarms in order to wake up in the morning, it was a massive blessing to be able to have the day off.

She would not have minded spending longer in bed, but she and Felix had made plans to meet up at the warehouse this afternoon. To do what, she was not sure. It seemed to be suggested that they would figure that out when the time came.

Not that she minded that much. Because if she was being honest to herself, they could end up just hanging around the warehouse all evening and she would be perfectly okay with that. Because really, it hardly mattered much with that they did.

What really mattered was just being able to be there with him.

And a plus side of being able to sleep in was that she actually felt more awake and refreshed then she normally did the morning, a massive shame that was not able to do this more often due to the pull of adult responsibilities.

While she was getting dressed as she normally did, deciding not to change her style much from how she normally did, the skinny jeans and a t-shirt with plenty of jewelry, her eyes had gone to one of Felix’s jackets that was laid on top of the chair in her room.

Whether the jacket was left or stolen, well, Kiara would neither confirm or deny, but one thing that she could deny was just how nice it was to be able to wear her boyfriend’s clothes at all. Like a piece of him that was there even when he was not.

Smiling, she put it on, allowing her curly black hair to spill over her back as she did so, it slighter larger than her normal jackets, but cozy, nonetheless. Grabbing her keys and her phone, she made her way out of her apartment, leaving the bright colored walls behind.

Her eyes blinked as they got used to the summer light, different then the light that had been streaming through the windows. But even still, there was a sense of peace, Wayhaven finally able to get the chance to go back to normal, and hopefully for longer this time.

As she made her way to her car, she pulled out her phone to check the messages that she had missed while she was gone from the land of the awake, and sure enough, Felix had.

Felix: Can’t wait to see you today! ❤❤

Kiara could not stop the grin that went across her face at the sight, nor would she ever really want it to, immediately going to write a response.

Kiara: Heading over there now!

