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angelizs · 2 years

Text

[Strawberry tinted - Jade Leech]

Summary: Jade sighs, closing his eyes. He wants to scream. These feelings of infatuation had long involved past a simple crush. No matter how much he denied, they wouldn't leave him alone anytime soon. You weren't leaving him alone anytime soon.

Notes: gn!reader (use of they/them), fluff and humor, just a silly romcom based on this ask! jade is so whipped for the reader, I was having so much fun writing it got away from me and almost reached 10k what??? special shoutout to ramble anon <3 now cross posted on ao3!

Jade Leech was not one for sentimentalism.

It was quite clear for everyone around him. Jade didn't show his true emotions on his face and always kept his suave persona up at all times. If he was shocked or sad or angry, no one could ever tell behind his polite smile and sharp eyes.

Even Azul and Floyd, the ones closest to him, had trouble discerning his feelings at times. Jade was very discreet with his actions and words, oftentimes leaving things to be read between the lines.

Thus, everyone and their mothers could atest to that: Jade Leech was not a sentimental person. He was calm and collected, acting as if he was above and in control of every situation, untouchable by such fickle things such as emotions.

Although, not for the knowledge of many, there was just a tiny little exception in the shape of a certain magicless human.

Not even Jade himself could tell how this came to be. It was part of the charm, how you fascinated him so easily, without any extra effort on your part. There was something appealing in your sincerity and affection, things he was not that used to. You always managed to surprise him, making him fall deeper and deeper for you everytime you caught him off guard. His heart fluttered everytime you kept up toe to toe with him, be it in friendly banter or in deeper conversations.

There were not many people who could say they were able to see Jade showing his true emotions. You just happened to be one of them. When he was with you, his smile would reach his eyes and he'd show just a bit of his teeth, his voice would take a teasing tilt laced with barely concealed affection, his face would light up like the sun whenever you asked him to tell you more about a new mushroom he was tending to or about his newest mountain expedition.

It was the first time anyone made him feel like this. While Jade had no trouble holding his usual mask in place, his heart would race faster on his chest, his hands would get slightly clammy, he'd feel the urge to bite his lips or to play with his hair to release some of the pent up energy he felt around you. And he wanted more of your time, to be able to see you between his classes and work, to spend some time relaxing together or discovering new things.

Life at the deep sea was very different from life on land. Love at the deep sea was very different from love on land. Perhaps that's what made the whole experience so fascinating, after all. It was something he'd have never been able to have if he had stayed down there on the murky cold waters. He'd never been able to bask in these warm feelings, so new and unknown.

Jade thought he was doing a good job, overall. He didn't change much about how he acts normally, most people wouldn't notice a single thing was different. There were times he had the impression you did, like you could see right through his façade as if it was nothing, melting away his walls and looking straight at him, for who he is. It was frightening and exhilirating at the same time, to be seen. Jade didn't know what to make of it, as of yet.

Azul and Floyd seemed to disagree, though. At first, Floyd thought it was hilarious, how his usually serious brother could have something as innocent as a crush. He'd tease Jade constantly whenever they crossed paths with the prefect just to ruffle his feathers and get a rise out of him. Seeing the unbothered Jade glaring at him with a clearly annoyed look was so entertaining. Azul didn't care, as long as it didn't affect his work at the lounge, Jade could like whoever he wanted, though he was quite curious as to how the situation came to be.

And then Jade's feelings grew and it become obvious, to them, that it was a little more than a simple crush. By the way Jade acted around you, as it seemed like he glowed when you were near him, and how he talked about you, mentioning something you did or liked or that reminded him of you every once in a while in conversation. It was subtle, as most things involving Jade were, but enough for them to take notice. It was almost at the level of his mushrooms obsession, and that was saying something.

No one dared to make a move. Having Jade being infatuated with someone broke the careful balance of things in the trio, taking him out of his position as the cold and calculating Vice-Housewarden and putting him in a more complex label. Floyd and Azul always relied on him to fall back onto should things go wrong, trusting he'd make it alk work out as someone that was above everything. Taking such a pedestal out, Jade seemed much less like some higher being and much more... human.

