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arteastica · 6 months

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early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (14)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 3.6k

“He absolutely despises me.” Hitch took a sip from the generously sized mug you had brought for her when she had appeared at your front door earlier that afternoon. She then pulled your favorite childhood blanket over her knees before proceeding to wear an amused expression that, much to your confusion, completely contradicted the story she was telling. “I would love to say such hate is unfounded but…”

“What did you do?” You eyed her suspiciously, the corners of your mouth already curving up in preparation for the inevitable burst of laughter that always followed your friend’s stories.

“Well, you need some context first. This man. He is a creep. And by creep, I mean his soldier is always standing. Even when it doesn’t have a reason to.”

“Quite alarming indeed. Especially if he’s your superior.” Your nose crinkled in disgust. You couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable it would be to work under someone like that.

“Right? And also for the sake of context, I feel you should know that he has a god complex. He even told some of the girls that he has royal blood and that, get this, was supposed to be a prince! Ha! As if!” She rolled her eyes in disbelief before continuing with her story. “Anyway, he’s always following the girls around like a dog, not me though, because in case I haven’t made it clear by now, he doesn’t like me. Luckily.” She raised a finger to emphasize. “And if you are a boy, or me for that matter, you can be damn sure that he will find the most unpleasant and annoying activity and immediately task you with it.” She smirked and her face reminded you of a high schooler who was about to brag about their grades. “He already disliked me before the night of the ball, but after it, oh I made it to the top of his list!”

You nodded, leaning forward, eager to listen to what was coming next. You knew you were about to get to the part of the story where the Hitch in her name was going to show.

“So, everybody who had been working that night was on the verge of a mental collapse and couldn’t wait to go home and have it in private. We were waiting for the last guests to leave and when they finally did I went to him, my superior, who was talking with a wealthy looking grandpa and, what I hope was his daughter, to inform him that all the guests had left.” Hitch decided to take a sip of her chocolate, and you couldn’t help but feel that it had been solely with the intent of creating anticipation, and not exactly because she was thirsty, but you had to admit it was working. “He saw I was exhausted, so naturally, like any good boss would, he told me I could go home…” She brought the mug to her lips again, but you widened your eyes at her, so she decided to complete her idea instead. “After I made sure the toilets were spotless.” You looked back at her with a pained expression that completely contrasted the proud grin that, for some reason, was crossing your friend’s face. “The stupid smirk he had on his stupid face told me he was expecting me to complain, but let me tell you, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Because instead, I accepted my fate with grace and walked away after leaving some equally graceful words behind: Yes, your hardness.”

You opened your mouth wide, stomach already tensing up in anticipation of the good laugh you were about to get, but before that, you needed to ask one more question. And, as if guessing what it would be, Hitch nodded. “Yes, the shape was clearly visible through his pants. You had to see his face. It was an unforgettable evening, indeed.”

A pleasant warmth filled your chest the same way your laughter filled the room. You looked at Hitch through teary eyes and realized how much you had missed your friend. You couldn’t complain about life back at the base, but you really craved moments like this, with her, moments that had been part of your night routine during the three full years you had spent as roommates.

After the laughter died down and you were able to speak again, you asked: “But like, how come you are still alive after that?”

“Well, as you may imagine, things would most definitely get terrible after such an incident. But I can’t confirm that, because I didn’t stay to find out. The next morning, I went to Commander Nile and begged him to transfer me to another unit.”

“And? Did he?”

“Yes, but I had to write like ten formal requests and practically get down on my knees before he even started to consider it. Because the thing about Commander Nile is that he is also insufferable, only that he does it in a different way.” As you listened to Hitch complain about her superiors, your heart started to take distracting leaps inside your chest, and you did your best to fight back the smile that threatened to spread across your face at the thought of your own boss and how good he was to you. He was good. So good.

“He’s moody and annoying, but at least he’s respectful, professional, and most importantly, isn’t trying to sleep with everyone. Oh my goodness. Not me complimenting Commander Nile.” She crinkled her nose in disgust. “Anyway, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s moody all the time, and permanently has the face of someone who hasn’t been able to poop in years. At first, I thought it was because he wasn’t getting any, but then!” She raised her voice, suddenly and unnecessarily, and in an equally dramatic fashion, raised both index fingers as if asking you to pay close attention. “The other day his wife walked into the headquarters, and imagine the way my jaw dropped to the literal pits of hell when I saw her.” You shuffled in your end of the couch, making yourself more comfortable. Other people’s business was your favorite literary genre. “Not only because Commander Nile pulled a one-eighty, completely transforming himself from insufferable boss to soft-eyed husband in a matter of seconds, but also because his wife is the complete opposite of him.” Her eyes widened, and even though you weren’t too fond of the annoying cliffhangers she deliberately sprinkled here and there in between sentences, you loved how expressive she was. It was all part of her incredible storyteller skills.

“What does she look like?” You sipped from your mug. The chocolate, nice and warm, and just as sweet as you liked it.

“A goddess. Gorgeous doesn’t even begin to describe her. Beautiful falls short. Stunning doesn’t do her justice.” She explained, very dramatically. “Okay maybe I’m exaggerating but she does look good. Lush strands of gold falling to her hips, swaying synchronously with them as she gracefully makes her way to wherever she has decided to charm with her presence next. It’s important for you to know that she doesn’t just walk, she makes her way gracefully.” You knew what she meant, you had come across that type of people before. The holders of the type of grace that couldn’t be learned, borrowed, or created from experience. And you suddenly remembered the title of a book the commander kept in his office: ‘Walking artwork. Talking poetry.’ The name had stuck with you for some reason, maybe you would borrow it from him one of these days. “Eyes bluer than the summer sky, porcelain skin that reminded me of that expensive doll I spent half my childhood begging my mom to buy for me.”

“Are you sure you aren’t in love with your boss’ wife?” You joked, as a part of you wondered what it would feel like to be so attractive and unforgettable that people would spend so many words attempting to describe your beauty.

“Actually, I’m not sure. Because on top of elegance and good looks, she also has manners and good personality. She smiled and greeted everyone she passed by. And it wasn’t one of those fake smiles you put on just to show your perfect teeth, you know. She’s genuinely charming, and most importantly, smells good.”

“You’re right. Smelling good is what it all comes down to in the end.” You agreed, smiling to yourself at the thought of a very distinctive, musky scent you had grown quite addicted to.

“I don’t understand how someone like her ended up marrying my boss. She could have married anyone she wanted. In fact…” She smirked in a way that successfully reminded you of good old classroom gossip. “Did you know she was this close to marrying your boss?”

You held the mug against your lips, fingers completely freezing around the warm ceramic, unresponsive hands forcing you to taste the liquid that had strangely turned bitter all of a sudden. Sour, even.

“Oh yeah, I heard it from my senior.” Hitch explained, completely misreading your reaction, wearing an amused expression, as she continued to provide gossip that, at any other point in your life, you would have found juicy. She had no way of knowing the silent commotion that piece of information was actually stirring inside you. “Apparently, they used to be close friends back in the day, all three of them. Both, your boss and mine, were completely smitten with her.” You realized your chocolate had gotten unpleasantly tepid as well. “But she ended up choosing mine instead. I wonder if she regrets her decision. Because I would sure as hell do. I mean look at your boss. He’s aging like fine wine, and then look at mine.” She made a face that, under any other circumstances, you would have found funny, maybe next time, when your heart stopped acting like a lemon, a very bitter one, being squeezed for lemonade, and your chocolate, like you hadn’t sweetened it yourself. “But maybe I’m biased, since it’s mandatory for everyone to hate their boss. You know, rule of thumb, law of nature, common sense. Which reminds me, how’s life working under the infamous Erwin Smith? Is he as insufferable as your average boss or worse?” She asked, bringing the mug to her lips.

“We slept together.”

“Sorry?” You didn’t know if she was double-checking because she didn’t believe her ears, or because she didn’t actually hear you, as you had purposely lowered your voice in fear your mother would catch this part of the conversation.

“I slept with the commander.”

“You fucked Erwin Smith?!” She shouted, effectively choking on the sip she had just taken.

“Yes, but please don’t announce it to everyone. I don’t want Mother to think that’s the only thing I’m doing there. Even though I wish it was.” You added, unable to stop your teeth from biting your bottom lip, as the rest of your body reminisced about that night.

“Okay but, I knew it!” She then said, now whispering.

“What do you mean you knew it?”

“I saw the way you look at him. At the ball. I instantly knew those eyes were looking for, you know, a little bedroom activity.” She glanced at the ceiling as if it was a cabinet filled with her memories, and the wood beams, files she was passing a finger over. “And then I saw you guys leaving together, and I thought to myself: there is no way he isn’t going to rip that dress off her later.”

“I really wanted him to. But nothing happened that night.”

“But then when did it happen? And how? And wait, how old is he anyway? Isn’t he like 15 years older than you?”

“Not that much. I mean, I don’t really know, but-”

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter. I’m just asking because, you know the difference in experience brings some very interesting topics to the table… like… tell me, was he any good? Goodness, that face says it all.” She leaned in closer, incredulity making her jaw hang slightly open, and curiosity, her eyes squint tightly.

“The commander’s performance was more than satisfying.” You said in a rather pretentious tone that matched the cheeky smile you were now wearing.

“thE cOmmAndEr’s pErFoRmAnCe wAs mOre thAn saTyiSfying.” Hitch threatened to throw your own pillow at you. “What the fuck does that even mean? I’ll need you to elaborate further, miss. I’m not going back home until you answer all my questions, and I have lots.”

“It means it was fucking perfect. He’s- He’s so-”

“Big?”

You nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“It wouldn’t make sense any other way, would it? After all, it takes massive balls to lead a suicide squad. And it takes a rough, unforgiving, sturdy, aggressive, and unbelievably tough man to carry them.” She concluded, lips curving up in a complicit smirk.

“But he’s, you know, so gentle. And warm. And I- I just-” You realized you didn’t know how the sentence was supposed to end. It was all so hazy and misty inside your head, but in a dazzling way. The haze was silky, hypnotizing even, and the mist smelled good. So good. It smelled like-

“Shit…”

“No! Wait, what?” Hitch’s sudden, and rather random, intervention cut through the haze, dissipating it.

“Do you love him?” She asked, now leaning backwards as if trying to gain a new perspective, fingers stroking her chin as if trying to come to a conclusion. She reminded you of a critic trying to decide what to think about a painting.

“What? I-” You realized the dazzling haze was now turning into a confusing fog.

“You love him.” Hitch’s words lacked the intonation of a question and the vacillation of a suggestion. They sounded like a conclusion. A confident one.

“Wait wait wait wait- That’s a big word. Isn’t it… isn’t it a little too early to be throwing it out there?” When the question left your mouth, you realized it had been directed more at you than at Hitch.

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t have much to work with, woman. You have barely provided me with any information. I literally have no context at all, other than he has a massive dick, and, apparently, knows how to use it.” You snorted, mostly out of courtesy to your friend. It was the type of laugh brains automatically play for the sake of avoiding awkwardness, when they are busy processing something else. “I can only tell you what I think based on what I see now, in front of me, sparkling in your eyes, seeping through that huge ass smile you’re wearing.” She gestured with her hand and tried to mirror your expression, as if to make you understand what she was seeing. “What I see escaping through the gaps left by the words you are purposely omitting from your sentences. The parts that, for whatever reason, you are not telling me.” You made a pained expression, starting to feel slightly under fire. “And based on all the aforementioned, I think it’s safe to say my friend is deep into her boss’ shit. Just as deep as he has been burying himself into her all these nights.”