With a new sense of urgency, she went straight to her car, and started to slowly pull out and start to make her way to the warehouse, the brightness still not ever having left her face.

~~~

Around twenty minutes later, she had finally arrived at the warehouse, the somewhat dismal sight that she had grown used to, at least from outside appearances. The anticipation had been building during the entire drive, and it only gotten to the height of its tension now.

And what Kiara could not decide what she expected it or not, Felix was also outside, perking up as she pulled in and starting to almost run towards her as she got out of the car.

She met him in a tight hug, his head going to rest on her shoulder as she pulled him closer, chuckling slightly, “Hello to you too”

He laughs as well, moving his head back a bit so he could look at her, his amber eyes gleaming in the sunlight, “Sorry. It’s really good to see you”

“Nothing to be sorry about”, she says almost immediately in response, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his temple, “I’m sure not complaining”

Felix grins in response, his eyes started to clock the jacket, which causes him to start laughing again, “Babe, is that my jacket?” “Don’t you mean, our jacket?”, she teases, pulling her shoulders back as in a way of showing it off without moving his arms from around her, “I’m pretty sure that’s a part of dating me”

In response, he moves closer, almost whispering in her ear, “Then it will be a part that I take wholeheartedly”, before he moves back with a wink, “And you also look way better than I do in it”

She laughs, giving him something akin to a smirk, “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re still hot as hell” He returns her smirk, leaning down to press just a peck of a kiss, already leaving her aching for more from the contact, as his hold tightens around her, “So are you”

They continued to stand looking at each other, the eye contact charged between them, it enough to send a jolt down her spine as she stared at the man who had been a constant source of happiness ever since Bravo had arrived those months ago.

“Well, we have a day to get started”, she interrupted after a moment, though she was mixed on saying something at all, “You’re more than free to lead the way”

With a grin, Felix moves to take her hand, his beaming smile indictive that this was role he was perfectly find with happening, starting to lead her inside with a sense of hurry to it.

All that Kiara could do was laugh and follow him, allowing herself to take in every single moment of this. Work would come eventually, and if something again happened like with the maa-alused or Sin, there would be even less time than before.

But for now, this was all that she wanted to think about, and be able to take the picture of and keep as a memory for later.

Just the two of them.

#The Wayhaven Chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #twc #kiara kingston #felix hauville #f hauville x detective #night-triumphantt #smalltowndetective writing other peoples detectives take 2

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grapecaseschoices · 3 days

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the fact that f is continuously slept on at such a large gap is truly nothing but racism

#like i cannot understand not being so enthralled by this adorable creature #i knew it. i knew f would love seeing the old pair #legit grinning from ear to ear #f hauville #felix x detective #grapecase plays book 4 demo #twc spoilers #twc book 4

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not-sewell · 3 years

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Not sure if you’ve answered this question before but.... what do you think UBs reaction to mc dying would be? And i dont mean them getting old and dying from that but like, on a mission perhaps👀

well i haven't and i honestly should’ve seen this coming but–

but okay, i’m looking at not the most immediate reactions but, say, the general emotional state that lingers on the most, a few months after the incident.

so let’s get to it, shall we? (also, thanks for asking! 💖)

TW: mentions of death and grief

N often finds themself staring at that photo of the two of them from the carnival, trying to squeeze out a little bit of the detective’s essence from the photograph before locking it away for another time. they can still hear their laugh from when the photograph was taken. it had the most beautiful ring to it. it had always lingered: their laugh. it does so even more after they’ve gone.

other members of Unit Bravo have found N sitting in the kitchen late into the night, on multiple occasions, listening to voicemails and audio notes sent by the detective. “just wanted to listen to the way they said my name,” they’d said once, finally. if they were being completely honest, they’d say it is because they wanted to hold onto the detective’s voice. listening to the voicemails and audio notes made them sound present. well. alive.

N also makes a trip to the florist’s to buy the detective’s favourite flowers every evening, which they would place on the detective's grave. some days, they also carry a small collection of the poems the detective enjoyed listening to N recite, for them to do just that.

N knows they’re grasping at straws, they always do. but they have also known that they would break themself to keep the detective. and so, they do.

A hasn’t visited the detective’s grave yet. they cannot. the sight of the grave will only make all of it more real than they could possibly handle.

A spends time reliving the day they lost everything, instead. the moments that led to the detective collapsing. they spend time mulling over how things went wrong; every quiet moment they find is occupied with the memories of the fight. the failed rescue mission. the way it claimed the life of the detective too. how they could have prevented that from happening. how they should have prevented that from happening. how they failed everyone: the Agency, Rebecca...the detective.