Not that they didn't know he was capable of feelings, of course. They were aware Jade cared about them, otherwise he wouldn't have sticked around so long by their side. It was just surprising to see someone else entering the little bubble of people Jade cared about after such a long time with it being just the two of them there.

That's why they thought Jade should do something about his crush. It was almost painful to watch you dance around each other, every interaction filled to the brim with affection, stolen glances and flirty tones. Floyd wanted to just tell you about his brother's feelings and get it over with, but he knew that wasn't the best way to go about it, as Azul had drilled onto his head after he suggested they did that. Jade insisted he was fine with things staying as they were for the time being, still not done with observing and experimenting with both his and your reactions.

"Prefect, what a wonderful surprise. How may I be of service today?"

You laugh, recognizing the irony on his tone. You tried to visit Mostro Lounge as often as you could when Jade was on the clock, even if your wallet weeped at this. He was expecting you, as he always did.

"Oh, I don't know, I don't come around too often. What would you reccomend?" You tease back, playfulness dancing in both of your eyes. It's a game you're used to, the banter coming naturally to you.

"You really should, then." He winks, somehow managing to look suave while doing so and wiping a glass at the same time. "How about... a strawberry milkshake?"

You gasp dramatically, doing an exaggerated expression of surprise. "That's my favorite! How could you know? Maybe it was destiny I came here after all..."

That earns you a chuckle, making satisfaction swin in your stomach at warranting such a reaction. Jade's amusement is clear by the smile on his face and his scrunched up eyebrows. You can't help but smile back, warmth surrounding you as you take in the sound and commit it to memory.

"Perhaps it was. I'll bring you your drink in a minute."

You lean on the counter of the bar, watching him work gracefully. At the corner of your eye, you can see Floyd making some kind of annoyed expression. Jade pointedly ignores him, making flourish of adding the finishing touches on the milkshake, adding in a little umbrella on top of the whipped cream, near the strawberry hanging onto the glass.

"Here you go. I hope you enjoy it, prefect, I made it with the utmost care, after all."

He hands the drink to you, hands making contact just for a second longer than necessary, and slides a biodegradable straw to the cup's side. You insert it on the milkshake, drinking in and closing your eyes in delight. It tasted wonderful, as all of Jade's drinks did.

"I take it you do like it, from that reaction." He teases, leaning into where you're seated. There are other workers attending to the bar and the lounge isn't too crowded, so he can afford to keep conversation with you for some moments. You looked quite cute enjoying something so simple as if it was a five star meal.

"It's delicious! Here, have some." You spin the cup around, putting the straw right in front of him. Jade's eyes widen just the tinniest fraction as he looks taken aback by your proposal.

"Oh, it wouldn't do for me to drink something from a client. Azul would have my neck, you see."

You roll your eyes, knowing Azul didn't intimidate him at all. Plus, what Azul didn't see couldn't hurt him. "Then don't drink it as a Mostro worker, but as my friend."

His eyes bore into yours for a few seconds before his blank expression breaks into a smile, the lighest pink tint coloring his cheeks, almost imperceptible. "Well, if you insist, I suppose I'll humor you." He tucks his longer strand of hair behind his ear before leaning in, taking a sip from your straw and closing his eyes to mimick your earlier action. It was quite a sight. Your heart beat faster and your throat seemed dry all of sudden, making you swallow on air.

"You are right, as usual. It does taste delicious." He keeps his head inclined, lips almost touching the straw as he licks them, eyes looking at you through his lashes, voice low. You grip your tigh and bite your lower lip, hoping your face won't betray how warm it feels.

"Of course, it was made by the best. I'll have to show you that guy sometime, he's really good."

"I would be delighted to meet him."

He turns the milkshake back to you, still leaning in as his eyes sparkle with mischief. He seems as entertained by this game as you are. You put your hand on top of his, still at the bottom of the cup, and bring it closer, taking a sip while keeping eye contact. His smile softens at the corners and there's something fond on his expression. Your hand squeezes his before letting go. He opens his mouth to say something before he's called to attend another client.