You rolled your eyes. “It has only happened once.”

“All the more telling! It means it only took one taste of his dick to fall in love with him.”

“I didn’t even do that. It was not like… that, you know. I told you he was very sweet.” One thing was to think about it, but to reminisce out loud about him and all the things he had made you feel that night, came with a whole different set of sensations. You were sure your stomach would burst anytime now, simultaneously freeing all the butterflies along with all your secrets. The ones you seemed to be keeping, even from yourself.

Hitch sighed and glanced at the ceiling for the hundredth time that afternoon. It looked as if the more you spoke, the more you proved her point. “Sweet, gentle, warm… Woman, in my experience, when you start talking about a man and his dick like that, you’re already far gone.”

“Am I?” You tried to read yourself, but in doing so, discovered that there was a reason our eyes could see virtually anything but our own face. Before this conversation, it was attraction. You had never questioned the label you had attached to the feelings you had for the commander. But now, now the question was poking at you, and there was something that made you feel uncomfortable and uneasy about changing such label. It was the kind of anxiety you imagined would be felt when walking close to the edge of something, so close to falling, not knowing how high the fall would be, or how long it would last.

You heard a sigh coming out of your mouth. “Hitch. I honestly don’t know. What am I even expecting? Doing? What’s going to happen now?”

“Hey, hey, hey.” She lowered her head so she could be eye level with you, because yours was now staring down at your own lap, admitting some sort of defeat. “It’s okay if you don’t know what you’re feeling. Heck, it’s okay if you love him, as well, there’s no fault in that. He’s not married. Loving him is not punishable by law. And it’s not a mistake either.” She placed a reassuring hand on your knee. “You can’t control any of that shit anyway. It all just happens. Inside, you know. And, as for what’s going to happen? You just keep riding him like a stallion, and sucking him like a good old popsicle.”

You snorted, either your friend’s words or her warm, supportive hand lightening some of the tightness trapped inside your chest. “I haven’t done any of that yet.”

“Oh, I bet you must be counting down the days to go back to work then, unlike the rest of us who are not having heated, toe-curling desk sex with our boss.”

That’s what you thought you would spend the winter holidays doing: happily reminiscing about such heated toe-curling sex until you were able to have it again. But you should have known better than expecting that from your busy, overthinking mind. As you lied in your childhood bed that night, hours after Hitch had left, you tried to think about the commander, and whether he had enjoyed the little present you had prepared for him.

“I left something for you downstairs. It’s sweet and tangy. Can you guess what it is? Make sure to eat it while it’s still fresh. Happy holidays, Commander.” You remember smiling as you placed the small piece of paper beside the game of chess that have been left unfinished the previous night. You remember smiling as you tiptoed out of his room, stealing one last glance at his sleeping figure, before picking up your clothes and closing the door behind you.

But those warm memories must have frozen under the snowy winter night you were staring into, because instead, you found yourself reminiscing about the conversation from earlier. Did you love him? You decided you didn’t want to answer that now. You didn’t want to think about that now. Instead, you wanted to think about him. So you tried again.

What was he doing now? Probably sitting at his desk, working under the candle light. Had he eaten dinner? Probably not. It was so in character for him to skip it, to completely forget about it. If it wasn’t for you bringing it to his office, he would starve. Hitch would say you were acting like his wife. And for a moment you smiled at the thought. For a moment, until you felt a sudden sting in your chest.

So the Commander had been in love before. In love with Commander Nile’s wife. Even though it had probably been years since then, and you had no right to feel uncomfortable about his ex-lovers, you couldn’t help whatever emotions were trapped inside you from uncomfortably poking at your chest, demanding to be let out.

You couldn’t help your chest from stinging at the thought of him letting his hand get held by someone else’s, and his mind get filled with someone else’s smile, and his bed infused with someone else’s scent, and his heart cherished by someone else’s… love. You turned to the other side, and buried your face in your pillow, as if the cotton fibers could provide the oxygen your lungs needed. Did he get close to love with her? If so, how close? Did he miss her? How close had they been? How intimate had they gotten? Did he recall moments he spent with her? Did he sometimes write about them in those journals? In the journals, were there entries dedicated to her, to his feelings for her? Did he sometimes wonder what could’ve been? How badly had he hurt when she chose his friend instead? Was he still hurting?

You hated to be this type of person. But you couldn’t help it. It was all you knew. You pulled the covers all the way up to your chin, feeling colder than the back side of the pillow your face was still buried into. You wanted to fall asleep, either that or to go back to a point in time where this information was unknown to you. But there was something in the air. Something bitter and sour. And it was finding its way inside your lungs. Filling every inch of your body.

Why did you feel as if you had lost a race? As if you had come in second in a competition, a very important one. You didn’t want to know about all the women who had passed through his life, you didn’t want to because thinking about them made you ask a certain question you wanted to avoid answering: Were you also just passing through?

next chapter

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bowieandqueen11 · 10 months

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Being Scotty’s Best Friend Would Include...

Request: I'm so excited you brought up Star Trek! I was wondering if you could do some hcs for having Scotty as a best friend. I'm such a big fan of your writing. I hope you're having a great day!

Oh my gosh I’m always here for a little Scotty love and it’s been far too long since I wrote for Star Trek! Thank you darling :)

Warning: mentions of drinking alcohol, and mentions of injury/needles!

(I do not own Star Trek or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @whoophoney.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

I love my Scottish icon so much but since he takes on literally 100% of the stress for keeping this beautiful old ship afloat, he is on the brink of an exhaustion induced mental breakdown 24/7. Sometimes you have to go down to Sickbay and rope Bones into helping you; the look of panic on Scotty’s face when the two of you step out of the turbo lift and come literally sprinting towards him is something behold. With only minimal squirming, the two of you manage to rope yourselves around his arms and drag him down to his room just to get a few hours of bloody sleep. You stay, flopping down on his sofa because you know Scotty too well, and in two jiffs he’d be making a beeline straight for those sliding doors again. Bones even decides he can finish off his last bits of paperwork in the corridor, helping you keep watch.

You and Scotty manage to finally come to a halfway point: he’ll stay in his room, but only if he can curl up onto the settee next to you, and fall asleep with his chin smushed against the side of your face. He has a massive crick in his neck when he wakes up the next morning, stretching his arms out past your head while you shake a glob of his slobber off your shoulder, but it’s worth it to see how bouncy he is back down in engineering.

Sometimes when things are a bit slower on the Enterprise the two of you will have drinking competitions down in his office. Chekov happens to wander past one afternoon, and comes in laughing when he spots you desperately trying to hold back your laughter as Scotty wiggles his eyebrows on you. He nearly jumps out of his seat in a fit of giggles when you accidentally spray half of the whiskey in your mouth out over his uniform, but poor Chekov decides to wander over to your desk right then and gets most of it on the side of his face.

To be completely honest, the joy the two of you bring to each other is so infectious, that most of the Enterprise’s crew seem to gravitate towards the two of you at one time or another. One night, you and Scotty were sitting in a couple of desk chairs in the recreation room, nothing but the pearls of picked starlight whirling in the open expanse behind your head to keep you company in the dim room. The two of you are trying to speak over each other, gossip and idle chatter passing easily between the two of you as you unwind after a very long week down main engineering. It’s a very chill, warm, and comforting vibe that Jim walks in to: your legs are slung over Scotty’s lap as you nod at whatever topic his mind has jumped onto now, and he stops every so often to over you his whiskey bottle and steal it back once you’ve taken a sip. Jim likes to just sit in the same room as the two of you, because the constant stream of familiar chatter immediately drowns out and calms the storm of anxiety that brews up slowly in his head.

This man has an absolutely abysmal sense of humour, and you adore it. The ship could be in the middle of an intense attack, sweat dripping down both your faces as you make a run to the engine, trying to stop a couple of the blades from spinning off in a fiery blaze that would destroy half the cabins. Despite you literally hauling his ass through a small shaft, your grip on his legs tenuous at best as you try to dangle some equipment out from the loops of your belt, Scotty decides it’s the best time to try and crack terrible jokes to alleviate the tension. Well, he says ‘tension’, but to be completely honest he knows how afraid you are, and it breaks his heart to think that he could die without even trying to help you.

Well, he tries to crack jokes until the ship lurches sideways, and then you’re dangling from the railings around the engine while Scotty holds onto your shoulders ‘scooby doo’ style.

This man is seriously, genuinely, incredibly protective over you. He sees you as his sibling: the closest thing he has to family (before he gets close to the rest of the crew as well), and so if he finds Spock to be a little too... demeaning towards you, even though he doesn’t mean to be, he will 100% shove you behind his back. The incorrectly filled out paperwork Spock was trying to hand back to you flutters down to the floor, and Spock raises an eyebrow in measured surprise as Scotty’s fingers encircle your wrist. Then the pointer finger comes out wagging, his mouth goes off running, and you’re pretty sure you can hear him yell ‘go ahead, fire me! You bet your arse you won’t be able to find two better engineers in all the universe, laddie!’

Spock, frozen in place and confused with the interaction, just turns his head to you and offers an apology once Scotty finally cools down a little. Once he heads back to the bridge to recount what happened to an incredibly amused Jim, Scotty’s tight grip onto your wrist turns into a bone crushing hug. He mutters his own sincere apologies for letting that happen into the top of your head, hefting your feet off the floor and spinning you around, his face burning red as his chin bumps against your forehead.

He has this little check in he likes to do with you (well, mainly to check in, but also to tease you a little in the proper brotherly fashion.) You know you should probably run away when he starts slinking over to where you’re tinkering with your wrenches, with a sly smile on his face. He’ll come leaning against the wall beside you, running the back of his knuckles down the side of your face fondly, before gently slapping the side of your cheek a couple of times. You always do your best to try and poke him on the shoulder back, but that little bugger is fast as lightening as he ducks away from you and runs down towards the corridor. Sometimes Bones has wandered tiredly into one of the medical supply closets, nearly being knocked down onto his ass as you run past him with a little goblin grin and a big wave. He should have known rightly, as he opens the door, that Scotty would be hiding in here. Scotty, however, is incredibly surprised, and falls down from the pipe he’s hanging onto from the ceiling down onto a stack of shelves.

Bones just sighs and heaves him up, his tricorder already out and scanning his head as he leads him down to Sickbay. He knows to get on his comms immediately and notify you because: 1) the two of you have this kind of sixth sense where you know when the other is in trouble, so you’re already perched on the edge of Len’s desk, immediately yelling at Scotty before the two of them have hobbled through the door. And 2) Scotty, like Jim, absolutely does his best to escape Sickbay at all costs and it drives Len insane, so he needs your help to keep him in his biobed. Bones does his best to stitch up the gash in Scotty’s leg as you loop your arm around his left and haul him back down. Between muffled swears, Scotty trying to jerk you off, and you patting the beads of sweat away from his forehead gently to comfort him, Scotty begins to ease into it.

I feel like the two of you would be the type to try and tease Jim any chance you got. Say, if there’s some huge ballroom event held down at base that the crew all go to? You and Scotty are definitely on the dance floor, having a competition to see who can stand on the other’s feet the most, and waltzing terribly back and forth in front of poor Jim and whoever he’s currently trying to hold a conversation with. Eventually he just gives up, and the two of you are beat in your terrible dancing only by Jim and Spock, who he’s managed to coax to the edge of the floor and is currently just doing a slow box step in place around Jim’s arms lmao.