even now, they can feel their scream stuck in their throat, still fighting to come out. A doesn’t know, for sure, why they haven’t let it out yet; or is it that they don’t want to let it out? maybe they’re afraid of what they’ll let out with the scream. maybe they’re afraid they won’t ever regain their composure. maybe they’re afraid they’ll also lose whatever little of the detective that lives with them.

they know they must face it. they will. maybe someday they’ll find it in them to visit the detective’s grave. maybe they’ll fall to their knees and apologise. maybe let their unshed tears fall, finally. maybe they’ll forgive themself. someday.

F had never felt grief like this; like falling through a void: vast and endless, and empty and...stifling. they are left with such a storm of emotions but, funnily enough, they cannot feel anything anymore. the others try to help, they really do, but anything F does manage to feel is heavily muted by the loss they continue to experience.

the only time they felt anything was when the detective appeared in their dreams: calling out to them, reaching out to them, smiling at them, softly touching their face, placing insistent kisses all over their face. just as their heart soared with the promise of reunion, they lost the detective, leaving them in the lurch.

they always find the detective to lose them all over again. always. an endless loop. the gasps have ceased to escape from them. they don’t even cry anymore. they cannot. all they can do is stare at the ceiling, silently begging for a dreamless sleep the next time around. it never comes easy.

eventually, they begin to avoid sleep altogether. they cannot trust themself with it anymore. they don’t have it in them to go through it all again. F could never be the same again. grief changes you, after all. maybe they didn’t lose just the detective that fateful day. maybe somewhere, they lost themself.

M has not known peace. not since the incident. they barely remember flying into a rage after they saw the detective fall. they hadn’t even registered the screams and shrieks of the assailants until N wrapped their arms around them, gentle but firm -- more of an attempt to ground than restrain them. but what they do remember is the feeling all of it left in their chest.

perhaps there isn’t much remembering to do, for the feeling still exists: there exists in their chest an emptiness, a gaping hole that leaves their ears buzzing. a heaviness that tugs at them incessantly. the weight of absence and longing that they cannot carry.

they continue to simmer with anger. anger that they cannot placate. anger that they cannot let out. anger that will never find its rightful recipient anymore. they feel love. gods, so much of it. and nowhere to take it. so they carry simply it with them, the feeling of having loved. and lost.

and lose they did. everything.

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iristhemessenger · 3 years

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Say 'Cheese'! Thank you so much @javsarts for the absolutely gorgeous carnival selfie! (Featuring my detective, Eris Evergreen, and her beloved Felix Hauville!) And of course, Mr. Rainbow Squishms! (Eris and Felix have named him now, new hc lol) 💜🦄🌿

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #f hauville #f hauville loving hours #wayhaven detective #felix x detective #wayhaven felix #eris evergreen #eris x felix hauville #commission #fanart #carnival #book 2

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homeformyheart · 3 years

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by the fire - featuring felix hauville x detective harley bishop (they/she) from the wayhaven chronicles (by @seraphinitegames)

one of my favorite scenes in the F route is after meeting falk, when the detective is wandering the warehouse at night and comes across F staring into the fire contemplatively. we learn a little more about F’s backstory and this kiss (if you choose it) is one of my favorites of all the routes. and I know I wanted to commission @mooreaux for this and we both absolutely adore harley’s hair (I wish I could pull off a blue ombre like that).

“It’s so easy being around you, like you’ve always been here. Or more like you should have always been here.” HIs hands fall onto mine. “So don’t go anywhere, all right?” ... “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

*goes without saying, but do not repost or use any part for your own ocs/characters.

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javsarts · 3 years

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Just sketches of Adam with his family throughout 900 years

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #seraphinitegames #adam du mortain #nate sewell #felix hauville #agent mason #Adam x detective #twc detective #a du mortain #n sewell #f hauville #agent m #twc book 3 spoilers #my art

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lykegenia · 1 year

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Like Glitter And Gold Ch.10

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Characters/Pairings: Nate x f!Detective, Unit Bravo, Rebecca Warnings: Mild thalassophobia I guess?

Read on AO3

Back at the warehouse, Adam is still adamantly refusing to believe Russell was killed for anything other than being a selkie.

“It is still possible this was a Trapper kidnapping gone wrong,” he insists.

There’s a groan around the library as the rest of Unit Bravo, settled on various pieces of furniture for the debrief, voice their collective opinion.

“We’ve patrolled both nights and found nothing,” Mason growls, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