His face falls and he looks disappointed to leave this little moment behind, almost as if he forgot he was still working. He apologizes for the interruption and you wave him off, saying how it was your fault for taking so much of his time anyway. The milkshake is still as good as it was once he leaves, but it feels like it's missing something.

By the corner of the bar, Azul and Floyd stand observing the interaction. Floyd wants to tear his hair out and Azul looks constipated. How long will they have to watch you two doing this? It's about time they staged an intervention, for both yours and their sake.

Things continue like normal for some time. You still visit him at the lounge, Azul and Floyd still suffer through your blatant flirting, Jade still observes things carefully.

And, as usual, Jade tends to his beloved mushrooms. He's gotten a new species on his latest mountain excursion, one with a pretty pink and wrinkled cap and white stem. It reminds him of your strawberry milkshake and he thinks you'd like to see them. He'd even give one to you in a carefully decorated terrarium if he was absolutely sure it wasn't poisonous. Oh well, just seeing them would have to suffice. Jade would make sure to keep them as pretty as possible.

They grew on a hardwood trunk, the soothing scent of camphor drifting through the wet air of the botanical garden. Under the canopy of dense trees, they looked even more peach in the midst of all the greenery. The wrinkles tickled his gloved fingers as he caressed the mushroom, treating it with care. The artificial river followed it's course nearby, providing with a lullaby of serenity. The scene felt comfortable, Jade felt content. He felt as much at home as he did under the sea.

Perhaps it was due to this mushy atmosphere that Jade felt compelled to talk about you. He's used to talking with his mushrooms, as he'd read that it helps them grow, but this time it felt different, like revealing a secret to a confidant. Almost like a confession.

"The prefect came to visit me at work today, once again. Even if the menu of the lounge takes a toll on their budget, they come almost every day. I don't see why they keep doing it."

The mushroom doesn't reply, as it is simply a fungi and it doesn't know how to talk.

"You are right, I do know why. They want to spend more time with me, just like I do with them. It is truly a shame I'm so busy we have to resort to meeting while I'm at work. I wish I could give them my full attention, without having to go serve other customers."

The river goes on, birds chirp outside, the wind rattles the foliage gently.

"The fact they keep going makes me... happy. I'm glad to see them there. I would even dare to say it is the highest point of the day. I look forward to it every shift."

Naturally, a gentle smile takes over his face. His eyes are soft as he keeps caressing the mushroom's cap.

"Azul and Floyd say I should confess soon. How out of character it would be for me to do so. I have considered it before, even, but... I'm not sure if I want to change our current relationship. It is comfortable. And I don't want to lose it."

Jade sighs, full with yearning. The next bit comes out as a whisper, almost as if he spoke a little louder it would become more real than it already is. He feels vulnerable admiting such a thing, as he's not one for sentimentalism, but it also feels... right.

"I really like the prefect. I would like to take them out on a date and give them my full attention. I would like to receive their affections and have their smile directed at me. I would like to hold and to kiss them. I would like to bask in ther warmth for as long as they would let me."

It feels ecstatic, like a weight being lifted off his chest. Now, if only he could tell this to the person who was meant to hear it.

Footsteps pop the bubble of quietness, startling Jade and making him get up from the ground, dusting of his pants and calming down his heart. He was unusually jumpy, as if the admission of his feelings out loud could have reached your ears.

"Jade, here you are!"

Talk about the devil and he shall appear. Although in this case, you were more like an angel, such an ethereal presence lightning up the path, quite literally as the sun shone past the leaves and created a halo on your head.

"Prefect. Were you looking for me?"

He's sure his voice was perfectly level, but something on his tone makes you pause and tilt your head at him, a contemplative look passing through your face fast as flash, gone as soon as he saw it. Jade feels like you saw through his act, but decided to not comment for his sake.

"Oh, there's something I want to give you!"

Your sing song voice breaks the tension on his shoulders. He remembers you mentioning being busy working on a surprise for him, though you wouldn't budge at any of his questions to expand more on what exactly this surprise was.