Sometimes you’ll head back to your quarters after a long shift to find Scotty’s bent over behind greeting you. Turns out, once he turns around in surprise with a sheepish grin, that he has spent his break fixing bits and bobs around your room. Eh, there’s a few concerning bolts scattered around your floor, and your shower now has an extra knob that you’re far too terrified to turn, but he’s so sweet bless his heart. He gets this massive, sunshine filled, proud grin on his face when you thank him for helping out, and comes clambering over towards you to engulf you in a bear hug. He has a hard time telling the people that he cares about that he loves him, so acts of devotion are definitely this man’s love language. He’s just trying to show you how much he cares in the only way he knows how, so please squeeze your arms around his waist and grip onto the broad expanse of his back, because it’s the best way for him to understand that you return the sentiment.

The two of you usually spend your shore leave together: either the two of you find a random, deserted planet and do your best to spend the time curled up asleep on the shore of a serene beach, or he takes you back to Glasgow to visit Fran since she loves you so much.

He pretends, fervently, that he’s not incredibly dependent on you being around, but bruh. If the plans ever need to change, or you receive a message on your communication device about an emergency situation back at Starfleet you’re being sent for, Scotty will act really mopey and upset for the rest of the trip because he truly misses your company so much.

#star trek #star trek imagine #scotty #montgomery scott #scotty imagine #montgomery scott imagine #scotty x reader #montgomery scott x reader #scotty headcanons #montgomery scott headcanons #star trek headcanons #star trek tos #star trek aos

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softlyapocalytpic · 1 year

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Fallout 4 Companion Backstory Headcanons

A list of headcanons just for context of my writing later on, and cuz it’s fun to share! This won’t be exhaustive by any means, but more just a fun something with some of my thoughts ✨. I’ll do the other games some other time after thinking on them, but mostly my thoughts are about Fallout 2 which no one ever talks about lmao

Preston

Somewhere between 24 - 27. He feels young still, but not young enough to FEEL young… y’know what I mean.

Can’t explain it, but for years he’s always lived by train tracks in my mind. Walking down them with a radio in a rucksack on his shoulder or something like that.

Grew up (at least until he was seventeen) with his Mom & Dad. Quiet life by a forest. (I’m just imagining Oberland Station aren’t I lmao). They die either when he’s around 13, 17, or shortly after he joins up with the Minutemen. Raiders. Whatever settlement/farm he grew up in is gone now in part because of death, and the other reason is people moving on to somewhere safer.

I kept trying to make him the eldest brother, but honestly I think he might just be an only child?? Definitely big brother’d the younger kids in the settlement, but had an older kid or family member who he looked up to at least for a little while.

I can just imagine that older sibling person becoming a Minuteman and Preston hears back from them sporadically in his childhood, or a squad coming through when he’s somewhere between 7 - 10 years old and having that typical hero worship moment when he looks up at them with those big ol’ eyes and gets his hat from them. Made up his mind then and there to join one day.

While his education wasn’t the most robust in the world, I think he was always looking out for brochures, books, pamphlets, anything with a little bit of history in it. He got most of it cheap because it was junk that wasn’t going to get sold otherwise, and he keeps all these different papers/clippings in old banged up cookie tin that takes with him everywhere. Lost it in Quincy, but eventually gets it back when the Minutemen reclaim it from the Gunners.

Piper

Not any older than 25, but she feels more like a 23 or 24 to me. Let’s go with 24. Feels like that if she lived in modern NYC she’d fit right in with the hustle culture and rooftop bars where you can see all the lights of the city.

She grew up on the Northern outskirts of the Commonwealth closer (but not right next) to a huge forest up there.

Her settlement had rickety ass walls that technically had walkways to patrol the entire perimeter, but like… holes everywhere. Animals get into all the time as well as attacks just generally messing it up.

She’d go on the walkways sometimes and stare off towards the horizon thinking about making it big and living in ✨Diamond City✨. It was always her dream to live there.

Mom died shortly after she gave birth to Nat, but her dad never made her feel his grief about it. Definitely got this mentality of putting on airs to seem more put together than you are from him, which she now does for Nat. Or tries to anyhow

Moved to Diamond at least five years ago. I could see the argument for like 2 or 3, but I like the idea of her coming to Diamond City as a very young adult after saving up a lot of caps to move with Nat.

Can be classified as a bisexual disaster, but I like to imagine her with a heavy preference towards women and femmes. I just want some sapphics alright.

I don’t remember her attitude on the Silver Shroud at the moment, but fuck if she seems like she ADORED the Mistress of Mystery and desperately want her to find out about the whole academy and everything. It sounds so up her alley!!!

Danse

Idk if it’s contentious or not, but Cutler was a real living person that Danse knew. Broadly speaking none of his memories are false because broadly speaking he lived them!!! Like, everything before living in Rivet City is implanted, but I love Danse the scrappy youngin with little meat on his bones alongside Cutler, and the two them joining the BoS together

But you may say, Astra! Synths body weight doesn’t change and they don’t age. I call bullshit!!! I tried to play in the framework as much as possible but it doesn’t make any sense to me that they wouldn’t age/change form & weight at least a little!!! Synths… aren’t machines. They’re fleshy computers with an extra piece installed to interface with them. If they eat a stupid amount of fancy lad snack cakes, or go through intense physical training, their body will change! Okay rant over.

Also, I could see why people might want him to have more false memories considering that him questioning his identity and the entire basis of it is… a pretty big deal to his character, but with the story he tells… why make that up? I don’t think he’s an Institute plant, and why would the RR do that to him? It doesn’t make sense. And like the idea that what he’s been through is real even if he doesn’t realize it for a while. He’s a real person with a real life- it just started a little differently.

I can’t decide on him being formerly a courser or not… I think I’ll go with no, but maybe he was considered for it. I think it’d be too much like Harkness if he was, but regardless two synths… right under Zimmerman’s nose. Yikes.

I think he was a fresh recruit during the time of the LW, and at least for my story he will be. Doesn’t think about the LW too much except when he sees the propaganda posters everywhere. Doesn’t get the hero worship everyone else has.

As for his physical age, I think most people would clock him at very late twenties or early thirties. (I think other Danse’s could be a little older, but for my purposes I like him hear.) He doesn’t know how old he is actually but has a round-a-bout idea of what he thinks he is. For BoS documentation reasons they list him as 29, but he feels older than that.

I like to imagine Danse looking up to Harkness a little bit when he was younger, modeling after him in some fashions.

Deacon

He’s somewhere in his mid to late 40’s, but at this point he doesn’t even know how old he actually is, though he has a good idea of the ballpark.

He did actually grow up at University Point, or at least near it, and he spent ages combing through the library and all the rotten wood so he could learn about the world. Was a real nerdy kid.

He grew up eating Mirelurk pretty regularly as a consequence of living near a nest of them. They would have to regularly hunt there in order to keep everyone safe, which meant getting creative with it!

After what Kellogg did to UP there’s almost no one left who can remember who he was before the Railroad. There might be some people who moved away before it was razed to the ground, or who might have gotten away with just their life, but Deacon hasn’t seen or met them around the wastes, so he’s them as dead.

This is kind of to my point with him: Deacon is liar, but he doesn’t intentionally lie about the big stuff. If any of this isn’t true it’s because he’s buried it deep in himself, or lord so many times, and so much time has passed that he’s reforged new details.

Yes, he’s never been to Greenland or been all the way over to the Mojave, but he had traveled a lot and heard countless stories! Always an element of truth to what he’s saying (but sometimes it takes a journey to get there).

Ah, and in case it’s not clear, Johnny D & Deacon are the same person! Deacon started as a Runner and then took the entire weight of the world on his shoulders, but he does genuinely kind’ve see Johnny D and those early versions of himself as a separate entity. He was different back then, and while he knows it was him it’s hard to internalize that it’s all the same story.

I’ve struggled a lot with my iteration of who I think Deacon is and what his backstory is! There’s a lot of different cool takes on his character, but I found that this is the iteration that feels most true to him for me. I love different versions of him! But this is my him.

MacCready

Same Lucy from his childhood. I know it’s not technically canon, but I think it’s better if they’re one and the same.

His parents are absolute no bodies. People who are either dead or ad good as dead. Never meets them again nor does he want to, but he did runaway to get away from them when he was six or five years old.

Caravan so a dying child on the ground and dropped him off at Little Lamplight. Would’ve died of dehydration if they hadn’t found him.

LW was his hero growing up and they were actually really close! As a byproduct of that he got to know some of the people around her, mainly Butch & Charon.

The BoS, a couple years after he left, cleared out Little Lamplight and took in most of them to become apart of the army. It was pretty brutal. There’s a lot of reasons he’s not a fan of them, but this ranks pretty high up there.

I think by the time we see him in Goodneighbor he’s been in the Commonwealth for at least a year if not a little more, and he’s been out of work for three of those months. Dropped off when he figured out they did shit like what they did to Quincy.

I forgot who, but someone said something about there being a bunch of different bounties on Deacon’s head and MacCready being the only one to realize it’s all the same guy. I feeeeeel like that’s probably true, but I also like the idea that they’ve run into each other a lot for a variety of reasons, and now Mac has started to put together an idea of how to spot him. Mac’s seen him in the Capitol Wasteland and all over the Commonwealth. Mac thinks he’s annoying and creepy, but the rapport (especially as time goes on) only gets better generally speaking.

Like I said this list isn’t exhaustive, and I might even add onto it with time, but it felt like something fun to publish while I work on other stuff! I don’t really feel as tho any of these are particularly groundbreaking or super original, but I think it’s usually about the execution than just the idea of what it could be.

#fallout 4 #piper wright #preston garvey #my writing #fallout 4 headcanons #paladin danse #robert maccready #fallout 4 deacon

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years

Note

I don’t know if you’ve done all of these before but for some of the other clergy lads in heat I imagine

Gallon just wouldn’t let you go and have you in him the whole time

Sybastian at the times he couldn’t fuck you would probably want to be a blanket or wrap of some kind so he could cover you (you ain’t leaving the house)

Belo would be even more clingy, following you everywhere with a light blush on his face constantly, wanting to touch you a lot (perhaps small touches like with his wing at least?) and will beg you to fuck him (more so in private)

Grimbly would be whiny and keeps begging to have you on him, will try and pull you to an area where you can if you can’t right then

I assume the three demon brothers would just be more attuned to their respective sins and would just be hornier

[I haven't, mostly because it would take a while and I have to organize a lot of things, but once I have more time, there will probably be something more detailed, yeah.]

Gallon in heat is just wrapped around you 24/7. You'll have to constantly swat and swipe his tendrils away, and I guarantee you he'll find a way to shove one inside somewhere at some point. He definitely wants his smaller little firecracker of a partner inside him during this time- Not only because you're tiny and weak in comparison to most other monsters, but also because it feels really good and he can keep the two of you stimulated for as long as he wants, until the slime gets exhausted and puddles somewhere.

Sybastian is a bit like Breg in the sense that he wants to make a nest somewhere as well, but he's nowhere near as vicious about it as the breeder. He has a lot more trouble maintaining the same shape for too long, so he might shape himself wrong. He still has the instinct to fool you, which is funny because he's very unsubtle in this state and will immediately tumble out of place if you tease him.