“Martin Johnston said there was only one attacker,” Leah adds. Of them all, she’s the only one out of place, keeping a careful distance from Nate. With the memory of their argument still a hot itch across the back of her neck, sitting in his embrace like nothing’s wrong grates on her nerves – but at the same time, she can’t sit elsewhere because it’ll only sting more, and worse, everyone else will clock the reason for the weird tension in the room. So instead, she sticks to a compromise: she paces.

Felix is watching her with worried eyes. “Leah has a point, oh glorious leader,” he points out. “Trappers swarm like rats.”

“It is looking more likely that Russell being a supernatural was incidental to his death.”

At that, even Rebecca siding against him, Adam straightens from his lean against the mantelpiece, ruffled like a cold pigeon. “So what’s the answer, then?”

“We’re still missing pieces.” Leah turns, paces in the other direction. “The text to Russell’s phone, the sunken treasure…”

“And now an affair between the victim and one of the suspects.”

“At least Walter Greene seems less likely now,” Rebecca offers. “It would have complicated things.”

Leah has to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep her retort at bay. Even in the little time she’s known about the supernatural, the Agency has taken care to craft an illusion of control, smashed apartments and rogue vampire killers bustled out of sight lest any of the messy edges be noticed. It’s hardly a surprise, considering Rebecca’s love of composure, of practicality.

The vampires tense, and she lets the thought go.

“Is there anything about this woman in that secret diary?” Mason asks after an awkward moment. “Her name surrounded by little love hearts, maybe?”

Nate carefully doesn’t look at Leah. “He mentions her, though not by name. He… he thought it was a soulmate bond.”

Instantly, the energy in the room shifts. Mason curses, Adam and Felix both go still, and even Rebecca’s hands curl into fists on her knees.

Completely at a loss, Leah chooses to focus on Unit Bravo’s leader. “What just happened?”

“A soulmate bond is… powerful.” It’s Rebecca who answers, suddenly hunched and brittle on the edge of the armchair she’s perched in. “It’s possible for two souls to find each other, and when they do they bind together. They don’t… complete each other necessarily – they’re whole on their own – but once the bond is made, a separation is… unpleasant.”

“You’re telling me soulmates are real?”

“Here we stand,” Adam points out, “and you’ve seen werewolves and fae.”

“Yeah, but…” Leah tears her gaze away from this new, unsettling vision of her mother. “You’re real, I’ve seen what you can do. You’re not some ephemeral concept that exists to sell Valentine’s Day cards. Besides,” she adds, pacing again, “are you sure? She said it was just a fling – she broke it off.”

“Could she have been lying?” Felix asks, anxious.

“She was lying about her husband not knowing about the affair, I’ll tell you that.” She shrugs. “Is it possible it was just a one-way thing?”

Nate is frowning at the carpet. “If their souls were bonded, they should both have felt it.”

“Sometimes there’s more than two in a bond, but never less,” Felix explains, then waves a hand as if the whole subject is an annoying fly he intends to swat away. “Enough about that. If you’ve finished reading that journal, Natey, do you know where the treasure is?”

Leah’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she turns away before she can hear his reply.

“Are you sitting down?” Tina asks on the other end of the line, before she can even manage a greeting. “You’re going to want to sit down.”

“Is this about the husband?” Behind her, four pairs of supernatural ears perk up.

“You bet it is. For starters, he has a record. Drunk and Disorderlies – four of them.”

She frowns. “I don’t remember arresting him.”

“Before our time.” Tina’s shrug is almost palpable. “Reele was the arresting officer. But that’s not important. The real kicker is that the text Russell got just before he died came from his phone.”

Leah goes still; she’s always found it strange how often one detail can suddenly shift the whole perspective on a case, the way lighting a face from a different angle can reveal a whole new identity.

“Do you want backup?” Tina asks.

She glances over her shoulder. Unit Bravo is already rising, waiting for her instructions, having clearly heard every word. “I think I’m good for backup.”

“Oh I see how it is,” comes the dry response. “Don’t need me anymore now you’ve got Unit Boyband to do your backing vocals, do you?”

“Tina…”

She knows they can hear her – she’s having far too much fun with it. There’s going to have to be a conversation about that.

“I’ll get the fanciest suite prepared for our guest in the meantime, shall I?” she asks, as a peace offering.

Leah nods. “Complete with bubble bath and pillow mints? I’ll call you when we’ve got him.”

She clicks off the call and can’t help a smile at the mix of incredulity and affront that faces her across the room.

“Unit Boyband?” Felix whines. “That’s not fair.”

“We do not provide ‘backing vocals’,” Adam adds in a peeved voice.

Mason grins. “I know some vocals that –”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Nate grinds out, covering his embarrassment with a hand.

“Will someone please explain what’s going on?”

Ignoring the heat in her own cheeks – because she absolutely knew where Mason’s comment was going – Leah turns to her mother. “Stanley Harris sent the text that led Russell into the ambush that killed him.”

Rebecca’s eyes widen. “The Agency will want to know. Excuse me.”

The others are still gathered around as she leaves, all eager for the chase.

“Are we all going?”

“If this man killed a supernatural, better safe than sorry,” Mason points out, having already tucked his cigarette back out of sight. He leads the way out of the library with Felix fast on his heels, all but bouncing at the prospect of a real, human arrest. Even Adam seems tenser than usual, though he spares a flat glance for Leah’s hopeful expression and tosses the SUV’s keys once in his palm.