"Is it related to a certain surprise, perhaps?"

"You know me too well, Jade! C'mon, close your eyes and give me your hands."

He considers not doing so just to see your reaction, but the excitement dancing in your eyes was too endearing for him to disturb, so he complies.

"My, my, I wonder what could it be that you couldn't wait for my shift to give it to me."

"You'll see!"

You deposit something gently on his hands, a small and fragile thing by the feel of it. There are two of them, smooth with a pointy end and fitting on his palm. He opens his eyes, curious, while you stare expectantly.

On his open hand sits a pair of handmade mushroom earrings. They are blue dotted with white spots, a twist on the classic red to fit more with his color scheme. They had been lovingly coated with paint and varnish, wrapped with silver wire.

"There you go! Do you like it?"

Jade blinks. He can't stop looking at them, at every detail imbedded on the accessories, at the care you must have for them.

"Did you make it?"

"Yep! I saw it on magicam these days and thought of you, so I decided to try my hand at it. I get it if it's a bit wonky, that's the first time I do something like this."

"It is perfect."

He says it on a whisper, almost as if all the air on his lungs was used to push the words through the lump around his throat. His heart flutters and Jade feels the overwhelming urge to thank you over and over again. It's a simple gift, but the mere fact that you made it simply because you thought he might like it meant the world to him.

You seem mesmerized by his reaction. It is quite uncharacteristic of him to show so many emotions, but he needs to express his gratitude, he needs you to know how much he appreciates it.

"Thank you, prefect. They are truly wonderful." He pockets them carefully, making sure they won't be damaged. He can't meet your eyes. He's sure that if he does, you'll see straight through his heart, dissecate his chest and pull out all his ribs to discover the mushy feelings inside, growing like vines on his lungs. "Ah, I don't have anything to offer in return, I'm afraid."

"There's no need to give me anything back. I just did it because I wanted to make you happy, that's all there is to it."

"I... I see." Jade wasn't sure what to make of it. Your smile was sincere, your body language suggested you were entirely too comfortable, your tone of voice was it's usual melody. "You might want to be careful when making such heartfelt remarks like that, prefect. People might get the wrong idea."

His atempt at deflecting the topic was quite weak, not fooling you in the slightest. "Let them think whatever they want. I only said how I feel, after all."

And against facts there were no arguments, were there?

"I suppose you are right once more."

You only laugh, looking around the area for the first time since you arrived. You notice the mushroom quickly, it's peach color catching your attention and making you coo at it.

"Oh, it's so pretty! That's the new species you found, yes?"

You crouch near the trunk, observing the fungi. Your hair falls slightly over your eyes as you take in the sight. The sun still shines above, surrounding you and creating an illusion of dancing light specks around your figure. There was something magical on the scene itself. Jade was captivated, he couldn't look away.

"Jade, they're beautiful." You murmur, extending your hand to touch it lightly, a delighted smile spreading through your face at the tickle of the wrinkles.

"Yes, they are." Jade agrees. He's not looking at the mushrooms. There's something much more charming for him to see.

You turn to face him, unguarded wonder on your expression, as if Jade had shown you one of the most fascinating things you've ever seen. His ears are most likely as pink as the subject of your admiration. He mirrors your smile, adapting a softer version of it.

"Can you tell me more about it, please?"

Oh, what was Jade going to do with you? You were going to kill him with an arrhythmia at the rate things were going.

"Of course, it would be my pleasure to do so."

He crouches down by your side, your legs pressing against each other. His hand comes up adjust your hair behind your ear, fingers grazing your skin just a touch more than necessary. He starts with a low whisper, making you lean into him to hear. "You see, this is a rare species called Rhodotus Palmatus. It is quite unique, as there are no others that can compare to it. It is said to be the prettiest mushroom in the world, so imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon them on my latest excursion..."

You let him ramble on, making questions or comments to show your interest. Jade feels his chest blooming with pink azaleas, throughly charmed by you.