Belo's first heat is Hell on Earth and you're not prepared for it. He's going to demand he go everywhere with you because you need to be protected, but he's also got his chest puffed like a bird and his wings are always tense, his pupils are wayyyy too dilated and he constantly smells like sweat. He doesn't just beg to fuck you, he's so out of his mind, he'll hump you out of nowhere like a fucking animal. He'll do anything to cum, just let him touch you.

Grimbly turns into a fucking crybaby. Contrary to the others, he wants a nest done for him. If you don't catch on, he'll just take your bed. He feels really cold all the time and he wants you to cuddle whenever you're not fucking. In fact, he wants you on top every time. If you have to leave then he's going to throw a fit. You can carry him however, that calms the bat down a lot. He doesn't hunt enough during this time, keep an eye on his health.

Ludwig is very rough. In fact, he goes through the effort of filling claws down and putting away items he doesn't want to break during it. He's going to try to wrestle-fuck with you often, I suggest you tap out early to avoid physical damage, validate his strength, and get him to be gentler. He has brief stints of lucidity where he apologizes and tries to make the stress up to you. Try not to go outside too much or he'll eventually drag you back inside.

Mervin, while also becoming generally rougher, does his best to look presentable and demands you come to him, not the other way around. You can humor him and pretend he's on top of everything when he's really this close to begging. Orrr, you can let him explode with need and mount you indiscriminately. Praise and compliments will go a long way to make him take it easier on you. With the right words, you may even get him to tensely submit for a while. Wears your clothes, refuses to admit he's doing it because it makes him feel calmer.

With Obie, say goodbye to your groceries. Really, you'll bid farewell to a lot of things. In fact, he tells you to hide important stuff, because otherwise he might just eat it. He's consistently bringing you way too much food as well. Expect a lot of oral. When he's not hilted in you, he's cleaning you up and spending hours just licking away mindlessly. Might as well be glued to your genitals. Careful with the bites...

#Gallon oc #Obie oc #Mervin oc #Ludwig oc #Belo oc #Grimbly oc #Sybastian oc

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ccghastly · 1 year

Text

The Van der Linde Fellas as Hybrids

Arthur:

Some kinda Mastiff Dog.

He's big and playful, knows his own size and he's not afraid to use it, very family focused, will protect his pack if its the last thing he does.

His ears are a bit raggedy, his tail was cropped. Used to drool a lot as a pup and Hosea does not let him live it down, playing with Jack always makes his tail wag. Growls and grumbles a lot, but often doesn't mean anything by it.

John:

Raccoon

Greasy trash panda, stealing other peoples shinies and taking no responsibility.

Screeches at Arthur 24\7, will not admit to being chased up multiple trees by him when they were young. Has little caches of stuff absolutely everywhere. If you lose him, he's where he's not meant to be, look in the place you'd least like him to be first and there you will find him, very confused on how Hosea always finds him so fast.

Hosea:

Maine Coon

Blends into high society, hates strangers, likes being in the company of his family, an excellent hunter, very motherly towards his boys.

Spends his evenings before the camp's fire, bushing out his fur. Drags Arthur and John over to be groomed if they get too close, Arthur gets too close suspiciously often, John is suspiciously far away. Very charming, knows how to sway his tail just right to make people notice him, also knows how to blend in and appear like any other average domestic breed.

Dutch:

Says he's a raven but is actually a shiny cowbird.

Kinda detrimental to those around him but not maliciously, promiscuous with no set partner, offloads much of the physical work onto others, a conman that knows how to fit in.

Is very proud of his iridescent plumage, flirts and preens incessantly, flares his wings when trying to make a point and be dramatic. Once accidentally set his tail feathers on fire when preening too close to the campfire, pouted in his tent until they grew back and Hosea stopped laughing.

Bill:

Some kind of cat, I lean towards a Lion.

He's grumbly, likes a lot of naps, will pitch in if asked but leaves most of running around to his pride, a big boy, patrols his territory.

His mane is kinda scraggly and the gang does indeed make fun of him for it. If there's a sunbeam he's napping in it. Hates the cold. Loves snuggles and physical affection but will die before admitting it.

Sean:

Husky

Has a flair for the dramatic, loud, listens to no one unless it benefits him, enjoys 'singing'. When it's time to work, it's time to work. Can't focus unless he has a job to do, works well with others.

Tail wagging & tongue out 90% of the time. Constantly trying to tackle Arthur into play fights. Sheds like a mf and gets offended when called out about it.

Micah:

Vampire Finch

You know he's up to nothing good but you can't seem to stop him before he does damage. Picks away at people until they're too exhausted to fight back.

Enjoys eating his meat as bloody as he can get it, preens more than you'd think but his feathers are still constantly a bit ragged. Struts around camp with his feathers fluffed out to look bigger, loves to poke and pick at people then fly off when they retaliate. Constantly lands rudely close to hitting people. Will dive bomb you.

Charles:

Mustang

Protects his herd, can roam alone but prefers company, not afraid of hard work. Knows when to pick his battles. Quiet, but says a lot if you know how to read him.

Enjoys taking the time in the morning to carefully braid his mane. He's a big boy and is very conscious of that fact. Careful with every movement. When alone together will stealthily scritch Arthur's ears to watch his tail wag, does accept retaliatory scritches, mutual grooming is the ultimate act of friendship.

Javier:

Ornate hawk eagle

Flashy and fancy but gets the job done, strikes hard and fast.

Preens his wings a lot, hates when his feathers and crest get disorderly, says it feels wrong. Dutch has him fly up and scout the way. Coordinates outfits so they match his plumage.

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fatteningmenstories · 3 months

Text

Benched part 3

Devon was on the floor, what happened next was all a blur of events, from his leg not moving to the shooting pain in his foot it was all a blur , the paramedics rushing to him, to the ambulance and the operating table until now waking up in the hospital room.

Ajay was by his side- wearing clothes that fitted ten pounds ago, was the first thing he saw when he woke up.

“Thank God your finally awake’

Ajay said was he jumped up to hug Devon and give him a kiss on the lips, he smelled like donuts and tasted like chocolate

“You gave us quite a scare’

“What.. happened’

“Well let’s just say you faced a pretty big fall, you were basically unconscious on the floor, apparently your body was so exhausted it was on life support basically’

Getting up he faced a stinging pain in his chest and legs

“Oh and don’t try to move, u survived but you broke a couple of bones in the process not to mention you foot - it was like a 4 hour surgery trying to save it’

Startled with this news, he pulled of his sheets and low and behold there it was, his legs wrapped up in a white cast

“Doc says it should be good as new, but not for a couple of months - ha ha” he laughed hesistanlty

“God what am I gonna do’ Devon was panicking - football was his life, what would happen to him

“Don’t worry babe - come down, here have some chocolate’

“What!!!!”

“Well look around you have gift baskets galore’ taking in the room Ajay was right, gift baskets were everywhere - filled to the brim with get well soon cards and sweets

“There’s even more at home, I hope you don’t mind I’ve had a nibble hear and there” Ajay chuckled next to a nearly finished basket

‘Go on then”, the chocolate was good, tasted amazingly and at least it wasn’t in short supply - he laughed but stopped as the aching pain in his chest stung

“Anyways the doctor says you need your strength especially after your fall babe’

After signing the papers - and a lengthy discussion with his doctor encouraging him to keep his movements to a minimal, Devon was free to go.

The ride back was nice, Ajay by his side, he wasn’t expecting the press outside his front door, and in his temporary wheelchair he felt humiliated having to be carried arm in arm by Ajay and their chief. After a long phone call for his manger, it was settled that that Devon would be able return next season or as fast as his leg was healed- and his space on the field was legally not going anyway. Hanging up the phone call commenced the long haul of recovery.

“Babe I can’t eat that’

“Nonsense, doctor said you need all your strength, besides chief spent all day cooking it’

“Okay fine, but you gotta help”

“Was that even question”

The thoughts of the diet he needed to go on, had slowly faded with his new cast on, he had tried to cut back but with Ajay and chief it was like they wouldn’t take no as answer. Devon reasoned with himself, he would just have to extend his dirty bulk and have a massive cut once he was on his feet again. A small part of himself was very happy with tis conclusion, oh all this food tasted so great and a deep hunger in him needed to be satisfied, he had starved his body on kale salads for far too long.

So began the long process of recovery, its was a foodie bliss, breakfast lunch dinner and most importunely desert served straight to him 24/7. And it all tasted so good and rich finally he was seeing a price for all his hard work and it was in the from or food fit for kings. Anyways there was nothing else for Devon to do, he couldn’t leave the house in this state especially with the papz going crazy over him and his leg - he had even made the headlines for a good week all showing the prized footballer fallen form grace in crutches . He was asked for interviews and podcasts specials for weeks but he decided it was best to take this much needed time off and make the most of it. He had no obligations, he could spend all day catching up tv shows he had missed ,playing the backlog of video games and of course hot steamy sex with Ajay - who was more than happy to check charge with their handicapped partner. In fact Devon was enjoying laying back in bed and letting Ajay do all the hard work in fact he often helped himself to a wide assortment of snacks that was always in arm width not to mention the get well baskets that slowly dwindled in number. And speaking of food ,a massive plus to this new life was that he could finally eat with with no restraint - Not having to worry about training or meetings meant he could laze about all day and just pig out it was perfect, especially with Ajay by his side. And God did the pair of them eat, day in day out, it was the perfect activity as Devon stuffed his face, he felt so good, their always ate unit they couldn’t move and it wasn’t like Devon was doing much of that anyway - with his leg in the cast he would spend hours plopped down in areas of his massive townhouse. And as the months rolled passed he made sure to spend his money freely, buying Ajay all the designer clothes and jewellery he wanted, he loved to see Ajay try on all his new designer clothes and he loved it even more as he outgrew them right in front of his eye. Their chief was also basically free-reign, with Devon even moving them in to make sure their were never far he hadn’t eaten so good in years and he didn’t want it to stop . The biggest money eater of course was defiantly the food, all the finest foods and wines that money could buy was devoured day in and day out Devon and Ajay were properly eating better than royalty , especially with his dirty bulk excuse this was run so far into the ground he barley even thought about cutting back leaving him to ate with no abandonment.

After the months of never reigning in how much he was eating, his appetite explored, more pizzas more burgers more sides - more everything, chief even had to hire a side cook to keep up. Devon was being overtaken with hedonism the pleasure he got from food simply made him fro hunger for more, he was transforming form a man with a clean cut diet to one who was controlled by the gut and it was showing. Over the months it wasn’t only his appetite that grew up, his small starter gut ballooned into a a round bulging gut that demanded to be fed, and all that food it demanded was spreading itself all over his body, all over he was fattened up bulging out, his pecs puffed up into two rounded sagging lumps of fat, his once muscular arms plumped up and were now starting to squeeze outwards due to the massive amount go fat packed onto his torso. And to compensate for this massive rotund gut his thighs swelled up to match - Devon had long forgotten about pants and had resorted to lazing naked nowadays allowing his thighs to fill out as much as possible, with his once muscular butt taken the worst of it, once firm and square it was plumped up and filled with fat expanding out in all direction , and form lazing about all day the muscles he worked so hard at the gym, slowly faded away and were buried in fat all over Devon was undoubtedly fat. And the worst culprit was surely he was once gorgeous face, all that food of course fattened his face, his cheeks had rounded out and now merged with the band of fat that was nestled under is chin, given him a rounded out face that matched his rounded out body. His killer good looks remained but they were fighting a losing battle with the fat

Devon’s and Ajay’s months of bliss was soon coming to the end as after a good 6 months the Doctor finally deemed it fit that Devon was free of hi caste

“Now Devon, given your noticeably changes I’m sure moving about will be a lot harder and your leg will need to adapt to all the extra weight your putting on it’

“Oh all this’ Devon chuckled as he smaked his gut, even he was bit taken back with how soft it was,’Just a dirty bulk- it will come right off”

“Sure”, the doctor responded not sounding very confident’ Anyways I’ve signed you up with the best physio in town we will have back in uhm.. fighting shape any day

let me know on the comments how you want the story to go

#exjock #male gainer #male weight gain #gainer stories #fat

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vickyvicarious · 2 years

Text

I think it's interesting how little the captain says beyond the necessary. It is his log, and is in large part a professional record, so it makes sense, but it means you have to pay a little bit closer attention to realize just how bad things are. He starts his journey on 6 July with only 9 people on board:

Crew, five hands ... two mates, cook, and myself (captain)

Ten days later, after rising tensions and even violence, one man disappears. Down to 8.