Before she can retort, a gentle hand brushes against her wrist to halt her in the doorway.

“Leah…”

Her fingers curl around Nate’s, though she’s too much of a coward to look upwards into his face. “We have to go.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But once this is over… will we talk?”

“We haven’t really done that yet, have we?” She sighs, bites her lip. “Sometimes… trying to figure out what you –”

“I meant what I said at the carnival.”

He’s stepped close enough that to see him she’d have to tilt her head all the way back, expose her throat and the way her cheeks flame at the memory of the Ferris wheel. Of course, he can read her pulse regardless, and the bright flood of adrenaline through her veins, hear the slight catch in her breath as his fingertips reach up for the edge of her jaw.

“I still want to focus on the case,” she manages, though she sways forward. In between one heartbeat and the next, her eyes slip closed. “For now.”

“Of course.”

His hand falls away. The loss of his presence hits like a blast of icy air, but it gives her space enough to lead the way after the others before anyone comes looking.

“We’ll be questioning him at the Agency, not the station,” Adam announces as the sat nav tells them to take the final turn along the boatyard track. His knuckles are white enough on the steering wheel to suggest he’s expecting a fight, and there’s a flicker of a glance sideways to gauge Leah’s expression. “Regardless of whether Seakirk was killed because he was a selkie, the killer saw him without his Veil. We need to see how much he knows.”

“And then you’ll make it all go away, right?” A huff blows through her cheeks, her boot taps in the footwell. “Just like Murphy.”

With an uncomfortable cough, his hands readjust their perfect nine-and-three position on the steering wheel, while in the back seat the silence deepens at the reminder.

“It’s for the best,” Adam rallies. “There would be panic if people knew. We’ve seen it before.”

“I get it,” she snaps. “The intelligence of a crowd is the intelligence of its biggest idiot divided by the number of people in it – but I don’t have to like it. Just don’t break any Geneva Conventions where I can see you.”

It’s petulant to hunch down in the seat but she does it anyway, bearing the jolt of the suspension as the rough silhouettes of birch and pine flash past the window. Eventually the view opens out as the terrain switches from forest to scrubby lakeshore, and the track ends in the concrete facing of the guest car park. The chainlink gates are padlocked shut, the yard deserted.

“Well that doesn’t seem promising,” Felix comments, leaning through the gap between the front seats.

Adam lets out a rumble of agreement. “Nate?”

“On it.”

The flash of movement is too quick for Leah’s eyes to catch before there’s a ping of snapping metal and the grind of rusty hinges, with Nate stepping back to wave the SUV through. Even before it crunches to a halt on the gravel, Felix and Mason pile out and speed off to check the perimeter.

“There’s no one in the shed!” Nate calls a moment later.

“Not along the shore either,” Mason confirms.

“Something isn’t right,” Adam grumbles. A deep scowl creases his forehead as he joins the others on the foreshore, the green eyes beneath scanning for whatever must be out of place. As ever, the gulls jeer in the air above, their flight an effortless slice through the wind churning up the water beyond the little bay.

“Russell’s boat is missing,” Leah notices, and turns to Nate. “Isn’t that where it was moored?”

“It was.” He frowns. “You don’t think Stanley is –?”

“He must be after the treasure!” Felix cries.

“How would he even know where it is?” Mason scoffs, though he, too, is looking out over the water, one hand shading against the glare. “We’re the ones with the journal, aren’t we?”

“Nate?”

“The second-to-last entry says Russell found it,” comes the hesitant reply. “But I don’t see how… wait.” He jerks his head round to the shed. “The GPS readouts. Stanley must be tracing them back to the wreck site.”

Adam hummed. “You said there was diving equipment on board?”

Taking in the vastness of the lake, it’s not the salvage they need to worry about. The problem is the far shore, the craggy miles of coves and wooded inlets where someone on the run might drive a boat into hiding and then lose themselves in the endless stretch of hills beyond. Even with supernatural senses, Stanley might make it halfway across the country before they even found the start of his trail.

“Does anyone know how to drive a boat?” Leah asks.

“We don’t need a boat.” At her confused look, the corner of Adam’s mouth twists into his equivalent of a smirk. “We can catch him on foot.”

“How the…” Her gaze alights on Nate, hunched and shifting his weight, and it clicks. “You mean on the water? You can walk on water?”

Mason grins. “We can move fast enough not to sink.”

“Of course you can,” she says weakly. “Why not? That’s still only about the fifth weirdest revelation this week.”

A moment later there’s a commiserating pat on her back as Felix hands Nate a pair of binoculars from the SUV’s equipment store. Ahead, Adam pushes aside the security gate to the dock with the ease of a child crushing eggshells, before leading the way to the edge of the dock.

“Check comms,” he orders.

“I see the boat,” Nate says, his expression hidden behind the binoculars.

He points to a white speck bobbing in the distance, and an instant late both he and Leah are soaked by a plume of spray as the rest of Unit Bravo blink and take off like comets across the surface of the water. An instant later she has to grab at Nate’s arm as the ripples assail the pontoon and throw it upwards, slapping hollowly on the boards and against the hulls of the vessels moored closer to the shore.