He ends up getting late for his shift at Mostro Lounge. Before Azul could berate him for it, you took responsability and said you were the one taking his time. Azul, strangely enough, decided to let it pass and just told him to get to work. Your milkshake that day had an extra strawberry and a pink flower decorating the cup.

After they closed up the lounge, Jade got Floyd to pierce his other ear. His brother looked at him with curiosity at the sudden request but obliged, not kicking much of a fuss.

The eelmer found himself on quite the embarrassing situation. He was alone on the bathroom, staring at his reflection on the mirror. On one ear, his usual sturgeon scales earring. On the other, a shiny new mushroom earring. He kept staring, feeling the sensation of the extra weight, how it'd shake alongside his head movements, how the blue was the perfect shade to match his hair.

Jade took it off, staring at it in his hands. It was so small. He thought about how much time you might have spent on the details, each white dot made with the utmost care. How you might have struggled to get the shape right, as noticible by the slight imperfections around the edges of the mushroom's cap. How, through it all, the thing motivating you was to see him smiling.

Such a sentimental thing innocently resting against his palm.

His other earring was taken out as well, the three of them put on a small box at the bathroom cabinet. Jade brushed his teeth on automatic. He went to the empty bedroom, Floyd nowhere in sight, and sat on his bed. There was some kind of restlesness shivering under his skin, his heartbeat didn't feel right, his face remained warm. He had to admit, you had quite the effect on him.

Jade Leech was not one for sentimentalism. Then why did a simple earring cause such a reaction on him?

He had to remain calm. It would not do to lose the firm grip he held on his emotions. His usual polite façade relied onto such control, on how Jade managed to keep a level head in all kinds of situations. If he broke that mask, what would become of his reputation? The cunning vice housewarden of Octavinelle, one known to be just as dangerous as his twin brother, acting all sappy with the magicless human, arguably the least threatning person in the entire campus.

Your words from earlier come to mind, sweet voice carrying like a whisper on the breeze. Let them think what they want. Either way, he had other means of making them talk, whether they thought of him as weak for showing his affection or not. It could even be advantageous, creating a more open image of him that might make them more willing to share their secrets.

Once he thinks of you, a calm look in your face as you feel at home in the middle of the foliage, listening attentively to every word he says, eyes shining with fondness, he can't be bothered about what others would think at all. He thinks of strawberry milkshake, a lazy afternoon at the lounge as you fill him in on the gossip of the freshmen. He thinks of a peach and a teal mushroom, the two making quite the pair together. He thinks of your concentrated expression as you ramble about your latest interest on a nightly walk. He thinks of your warm touch on his cold skin, never shying away from his sharp edges.

Jade sighs, closing his eyes. He wants to scream. These feelings of infatuation had long involved past a simple crush. No matter how much he denied, they wouldn't leave him alone anytime soon. You weren't leaving him alone anytime soon.

On an uncharacteristic manner, he threw himself on the bed, his face smushed against the pillow. There was no one around to judge this slip of posture and show of vulnerability. Just him and his thoughts of you. He felt the childish urge to kick his legs and trash around, something so like Floyd it almost made him laugh. He felt feverish, his chest ached with a yearning he couldn't describe. Pathetically, he wanted to be yours, he wanted you to be his, a feeling so overwhelming he didn't know what to make of it.

He had to get a grip.

He did kick his legs a little though. Simply to see what was so appealing about it.

Unbeknown to him, Floyd happened to open the silent door at that exact time. He took one look at his brother's state, remembered the handmade mushroom earring he was given as a gift and your cheery presence by his side once he arrived late to his shift, and decided to close the door again. He was so not in the mood to deal with this.

It was time him and Azul did something about it. If neither Jade nor you would give the first step, Floyd had the perfect plan to give you the little push you needed.

And so, the next day had the twins walking together at the hallways of Night Raven College, moving from one class to another. It was an uneventful scene, something that could be observed everyday. Still, there was something bothering Jade. He could feel something was different, somehow, but couldn't put his finger on what it was.