Then, on July 24, another man gone. That's 7 people left, and it's been eight days this time. They're concerned about heading into bad weather; now they're down 20% of their people to help sail the ship (more, if you discount the cook), and the remaining crew want to keep double watch meaning each person will have less time to rest. This puts new context to the entry on July 28 - "four days of hell" indeed, they're exhausted and miserable and for good reason.

Now it's July 29, and the second mate is gone. That's down to 6 people: three hands, one mate, one cook, one captain. It also took only five days this time. The space between attacks is getting shorter and shorter, and they have nothing they can do about it.

They keep getting attacked every time they get some sort of rest from the storms, so being more brutally attacked as soon as they begin to see relief in England reachable fits the pattern. Except it's July 30. They've jumped from five days to one, and two people were killed, which means even their exhausting buddy system is no use to keep themselves safe. They are down to "self and mate and two hands left to work ship" (I guess one of the men killed on watch one of the times was the cook, which might mean they have been eating substandard food for a while as well, potentially).

Keeping in mind the number of people makes the interpersonal tensions much more important, and explains why the captain may initally be very careful to try and appease their fears. He only has a few people, and his command structure is limited to him and two others - one of whom gets angry and makes things worse, and one of whom is killed too, midway through the trip. And of course the fear that they won't be able to properly man the ship, especially when they're scared and don't want to man watch alone, makes more sense. The two-man watch means they feel safer initially, but also have less time to rest.

But it also brings to mind just how terrifying this must be, and how much the captain must be restraining himself, trying to sound calm and informative, trying to hold back his fears. I personally am used to thinking of a cargo ship as having more crew, and he only mentioned it the once before now, so I had to actually sit down and look at the numbers to get the full extent of how awful this is for them.

#dracula daily

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lacontroller1991 · 1 year

Text

Happy Birthday, Mr. President (Will Conway x F!Reader)

Main Master List Misc Master List

Author’s Note: THIS IS DEDICATED TO ONE OF MY FAVORITE ACTORS EVER AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND IT’S HIS BIRTHDAY TODAY SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ENJOY

Warnings: 18+, stripping, sexual dialogue

==========

Will sighs as he sits down for what seems to be the first time that day as he loosens his tie until it hangs loosely around his neck. He knew he would be expected to work 24/7 when he became president, but he didn’t realize how 24/7 it would be. Letting his head fall back against the seat, he spreads his legs open and lets his eyes shut, exhaustion taking its toll. Ok, maybe it’s a little too dark. Will opens his eyes and notes that the lamp that was previously beside him was flicked off. Odd. I’ll have to get housekeeping on that, he thinks to himself as he shuts his eyes again, but the soft click of your heels stirs him from unconsciousness.

“Happy Birthday, to you.” You flick the light on, illuminating your figure in a form fitting dress, accentuating all your curves “Happy Birthday, to you.” You reach behind you as you take a step closer to your husband and unzip your dress, letting the velvet material fall to a pool at your heels. Slowly, you step out of the pile as you take another step closer to your husband, who has a look of confusion on his face. “Happy Birthday, Mr. President.” Your legs fall to either side of his hips as your hands run through his once perfect slicked back hair, messing with the strands until it moves cohesively between your fingers, lightly massaging his scalp causing his eyes to close briefly, savoring the feeling. “Happy Birthday to you, my love.” Conway’s eyes open in confusion as he looks up at you. The light illuminates a halo around your head.

“It’s not my birthday baby.” You raise an eyebrow and pull his phone out from his pocket and turn the screen towards him, showing him that it is in fact, his birthday.

“I don’t blame you for forgetting, you’ve been really busy, Mr. President.” A smirk forms on Will’s lips as his hands rest on your hips, his thumbs rubbing your skin in circles, dick rapidly hardening beneath his slacks.

“What did I ever do to deserve such a loving wife?” You raise a finger to your lips and look to the side, acting like you were thinking before pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Pretty sure you booked out an entire planetarium just for me to watch a meteor shower.” Conway presses a kiss to the top of your breast as you let out a sigh of content. “So, are you gonna unwrap your birthday present?” Will chuckles before standing up, keeping you securely around his waist as he carries you into the presidential suite before laying you down and climbing on top of you, his hands pulling at the ribbons that hold your top to your body.

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“I want you to do whatever you want to do. It’s your birthday, my love.” He brings your hand to his lips, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your wedding ring, lips grazing the knuckle above.

“Honey, if I could do everything I want to do to you, then who would be left to run the country while I take you again and again?”

“Pretty sure they could figure something out for one day.”

“I’m going to need more than just one day.” He wiggles his eyebrows as you roll your eyes at your husband but can’t help but to blush at his insinuations.

“Well then, President Conway. You better get started.”

“Yes ma’am.”

==========

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEL <3<3<3<3

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pi-cat000 · 1 year

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MSA time travel idea (part 44)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5, Lewis POV 7 Vivi POV 6 Vivi POV 7 42 43

Part 45 here?

...

When Arthur blinks back awake his head is heavy like it has been filled with cotton and there is a persistent throbbing soreness to his shoulder. Out of habit, he checks his arm. It is still his arm and still attached to his shoulder. The dull pain is from a shotgun wound and not a recent amputation. After several years of arm-related pains and aches, it is a familiar enough sensation. Easily ignored. Best to just go back to sleep and let the world fade away. Everything is better when he is not awake to feel the press of guilt weighing on his throughs. Fittingly, it is this same guilt that drags him into a more coherent state.

He can’t drift back to sleep yet.

What right does he have to sleep when his Uncle and Lewis might never wake up? For all he knew his last conversation with Vivi had been a hallucination conjured by his exhausted brain and his Uncle was dead and Lewis possessed.

He shifts his attention to the room, immediately spying Vivi sitting at his bedside. The room is quiet enough that he can hear her finger tapping aggressively across her phone. She is hunched under Lewis’s oversized jacket, reading something on her phone, her brow creased into a scowl. The dirt on her face is gone and her shirt is a lighter shade of blue so enough time has passed for Vivi to leave the hospital, get changed, and come back.

He clears his throat to catch her attention, watching how a faint smile tugs at the corners of Vivi’s mouth when their eyes meet. Like she is happy to see him or something.

“Are Lew…” he immediately breaks into a coughing fit before fumbling for the half-full cup at his bedside, shrugging away Vivi’s attempt at helping and gulping the water down.

He clears his throat again.

“Lewis and Uncle Lance? Are they…” alive?

Vivi’s smile falls away, settling into a more neutral line of worry.

“Lance is still in intensive care, but only because he needs a ventilator. The nurse in his ward says he’ll be moved out today as long as there is no further complications with his injuries. As for Lewis’s situation…” She breaths out, face crumpling ever so briefly, “there’s been no change. He’s still in a coma…”

“Do you think I can see them?” Maybe it’s dumb but Arthur wants to confirm with his own eyes that they are both alive. He attempts to wiggle upright and finds it difficult from his prone position.

“I can’t see why not. They’re in different parts of the hospital so it’s a bit of a walk.” Vivi looks him over, gaze critical. Pain spikes in his chest and he fumbles for the bed’s remote knocking over the now empty cup, so it tumbles to the ground.

“…we should ask a nurse first,” she amends, catching the remote before he can knock it off the table as well. She offers it to him, and gives a shaky smile. He tries to return the gesture but the expression feels wrong...disconcerting…He lets his eyes drop to focus on the remote, selecting the setting that would raise him into a more upright position.

Vivi’s hand rests against his shoulder, drawing his eyes back to her.

“Just take it easy Arthur. I checked in on Lance not even an hour ago and Nicholas and Maria are with Lewis almost around the clock. They’ll let me know if things change.” She holds up her phone which is lit up with several message notifications, none were from Lewis's parents.

“Right…” Arthur lets himself relax back onto the bed with a weary exhale. “Okay…”

He doesn’t have the energy to make a fuss or press for more. Not with Vivi looking so upset. Arthur doesn’t think-not even in his own timeline- he has ever seen Vivi look so unhappy. But of course, in his timeline, Vivi had complexly forgotten Lewis and it was hard to be sad about something you couldn’t remember.

Their conversation fizzles out and Arthur lets himself fall back onto the bed in favour of staring at the ceiling.

Remembering was better. It had to be better. Right?

Lewis wasn’t in the clear yet. If Lewis died then…then maybe forgetting was better. The ugly thought twists in his chest. Lewis’s disappearance had been the source of so much going wrong in his life. Would he have been better off completely forgetting as well?

“….” Vivi clears her throat and he twitches. Awkwardly, he shifts his attention back to her, realising he was still staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.

“I’ll go ask a nurse and see if we can visit Uncle Lance,” Vivi says, saving him from what would surely have been a clumsy attempt at reassurance.

“Just wait a second… I’ll be right back.”

Not like he could go anywhere. He has nowhere to go.

When Vivi returns she is accompanied by a harried-looking nurse who, despite not appearing pleased, helps Arthur into a wheelchair, impressing upon him the importance of not making an extraneous movement.

Arthur half follows along with the instructions. This isn’t his first time in the hospital with a serious injury. Everything is very familiar including Vivi pulling out her phone to take notes, nodding seriously. Deja vu. He is really starting to hate the feeling.

“…and please stay on hospital grounds.” The nurse finishes after which Vivi asks a few more questions which Arthur doesn’t pay attention to. The energy needed for him to move from his bed into the chair has left him exhausted.

“Arthur. I’m going to push you now. Let me know if anything hurts or if I’m going too fast or something.” Vivi leans over him, filling his field of view.

He takes a long, tired breath. “Sure…”

Vivi bites at her bottom lip, obviously worried. He tries once again to muster up a smile and give her some indication that he appreciates her efforts. Even if said efforts were undeserved.

All he can manage is a grimace.

…..

Lance is alive.

He had known Lance was alive. Why would Vivi lie about that? Seeing that his Uncle was alive in person makes it real.

Arthur leans as far forward as he can while confined to the wheelchair, attempting to see as much of the man as possible. From this low angle, he can see the profile of his uncle’s face and not much else. Despite it being eerily pale his chest is rising and falling in slow rhythmic patterns. There is a heart monitor counting out steady beats. The beeping is loud enough that it thankfully drowns out the soft tick-tick of the clock on the wall. This wasn’t the room Lance had almost died in but it looks similar enough that makes his skin itch. He focuses on the beep beep of the monitor and the soft breaths of his Uncle instead.