“Are you alright?” he asks, as the waves subside into the fizz of innocent, foamy bubbles.

She takes in the tightness at the corners of his eyes, but nods. “Glad to see you kept your sea legs. Can you see what’s happening?”

“Yes,” he says, squinting through the binoculars again. “They’ve reached the boat. Adam is being his usual charming self.” A pause. “They’ve gone inside the cabin, I can’t see anymore.”

There’s noise coming over the comms though. A clatter and the smash of a lock; heavy footfalls. Someone yells, and then there’s a muffled thump, followed by the voice of their suspect, shrill and thick with fear.

“How did you get… You’re like him, aren’t you?”

“We have no desire to hurt you, Mr Harris.” Adam, low and even, probably with his palms spread wide, blocking the doorway with his huge frame as he waits for an opening.

“Stay back!”

“Mr Harris –”

“No! You can’t have it – I’ll shoot, I swear I will!”

Shit.

“He’s got a gun,” Leah hisses, turning to Nate.

His jaw clenches. “I should be over there.”

“No.” She touches his arm again, more gently this time, and turns his face towards her with the other hand. “Adding another person now won’t help.”

“But I –”

“It’s not your fault,” she interrupts, firm. “Let the others handle it.”

Her heart skips at the way he leans into her palm, how the line between his brows softens and the corner of his mouth lifts as he drinks her in. So many colours reflect in the wistful brown of his eyes.

“Uh, guys? Guys?”

Nate shakes himself and straightens, pushes the button to activate the comms. “We read you Felix.”

“You know we’re still in the middle of a case, right?” the younger vampire teases. “There’ll be plenty of time for longing gazes later.”

“We weren’t –” Nate bites off a sigh. “What’s the situation over there?”

“If you two lovebirds had been listening, you’d know everything’s under control. Mason found the controls for the submarine thingy – it’s already at the bottom.”

“Has he found anything?” Leah asks, far too quickly for nonchalance.

“Lots of mud,” Mason grunts. “Thought there’d be more fish.”

Nate licks his lips. “Is there any sign of the wreck? Can you see it?”

“Hang on –”

Felix’s voice drops away to an indistinct mutter, leaving silence in his wake until Leah’s pocket starts buzzing, the echo of the call clear over the audio. He waves when she swipes to accept the call, his grin bright in the dim light of the cabin.

“Thought I’d cut out the middleman,” he explains, before turning the camera towards a grainy image of the bottom of the lake. Some kind of frondy weed drifts in the foreground, but most of the screen is taken up by an expanse of illuminated grey-brown muck, and beyond the arc of the ROV’s lights, a halo of almost absolute dark.

As Leah tilts her phone to let Nate see, the view shifts, the undulations of the lakebed broken by smaller lumps of hazy matter that cast black shadows behind them. An eerie, expectant silence accompanies the drift of disturbed silt, and even exposed to a brusque wind and the cry of gulls above, it’s far too easy to imagine being down there, with the cold, crushing void, the weight of the water a prison with no escape. When Nate presses closer, his hand anchored to her waist, she slips her fingers between his and pulls his arm further around, eager for the barrier of his warmth.

“Wait, what’s that –” he starts. “Turn around.”

Obediently, the ROV swivels on the end of its tether.

“Go forward.”

Mason still hasn’t entirely figured out the controls. Some part of the sub hits the bottom hard enough to scare up a cloud of debris that blocks the camera, but as they wait for it to clear, breaths held, slowly the unnaturally straight edge of something coalesces out of the gloom.

“Is that a… crate?” Felix checks. “That’s not very exciting.”

Mason huffs. “People put things in crates, dummy.”

“I knew that.”

The crate’s size is hard to tell without anything to give it scale, but the wood it’s made from seems almost like new, solid, with only the thick layer of mud settled on top to show how long ago it was lost. As Mason carefully directs the ROV around to the other side, the torchlight reflects off the jagged edges of what must be another crate a little way away, this one fractured, its boards opened at harsh angles like the ribs of a carcass picked clean. Something glints where its guts should be.

“That looks like glass,” Leah murmurs.

“Not gold?” Felix checks. “Jewels?”

“Get closer,” Nate says.

Mason is behind the camera, but his eye roll is obvious. “Aye-aye, captain.”

A few fragments are scattered about, glittering like stars revealed by a rolling-back of cloud where the ROV has passed over the stillness of the lakebed, still sharp, and still recognisable.

“So much for sunken treasure, it’s just a load of old bottles,” Felix complains, as the broken neck of one comes into focus, the top still sealed with cork and wax.

But Nate is tense as a wire at Leah’s side. “People put things in bottles,” he says.

“Valuable things?”

“Look.”

Nestled in the bottom corner of the broken crate, another bottle rests on its side, the label faded but the smoky-dark glass is intact, spotless, sheltered even from the drift of time.

“What is it?” Leah asks, because Nate’s eyes have blown wide and his lips have parted in something akin to rapture.

“It’s whisky,” he manages, hoarse. “Century-old, perfectly preserved whisky. If that crate is intact, it’ll be worth… I don’t care to guess how much.”

Dazed, she turns back to the unremarkable image, the small fortune illuminated in the depths of the lake. For something with such an unremarkable appearance, it makes one hell of a motive.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #wayhaven fic #wayhaven fanfic #nate sewell #adam du mortain #felix hauville #agent mason #agent rebecca #nate sewell x f!detective #nate sewell x detective #detective leah kingston

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