After he had a mini breakdown of drowning in his own feelings in the previous night, he felt more on edge. He was sure he looked immaculate on the outside before leaving his room, uniform ironed and buttoned up impecably, hair combed properly and the usual polite smile on face. It would do no good to look frazzled. The only difference was the teal mushroom earring hanging from his right ear.

Floyd was in one of his good moods, chirpy and with a skip on his step. He seemed to be looking for someone but kept himself at Jade's side, despite them having different classes that period.

Both twin's faces light up as soon as they see you coming out of a classroom, balancing books in your hands. Floyd's scream of "Shrimpy" is enough to clear the path to your direction and to catch your attention. You try to wave at them, almost making the books fall before you catch them just in time.

"There you are, Shrimpy!"

"Good morning, prefect."

"Ah, Jade, Floyd, hi! It's good to see you guys!"

Floyd ruffles your hair playfully, making it stick in every direction and letting out a laugh. Jade finds your answering pout endearing.

"Prefect, if you wouldn't mind?" Jade offers his free arms, letting you slide most of the books to him. It was a natural action, well praticed as Jade was used to helping you with little everyday chores. Even when you tried to deny giving him more work, he insisted it was his pleasure to help. Eventually you understood that was simply his way of showing affection and let him do as he wanted to, as long as he didn't overwork himself in the process.

"Thank you! C'mon, I have to take these to professor Trein before we have our next class with him at the end of the hallway."

The three of you walk together, even though the twin's classrooms weren't near yours. You appreciated the company, so it wasn't like you were about to complain. Floyd wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning on you, as Jade looks on curiously, wondering what his brother could have come up with this time.

"Say, Shrimpy, are you free tomorrow?"

"Hmm... tomorrow is Saturday, right? Then I think that I've got some free time, yes."

"Great! You know who else is free tomorrow? Jade is! How about the two of you have a date, then?"

It's as if time paused, the three of you stopping in the middle of the halls. Both you and Jade stare incredulously at Floyd, not daring to make eye contact with each other. Jade feels his heart stopping for a second as well, followed by a feeling of annoyance. Oh, he'd have a few choice words for his dearest brother once they were alone.

"I didn't hear a no from either of you, so I'm taking it as confirmation. You'll have dinner together at Mostro Lounge! Don't be late or else Azul will raise the price of the bill, you know how he is." And with that, Floyd simply turns around and leaves you two stunned into silence, watching his retreating back.

Jade would have gone after him if he wasn't busy helping you carry your books. As it was, he was left to deal with the mess Floyd caused, as usual. He clears his throat, making you turn your attention to him. The confusion in your face would normally warm his heart, but this time he only feels dread.

"I'm sorry, prefect, I don't know where this came from. I will have a talk with Floyd for the inconvenience."

There's a pensive look on your face before you avert your eyes, words coming out in a low tone.

"Actually... I wouldn't mind going on a date with you tomorrow. If you want to, that is."

Jade feels his heart stop once more, for an entirely different reason from the last time. He should get it checked with how often it's been doing that.

"You... wouldn't?" His words are laced with tentative hope, so fragile.

"No. I'd love to, actually." Your cheeky smile blinds him like the sun and gives him the confirmation he needed. Wearing his confidence like a well worn glove, he puts on his best charming expression.

"In this case, allow me to ask you out properly. Prefect, would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?"

You chuckle, mirth coloring your gaze as you bounce on your feet. "Why, yes Jade, I'd love that."

"Perfect. Then, I'll pick you up at your dorm for dinner. My treat."

"Oh, how charming. I'll be waiting for you!"

Before Jade can answer, the bell rings and you're reminded you do have a class to get to. You both scurry to your classroom at the end of the hallway, stealing glances between yourselves, a giddiness enveloping you. Jade arrives fashionably late for his own class with a smile on his face, teeth exposed and all. His classmates give him a wide berth, creeped out by whatever trouble that expression could bring. Jade doesn't mind, too busy thinking on what to put on the menu for your dinner to care about his classmates fearing for their lives.