Some small, fractured shard in his chest loosens. The demon had failed. Maybe his cursed luck had rubbed off on it while it occupied Arthur’s body. Maybe Arthur’s unique ability to screw everything up had been passed onto the demon.

Sharing is caring.

He glances away from his Uncle’s chest and up at Vivi who is sitting in the room’s visitor's chair.

She is still chewing at her bottom lip, watching Lance. When she notices him watching, she turns, looking like she wants to ask a question. An uncomfortable question going by her hesitation. There is no shortage of possible topics. Arthur has barely explained anything.

She doesn’t ask her question and Arthur turns back to his Uncle. They both sit in unbroken silence.

…

The hallway between his and his Uncle's rooms has large windows with a view onto a half-paved, half-gravel courtyard. The open-air courtyard separates the hospital’s two main buildings and access to the adjacent research centre. Arthur can't help but let his eyes be drawn to the space. The sun outside is directly overhead, meaning everything is blindingly bright, making the hospital’s interior dim by comparison. Benches and tables are clustered around two sprawling trees at its centre. All were occupied by groups of off-duty doctors, nurses, and researchers. Nobody wanted to sit on the benches placed along the perimeter and under the hash midday sun.

Vivi follows his gaze. “Do you want to go outside?”

Arthur shrugs.

....

They end up sitting on the bench closest to the building entrance, barely shaded in the lea of the hospital. Well, Vivi sits on the beach. Arthur sits in his wheelchair next to her. It doesn’t take long for the sun to beat some warmth into him.

Deja vu all over again. He and Vivi had spent several afternoons sitting in this courtyard, talking themselves in circles trying to figure out what had happened in the Cave. He remembers accidentally trigging one of Vivi’s more severe blackouts on this exact bench trying to get her to remember Lewis. Months later, when Arthur started working on his prosthetic arm at the research centre, Vivi would visit on her lunch breaks and they would eat out here together. He doesn’t know why the memory makes his throat tight.

“It’s a bit hot out,” Vivi comments awkwardly, tugging off Lewis’ jacket to rest across her lap. She eyes him, tilting her head to the side.

“It's nice I guess…the hospital is too cold…” she continues after a beat.

“This place could do with more trees though.” She eyes the space and squints at the sun critically. “There’s not enough shade out here.”

“Yeah…” he agrees in lieu of anything substantial to say. The statement rings familiar. Vivi had complained about the lack of shade in the courtyard back then as well.

He lets out a weary breath, “So…” He might as well do this now while he has some iota of energy. Once he was back in his bed this would be almost impossible.

“So?” Vivi repeats.

“So…do you want to talk about it.”

“It?”

He hesitates, “You want to ask questions, right?” Obviously, she has questions he has barely told her jack, his own mind mocks him.

“That obvious huh?”

“A little …” he winces which has Vivi looking concerned again, “I know when you’ve got something on your mind.”

“I’m just worried.” She gestures at the hospital buildings around them. “about you and Lewis and everything else. It’s…it’s a lot to process.”

“In the future…” He starts, “In my timeline, I lost my arm like Lewis.” It feels like a cruel joke explaining it but, if the information helps, then little discomfort was worth it.

“It happened just after Lewis…ah…” he swallows, deciding that mentioning Lewis’s death probably wasn’t a great idea if his goal was to make Vivi feel better.

He starts again, “The old mines-the cave where I lost my arm- there was no cell reception out there, not up in mountains. Vivi, my Vivi, had to drive me to the main road so I probably lost just as much if not more blood. It took a few days, but I still woke up abet missing a few key memories. Hopefully, it’ll be the same for Lewis…i mean he’s a lot bigger than me...more blood?”

Shiny blue eyes meet his, unsure, conflicted.

“Lewis should wake up,” he clarifies, “hopefully not missing any important memories. The missing memory thing kind of sucked…a lot…” He tails off lamely, swallowing again to help with his dry throat. Understatement of the century. What if Lewis ended up with memory problems like Vivi? God, if Lewis forgets anyone let it be him and not Vivi. Please don’t let Lewis forget Vivi. Unease sits about him like a well-worn coat.

Vivi sighs, “I…” She shifts to sit a little straighter like she was physically pushing aside their combined gloom, “yeah…I hope so too.”

Arthur grimaces. He had always been terrible at cheering Vivi up. “You can ask more questions. I…I’ll answer them now.”

“I do have a few,” Vivi agrees, and lets a long, frustrated breath, “Okay…I have more than a few questions.” Another pause. “Actually, I have nothing but questions really.” Her open mouth clicks shut and he finds himself the subject of a scrutinising stare. She is scanning his face for something…he doesn’t know what.

“I promise I will answer?” He tries to inject some enthusiasm into the statement, but his voice sounds just as thin and tired as he feels. Vivi’s stare turns troubled.

“I mean…” Arthur starts again, “I’ll tell the truth. I did promise I would."

“That’s not….” Vivi interrupts and frowns. She takes a breath, “I don’t want people lying to me and that includes lies of omission. But look, just rest, get better, and tell me when you’re ready. I know about time travel and the body snatcher. I have Mystery to answer the more general questions now he's actually telling me stuff. You just focus on recovery.”

She nods to herself and sits back on the bench satisfied.

“I’m fine,” he reassures. “Just ask away…hmm…some of it isn’t very pleasant but I’m fine.” If he repeats it enough times maybe it would come true as if that strategy had ever worked for him.

“...” Vivi raises a brow, giving him one of her ‘do you seriously think I’ll believe that’ looks.

“I am fine.” He defends.

Vivi huffs, crossing her arms, “I thought you said you’d be telling the truth.”

Arthur grimaces, “That’s not fair. I’m fine enough for this.”

“You’re really not.”

“I mean…aside from the bullet wound I’m fine. Just ask me anything.” And now he just sounds desperate. Great. Why does Vivi pick this to be adamant about?

Vivi just scans him again, silent, scrutinising, like she is trying to decide what question to ask. It is a familiar expression.

“Arthur. Are we friends?”

Arthur blinks. “What?” Not the question he had expected.

“In the future are we friends?”

“Yes. Of course, we are, were, friends. You've always been my best friend,”

“I’m still your friend, right?”

“Ah…” Arthur hesitates because…because he doesn’t know what to say. Were they friends? Did Vivi still want to be friends? Why, after all his lying and the trouble he caused, would she still want to be friends? His hesitation does him no favours because Vivi is now a mix of indignant and worried.

“Maybe?” He answers. Vivi’s whole forehead lifts in disbelief.

“I mean…Yes?” He tries again.

“Then stop acting like we’re not,” Vivi bites, anger colouring her voice before she takes a calming breath and confirms, “We’re friends.”

She uncrosses her arms, turning so she can give the side of this wheelchair a light tap, “and as your friend, I want you to take it easy. If you’re set on telling me everything, then we can do it later. There will be time for explanations and questions. I’m not going anywhere.”

Oh no. He was not waiting for later. If he didn’t say something now he’d never have the courage to say it. It was now or never.

“The other Arthur, the one original Arthur from this timeline, he wanted to go on the supernatural-themed road trip originally, before I came back and replaced him.” He begins, ignoring Vivi's attempt at interrupting.

“We painted the van and put on that Mystery Skull logo like you always wanted. It even turned out looking pretty cool. Technically I didn’t lie about being afraid of supernatural stuff. Everything bad in our lives started on that road trip and none of it was normal or explainable. I didn’t want you and Lewis to get hurt.”

Arthur scrambles to reorder the sorry saga into something that was somewhat chronological, trying to separate the two timelines out in his head so he could cover any major differences. He could skip the majority of the road trip. He barely remembered enough of the good parts to recap them anyway.

“The road trip ended with Lewis disappearing you see, and I didn’t want a repeat of that. It didn’t work. You both got hurt anyway. Sorry.” He mutters the last bit like saying sorry made any difference.

“Arthur…” Vivi tries to interrupt again but Arthur pushes on.

“We solved mysteries, saw way too many lame roadside attractions, went to every haunted diner between here and California and no one got food poisoning … It was a good road trip. Your…ah…your itinerary was spot on.”

Vivi’s expression is now pinched, pained. He gives a weak almost-smile which Vivi doesn’t return. He quickly looks away, staring at his lap, mouth dry.

He swallows and chokes out, “Then there was the Demon. The Cave. No more arm. No more Lewis. Haha.” Even to his own ears his laugh sound hollow. His chest hurts and he takes a shuddering breath.

“I didn’t remember Lewis dying. Not at first. Not for a long while. Traumatic amnesia will do that apparently.”

Too much of a coward…locking away the memories of his role in Lewis’s death. If not for the demon, who knows if he would have ever remembered?

“Everyone tried to tell me Lewis was gone, but I didn’t listen. Guess I just didn’t want to believe it. To me, it was like he had just vanished. Poof. I always knew something was off about it. Something more to the story than Lewis getting lost in a cave and...and succumbing to exposure somewhere where none of the search parties could find him…I was only partially right."

He blinks rapidly to clear incoming tears. With no demon to dull this physical response, it feels like he reliving that moment of realisation all over again. The grief feels like a lead brick sitting in his chest.

“and Vivi got hit with some memory curse. The memory curse was our running theory because it targeted her memories of Lewis specifically. She forget him, everything about him and most things associated with him. It was too specific to be anything normal. It had to be a curse because a curse was better than brain damage or anomalous, medically inexplicable, memory loss triggered by a traumatic event. At least a curse might have been curable. No one believed us.”

And why would they have believed him? Arthur had barely believed it himself.

“It was bad in the beginning when no one knew what was wrong. We would mention Lewis’s name and you would just not register it or check out like a real-life blue screen. You barely recognised his parents. Anything that reminded you of him kind of zonked you out. After we discovered what was triggering it…” he swallows the familiar old sting of helpless frustration ignites, adding to his grief, “At least we knew what to avoid talking about."

“Once I recovered enough from losing my arm we went searching... ” He chokes out and stops talking because he physically can’t continue.

A glance at Vivi shows that she is understandably upset, her face slightly paler despite the sun's heat.

“I’m guessing convincing me to search for a person I didn’t remember wasn’t easy,” She mumbles and her voice also sounds wobbly like she’s trying to not cry.

He quickly looks away, sniffing back tears and pushing on, “You do like to ask questions and know things. I used to say we were searching for your memories…it was close enough to the truth. I thought that maybe, if we found Lewis, the memories would all come back. I was kind of desperate.”

It had always been a farfetched goal. The kind of goal that sprung from desperate hope. Hope so painful it kept him awake at night on the rare occasions the nightmares didn’t. Hope that he would carefully tuck away in the morning to prevent Vivi from catching on to the fact that something was terribly wrong.

It feels oddly freeing to voice this to Vivi now. He had clung to the belief that finding Lewis would break some mysterious curse and return all Vivi’s missing memories for so long that he had grown afraid that any points to the contrary would cause his motivation to crumble. It had always been a point of tension between him and Vivi. He wishes he could have explained it back then. Back when it mattered.

“Was saving Lewis the reason you came back?”

Arthur blinks rapidly to clear his vision and glances to the side, “No. It wasn’t. Like I said, I didn’t know Lewis was gone gone until I was…” He stops, wincing and swallowing, “I was already here in that past when I found out he was..d..dead.”

“I don’t know how I came back. We were out on one of our investigations looking for Lewis and we ran into this…Tree creature…looked like a human-shaped tree…. I hit it with the van by accident. It’s kind of hard to remember now...” He slowly sorts through half-truths. His encounter with Lewis directly after hitting the Tree Lady dwarfed everything else in his mind, making the strange attack seem barely important. He hardly remembers events between seeing Lewis at his ghost mansion and crashing into Kingsman Mechanics.

“I ended up crashing the van...” Arthur stops, stalling. Then Lewis killed him…his brain helpfully supplies.

All his fault…he had wanted Lewis dead. So weak and pathetic. It was only fair that Lewis return the favour.

“...and I woke up in my bed. At home. In this body. Two years in the past…” He finishes quickly.

“The demon…”

“Body snatcher.” Vivi corrects. “Don’t call it a demon,” she explains, “Calling it a demon makes it sound impressive. That thing was a parasitic asshole.”

“Ri…Right,” The venom in Vivi’s voice has him restarting, “The… body snatcher…” He shakes off his discomfort and the undercurrent of fear. Arthur remembers how annoyed the demon had been when Vivi called it a body snatcher and a small part of him worries...

“It was just as surprised to find out about the time travel and was really interested in how I did it. I...I didn’t know anything useful …It, ah, went through my memories pretty throwaway so I got nothing…not even subconsciously. The…body snatcher…ah…found the memory of me pushing Lewis of a cliff…in the cave…that’s how I, ah, know I killed Lewis. The demon found the memory and showed me.”

There is a sharp movement and rustling next him and Vivi stands up. Then the crunch of gravel. Arthur tilts his head up to see Vivi standing in front of him, leaning over. She reaches out to put one hand on each of Arthur’s shoulder, grip relaxed so as not to aggravate his injury. She holds him at arm’s length, scanning his face, her expression intense.

“Stop that." She commands.

“Stop what?” Arthur responds dumbly.

“Stop saying you killed Lewis.”

“I…”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“You weren’t there. You can’t know that.”

“I know enough.”

“But…” the words stick again, “that’s just it! You don’t know. You don’t know everything…I…I haven’t told you everything yet. When I tell you, you’ll agree with me.” When he looks up the sun is high enough in the sky that it turns Vivi into a darkened outline, stirring up hazy half-forgotten deams.

He squints up at the blurry Vivi-shaped outline but can’t make out her face. The word around him is too blindingly bright to make out anything.

“It’ll be okay Arthur. Just explain what happened. I’ll understand...We all make mistakes.”

He deliberately averts his eyes, muttering, “Why are you both so stubborn.”

Vivi obviously hears because she pulls back and frowns. Then, slowly, she reaches out with one hand to touch his cheek. Arthur, confused, also reaches up with his uninjured arm to put his hand over hers. Vivi brings her other hand around so she is squeezing both his cheeks together, scanning his face.

“We’re not different people. Me and your 'future Vivi' are the same person. Just like you’re still my Arthur.”

He doesn't meet her gaze. It is a lot harder to do with her holding his face like this.

"I’m just as much your best friend as she was…”

“…” he doesn’t know what to say so pulls one of her hands away from his cheek.

“Any version of me would care if their friend,” She emphasises the word, retracting her other hand without prompting, straightening “went through something awful. I care. We’re the same.”

“But you’re...we're not. I’m not your friend…” Arthur can’t help but protest even when he knows he should give it up and let Vivi believe what she wants. Arthur never won these sorts of arguments. Better to let everything stew and think up an argument with sounder logic later when Vivi was less worked up.

Frustrated at himself he continues, “I came back to fix things, and everybody was worse off for it. I lied to you. I lied to Lewis. Now Lewis’s arm is gone…That was supposed to be me! I was the one who lost their arm. I hurt Uncle Lance. I killed Darrel! I stabbed him. He was nice. A good guy. He always took my shifts at the workshop when I couldn’t work and I couldn't save him. Just like I couldn't save Lewis. I'm cursed. If I had just not been here, he would be alive.”

“Two years Arthur,” Vivi interrupts, hash now, standing taller, hands on her hips, “You’re two years older. Last I checked, that doesn’t make you a monster so stop acting like I’ll pack up and leave because you aren’t 100%, A-Okay after living through all that horrible stuff. Nothing you say is going to change my mind so you can just quit while your ahead.”

When he opens his mouth to argue Vivi beats him to it, “Don’t you dare try and get rid of me.”

“I’ll confess.” He continues hysterically. If Vivi won’t believe him then maybe he should find a way to remove himself from the equation, “Turn myself in. I’ll tell the police I drove Darrel out into the desert and killed him.”

“No.” Vivi objects. Sharp and abrupt. “You’re not going to tell the police you did anything because it wasn’t you who did it.”

“I can’t just leave him out there. He deserves better.”

Vivi’s face spasms, “Not at your expense…You shouldn’t take the fall for this. Not on top of everything else.”

She glances around but the space around them is clear of people and Arthur realises that their conversation had been growing louder and more intense. The courtyard is now mostly empty with many of the hospital employees returning to work

Vivi lets out a long breath then kneels down, putting her at eye level, crouched in front of his chair.

Arthur still can’t hold eye contact. Vivi’s eyes are too intense.

“When the police come to question you,” she says in a lower voice, “you need to say that you came to the hospital to see your uncle then went off for some alone time to gather yourself. They’ll have you on the security cameras so you can’t deny that you were here. Luckily, they also have that asshole Micky on the cameras. Out of the two of you, he is way more suspicious, and they already have him in custody so it’s not completely unbelievable that he would kill some random employee. Guy was a nut case.”

“He’s not some random employee.” Arthur interrupts upset, finding his voice again, “Darrel was a friend, and I killed him.”

“No. No you didn’t,” Vivi snaps matching his upset with equal frustration. “Look, I know you think you deserve some punishment for...I don’t know...having a bad case of amnesia and getting possessed, both of which were out of your control. That bastard parasite probably fed you a bunch of bullshit lies as well. It seemed like just the type to gaslight. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Arthur stalls in unhappy silence, not prepared to compromise or give ground.

“If you confess to the murder then I’m going to say I was a co-conspirator and planned the whole thing.”

Arthur blinks, finally looking up. Vivi’s glare is frosty, intense, and unyielding.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why…why would you do that.”

“I told you. I’m going to help you, Arthur. If you’re set on doing this, then I’m not letting you face murder charges alone. What did you think I meant when I said that.”

“Not this,” Arthur cracks, “You can’t.”

“I can and will.” She really meant that.

“But… you’ll be arrested or something…” He is not actually sure what would happen if Vivi randomly confessed to his crime.

“Just the way it has gotta’ be apparently.”

Arthur gets with another wave of déjà vu because he has had this conversation or a similar one with Vivi before. In another life. In a different future. It leaves him floundering as both versions of Vivi seem to meld into each other, like everything he loved about his own Vivi was seeping through to this new one.

“This isn’t …” He starts then stops. “It’s not supposed to be this way,” he says helplessly. Vivi wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“Of course not. What’s the point of changing the future if everything stays the same? We’ve both seen the same moves. You know how this works.”

“Half of those movies end with a lesson on inevitable consequences and fate.”

“And half of them end with everything sorting itself out. Look, we can argue about this until I get kicked out at closing time -remind me to find the paperwork so I can sign myself up as your medical proxy- but I can guarantee that nothing you will say will change my mind.”

Well, he’s not sure about that. Maybe if told her the real truth about Lewis and his role in his murder she would leave. He wasn’t sure. The answer, which moments ago he had been so certain of, was now unclear.

“I can’t leave Darrel out in the desert,” he repeats, exhausted, “He deserves better…”

Vivi frowns, opening her mouth and then clicking it shut, considering him. Her jaw clenches and she flops back so she is now leaning against his chair instead of crouching, half stretched out across the gravel path.

“Yeah…okay,” she props up an elbow against a knee, massaging her eyes. “How about this? You give me as good a proximation of the location as possible, or any landmarks you remember, and I’ll go track Darrel down with Mystery. Then I’ll leave an anonymous tip with the police, and they can handle the rest. How does that sound?”

“Like you’re giving me much of a choice.” He mutters, trying to not let his thoughts wander off into dangerous lands filled with crackling fire and unkind whispers that would berate him for giving in and letting Vivi bully him out of justly deserved consequences.

Vivi glances up at him and she is back to looking sad, anger falling away

“Maybe I’m being too blunt about all this. I’m not good at this sort of stuff,” she says, “but, Arthur, if Darrel was a friend, then he wouldn’t have blamed you. Just like I don’t blame you. Just like Uncle Lance or Lewis wouldn’t blame you.”

He can’t help but shiver. Bright purple flames dance across his vision like ghostly hands pulling his attention.

Lewis’s angry fire catches in in shirt and a sudden drop awaits on either side of him.

“This is your fault!”

He can almost feel the heat.

Lewis had blamed him.

He doesn’t know who to believe. Should he believe Vivi, sitting here with him, peering at him with such honest intensity that he can hardly stand to look at her? Or should he believe Lewis, dead by his hand, left in a future that didn’t exist?

For some strange, unfathomable reason, he thinks he believes Vivi. If she was so willing to share the consequences of his failures, then maybe she wouldn’t care that he was so weak and pathetic. He squashes the sentiment. He can’t think like that. It’s wrong.

It must be wrong.

...

Note: a year later and this is finally done.

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #arthur #ViVi #HEAVY ANGST #hospitals #unreliable narrator #fanfiction #fanfic #time travel #dialogue heavy

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cagedcats · 1 year

Text

*edit finally crumpled down and changed Emberkit back to Firekit. They’re an original character after all, and their prefix did fit them. So changing them back to orange tabby, and back to the name Firekit.

Alright one last kitten post for Starkit’s Prophecy Redux Iterum verse- this time with Starkit II’s kits with Jazzstar.

Though this verse their parentage will be changing (still connected to Jazzstar and Starkit though the First not the Second).

Now onto their name changes

Fluffykit

Fluffykit is the only one of the siblings not named after someone interestingly enough. Which is even more surprising when he is rather important from how much he is written.

He is actually the easiest, and I gifted him my favorite prefix, Dandelion-. The other possibilities was Daffodil- or even Light-.

But Dandelion- works with a long furred cat and honestly I just love it too much to pass it up.

And Y’know I’ll discuss suffixes with the three too, and Dandelionkit is a -heart of -dusk. While him and his entire litter are described as good fighters from birth, Dandelionkit loses any fight by himself.

Which hey that’s a newborn kit you may say, and yeah but look at Starkit’s Prophecy. We got Tigerkit and Starkit II fighting and killing people from the womb.

He’s a -heart due to how dedicated he is to the cause. Sacrificing himself and even in his dying breath he doesn’t regret it, claiming this was his “destiny” to die there. He doesn’t follow his mother into her weak willed attempt at evilness and chooses his Clan.

Which could make him a -dusk as well due to his loyalty and dedication to the Clan.

So either Dandelionheart or Dandeliondusk

Firekit

They difficult to pin down, as they’re only mentioned twice. Once when they’re born and said to be bright ginger and named, and the other scene was them helping their siblings fight Tigerstar. They I can only presume named after Firestar.

Which another thing- we don’t actually know Firekit’s gender. The wiki lists Firekit as a she-cat, but there is nothing in the texts saying this from what I can get. So I’ll elect to just calling Firekit a Jack as of right now, and going with that. Our non-binary representation.

However we have nothing to go off of besides their two appearances as to what they’re like, so probably just get a -stripe suffix. Or we could do -claw or even -fang to help them stand out more. Cause we have Nightclaw and eventually their brother who is for sure getting -claw.

And I’m sure the kits would’ve been fantastic hunters too if they weren’t in fights 24/7.

So either Firestripe or Firefang

Tigerkit

No naming after his name has to go but-

Tigerkit is the most important of the three as he is what the Prophecy was actually about! Yes Starkit was going to kill her newborn son to save the forest!

…yeah

So we get his birth, he’s kidnapped and raised to be evil in the matter of minutes. He is seen beating up Tigerstar for… training I guess. He’s also married his (half) Aunt, Rainstar.

He also helps kill his brother after being hit once by Tigerstar, and then he’s beamed away by Starkit II.

Yeah not much to say about him. He’s important, but like everyone else he’s flat as hell. But what we do see is him being dedicated to the evil cats whose motives I still don’t know, and he’s a good fighter to make Tigerstar be bloody and exhausted.

Now finding something similar to Tiger- was… difficult. Since Starkit the First is a religious fanatic Nightclaw is relatively the same in that regard and wouldn’t want a lot named after the big Three. So finding something similar was hard.

But the Tiger in the Iterum religion is best described as the sky… if I remembered that correctly god. And Dusk- fits a dark brown tabby cat! So Dusk- he becomes.

Though he doesn’t fight being kidnapped.

Either way, I’m giving him -claw. Despite the absurdity of it all, he’s a good fighter, the best of his siblings from the looks of it all. I would almost budge and go -heart, but it took a magical beam to eradicate him and also suffix naming hierarchy puts skills over top of personality.

So the final one of the litter, Duskclaw.

#caged art #warriors cats #starkit’s prophecy #warriors redux iterum #Starkit’s prophecy redux

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just-some-guy-at-shiz · 8 months

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Okay, so here’s a scene: Nessa’s just gained power and started restricting rights, and Boq is bitter. There’s a bit where she keeps asking him to fetch her things out of this one particular cabinet, until eventually he gets fed up. Cue the sounds of furious hammering from another room. Nessa rolls in to see Boq standing hands-on-hips beside the cabinet, which has been ripped off the wall and sloppily nailed on farther down the wall, within Nessa’s reach. It is lopsided. One corner sticks out farther than the others, another corner is cracked, and bent nails stick out everywhere. There are patches of wallpaper missing where the cabinet used to be. This is purely an act of spite. But Nessa is thrilled, because now she can do this one thing without him.

Boq is genuinely puzzled that she’s thrilled. He kind of assumed she liked people to do things for her, because who wouldn’t, right? Didn’t really occur to see it from her point of view, because he’s too self-absorbed and oblivious for that. He figured she just had mean fun running him around on tasks 24/7. But he starts to realize that she really would rather be self-sufficient if she could, and he realizes how much the world she lives in is not disability-friendly.

Yes she’s the governor, so she definitely has the power to change things, but it doesn’t occur to her to do that, because there have never been accomodations that weren’t made special for her. She needs to be helped by Elphaba while at school because there are literally no ramps on the entire campus. Just stairs. Oz doesn’t seem to have any kind of accessibility standards for any of its institutions. Nessa doesn’t try to adjust everyday aspects of her life to fit her better because she never realized that was an option, because no one ever treated it as one. For her entire life, everyone just assumed she couldn’t do things for herself. So she believed that about herself as well.

But Boq doesn’t believe it. …Because he wants her to stop needing him. He’s very annoyed that he’s stuck with her, because in his eyes it would be very easy for her to be without him. Until the cabinet thing where he sees her excitement and realizes that it’s really not easy. So it becomes his one goal in life to fix everything standing in the way of Nessa being self-sufficient.

Out of spite.

Why is Nessa’s (one-story) home the only building with ramps on the porch stairs? You’re the governor! Put ramps on every building, so you can go to all your meetings and stuff without me! You’re already tyrannical, so outlaw stairs altogether! Ramps or bust!

Also, it’s home renovation time! Everything moved within reach (because it all really should have been anyway, but when Nessa’s father was alive he and Elphaba would have probably have gotten everything for Nessa, and she’d just be resigned to her own inability). Add other home-renovation lifehacks for wheelchair users that I don’t know about because I don’t need them and it’s too 12:22 AM for me to bother looking them up!

And Oz has somekinda steampunk technology, right? Too many gears on the set pieces for there not to be, nevermind the dragon. What if we could put a motor on their chair? What if there could be useful harnesses for times she needs to be out of the chair? What if there were those chair-lifty-seat-things on the side of tall staircases?

Anyway. My point is, Boq starts making more small changes, hoping it’ll make some difference. Nessa worries when he’s gone all day, but he comes back exhausted from working on a rough, bumpy dirt path that was impossible to roll over, chopping up logs to cover the path in smooth wooden planks. He re-positions more shelves and cabinets, more neatly this time. He does a few other domestic things that I can’t think of off the top of my head. All out of selfish desperation, mind you, but with each of these changes, Nessa’s mood lifts, and she demands less of Boq, which makes him less moody, and they start to actually get along. And now that they’re communicating, they work together on this accessibility improvements stuff, because who knows better what Nessa needs than Nessa? Now that she’s seen how much of a difference can be made, she’s taking charge of it all for herself, because she can.

Nessa stops being bitter about what she still can’t do for herself, because now there’s so many more things she can. Boq stops being bitter about his whole situation, because Nessa’s starting to ease up on the whole tyrant thing, and it’s sorta endearing how excited she gets. Now that she spends less time gloomy and solemn (or short-tempered), he can see the way her eyes light up when she’s happy, and she smiles just as sweetly as that night at the ballroom…

The huge problem I can’t get past is that he still doesn’t love her. Because Boq is seemingly the only person who doesn’t think she’s helpless because she’s in a wheelchair, who believes in her self-sufficiency, Nessa loves him even more than she did before. And now that he’s growing to be on friendlier terms with her, Nessa would be even more convinced Boq loves her back, when really, he just doesn’t like-like her and that’s that. This might all be for naught. She might still get heartbroken and magic-spell him. But… What if walking, amazing as it would be, wouldn’t “change everything”? What if she already feels mostly self-sufficient? What if she’s no longer bitter about being dependent? Would that change anything?

I expanded this too far. The only important thing is the scene where Boq rips a cabinet off the wall and practically just duct-tapes it on again lower down, and then gets baffled that it apparently wasn’t recieved as an act of rebellion.

#wicked #wicked musical #boq bfeeson #nessarose thropp

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maryonacross · 2 years

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ok sorry this took so long here we go my btr x glee crossover event. post dedicated to kingsley @brobecker feel free to yell at me in a bad or good way after reading this idk. lol. keep in mind im basing this entirely off when i rewatched btr last summer and im only like halfway thru season 1 of glee so.

ok to start i still havent quite figured out how they would exist in this universe. itd be funnier if the band just visited the glee high school for like a week but also not as fun to think abt so for our purposes today, let's say they (the band) all transferred to wmhs at the same time for some reason. the band doesnt exist but they still grew up together and are besties blah blah blah.

objectively gustavo was my favorite to think abt because he just fits in this school perfectly because hes insane. he'd probably be a band teacher or something else related to music but he'd be Best Friends with sue sylvester bc they love tormenting children. him and mr schue have a reluctant working relationship bc sometimes gustavo has to help with glee club for music stuff but don't be fooled -- they absolutely despise each other. i like to think one time schue was sick and gustavo filled in to lead a glee club meeting and it went so bad schue never took a sick day again.

kelly was way harder to pin down bc i feel like she fits the "exhausted assistant" trope way too well to exist in this universe. i think she'd probably be gustavo's TA or something and he'd def make her grade all his students' papers so he doesn't have to do any actual work except "teach." sadly she's the only responsible adult in the entire building but shes still kind of crazy (because who wouldn't be when you have to deal with gustavo rocque 24/7).

james would obviously be the first person in the group to join glee club and he'd probably join within the first week of transferring. at first a bunch of the girls are obsessed with him (bc when you live in the middle of nowhere and someone who looks like That walks in you have to nab him like your life depends on it. speaking as a semi small towner) but then when he joins glee he's obviously pushed to the bottom of the social ladder so no one ever makes a move. he's still a hot topic though wink wink. rachel has a not so subtle crush on him bc he fits her male lead fantasy. james doesn't reciprocate but he also doesn't explicitly turn her down bc he likes the attention. however after a while they do become Best Friends. james admires her passion and drive and can relate to her desire to be a star. he's quick to stick up for her but not afraid to tell her when shes being an ass too lol. back to romance i think he tries to flirt with brittany or maybe even santana (bc obviously) and he gets slushied the next day. it's tragic. kurt shows him how to get the stains out of his clothes. speaking of kurt, when i first tried figuring out who the guys would be friends with, he was the first person to come to mind when i considered james. however, i think they're wayyy too similar to be friends. i kind of see them as caricatures of each other in a way. they still have a mutual respect for each other though. i like to think kurt indirectly helped james come to terms with his sexuality bc kurt's awesome lol (i personally headcanon James Diamond The Character as bisexual bc 1. have you seen him and 2. im bisexual and i like him). also i think james really looks up to mr. schue unfortunately. like he doesn't see him as weird (even though he is) he just sees him as a Fun Teacher. it's the kind of thing he'll look back on a while after he graduates and just be like "....wait what the fuck?" sorry this got long james is just my fave.

kendall is next to join glee club and i think hes recruited the same way finn was. i also think it happened similar to the way he won gustavo's singing competition. he was probably meeting up with james after rehearsal or something and was just fucking around making fun of him (as friends do) and schue was like Hey Kid. Have You Ever Considered Joining Glee? and kendall's like "nah i'm not a singer..." and thankfully schue is past his blackmail stage but he still desperately wants kendall in the club so he enlists james to convince him. antics ensue but he joins eventually. he immediately clicks with finn bc they're both jock types with a heart of gold and even though btr doesn't exist, they're still able to bond over being quasi-leaders of their respective friend groups. speaking of which, kendall is way too nice for this school it's tragic. of course he's not against a good practical joke but he's also not against getting into fights if it's necessary and so even before he joined the club the glee kids would hang around him like ducklings in order to avoid getting slushied. kendall's also the only one who would see through schue's antics.....if glee were a mockumentary he would be looking straight into the camera in every scene. he'll also go toe to toe with sue if the need arises. he's like the cheerio's union representative basically.

after kendall joins logan and carlos quickly follow suit. carlos is more hesitant to join than logan is but it still doesn't take that much more convincing. idk why, but i feel like logan would join the school newspaper but quits after 2 weeks bc the editor (the guy sue blackmailed into running the quinn pregnancy story) is an asshole. logan gets an entire episode's subplot dedicated to him staging a coup and becoming the new editor. they perform a song from newsies at the end of the ep. its emotional. its tearjerking. im weeping just imagining it. i think he'd be good friends with artie, just because they're both kinda nerdy? they're super similar but they don't clash like kurt and james would.

i think carlos' life would be pretty similar to his life in btr. i think he'd go after pretty much every girl in glee club but nothing would come from it. out of the 4 of them, he's the least serious about glee. he's just there to have fun. he tries out for the football team since he's a jock and i doubt wmhs has a hockey team. he gets in but quits soon after because he hates everyone on the team. i feel like he's on friendly terms with most of the people in the club but doesn't really connect with them like he connects with james, kendall, and logan.

[kendall knight voice] and that's what you missed on glee!

#k.txt #my magnum opus...

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