Later on the day, he had quite a pleasant conversation with Floyd about the stunt he pulled. Floyd got to feel how his squeezing victims felt. He's sure it was eye opening for his brother.

Azul also got bombarded with an intricate menu request for the following day. He knew Floyd had to be involved with this somehow, but couldn't he had asked him beforehand about reserving the lounge for the night?

It was not until the next day that you saw Jade again. As promised, he was knocking politely on the door of Ramshackle by the time the clock hit six p.m.

He looks stunning. You had to take a moment to take him in fully. The smart suit fitting him perfectly, black social shoes and hair properly combed. On both his ears, blue mushrooms hanging contently. You could feel a faint scent of cologne, some earthy smell that was so much like him you couldn't help feeling endeared by it.

"Good evening, prefect. You look wonderful."

"Thank you. You're not that bad yourself." You wink, letting him in as you finish putting your shoes.

"Not that bad? My, my, you wound me. And after I took so much time getting ready to meet your standarts, too."

You chuckle, shaking your head, sincerity taking over your teasing tone. "Oh, Jade, you already met my standarts, no need to get all dolled up."

"You flatter me." He offers his hand for you to stand up.

"Maybe I do. Would you rather I stop?" You accept it, letting him pull you.

"No need, I'm quite content as it is." He brings your hands to his lips, grazing them so lightly you almost can't feel them. It sends shivers across your arm and heat to your cheeks. "I brought you a gift."

"Really?"

"Of course. Here, please allow me to put it on."

Jade shows you a necklace with a silver chain and a pretty peach colored shell. You brush your fingers on it, feeling the spiral pattern and it's roughness. It has a slightly salty smell, as if there was a piece of the sea itself imbedded on it.

"It's beautiful, Jade, thank you." The way you say it as if Jade had given you some priceless jewel makes satisfaction wash through him in waves.

You turn around, holding your hair out of the way for him to put it in place. His cold fingers brush against your sensitive neck, once again making shivers rise along your skin. His hands rest on your shoulders as he leans in, mouth so close to your ear you can feel every puff of hot air.

"It was the least I could do after receiving your enchanting gift."

He pulls away, leaving your neck feeling oddly bare despite the extra weight on it. You spin around to face him, holding the shell close to your heart.

"I told you there was no need to give me anything back!"

"Don't get it wrong, this isn't pay back, prefect. I merely did it because I wanted to make you happy, that's all there is to it." He looks quite smug throwing your words back at you.

"That's not fair, you know." You pout playfully, making a low chuckle leave his lips. "Oh, I got a gift for you too! Wait just a second!"

That picks his curiosity, as he wasn't expecting anything this time. It seemed that you truly took delight in giving him things. His chest felt warm at the thought.

You come back holding a bouquet of pink hydrangeas, the shade remembering him of the newest mushroom he had showed you. It's beautifully done, wrapped in a light blue paper and tied by a pink ribbon.

"My heartfelt emotions, to you." You make flourish when giving it to him, bending down in a bow.

His cheeks tint pink, matching the lovely shade of the flowers. He accepts them gracefully, thanking you. It's quite a sight, Jade fully buttoned up, the image of a perfect gentleman, carrying the flowers as if they were the most precious thing he owns.

"C'mon, let's get going before Azul charges us extra for the wait."

"Don't worry, he wouldn't dare to." There's a hint of pointy teeth in his smile, enough to imply the threat Azul'd be under should he try something.

You lead him out of the door, walking side by side to the mirror chamber. Neither of you are in a hurry, so you take your time to appreciate each other's company. It feels like only a second has passed by once you're in front of Octavinelle's entrance.

"Shall we enter, my dear? We can't have the food turning cold on us."

His free hand finds it's way around your lower back as he guides you through the mirror and to the lounge, navigating tables expertly. The whole establishment is empty besides the two of you, smooth jazz playing on the background and dim lights creating a cozy atmosphere. The fish pass you by on the water tanks, creating an entrancing dance, a blur of colors reflecting on the glass.

You take your seat on a table right in the middle, one more decorated than the others, a white cloth and a vase of flowers sitting on top of it. You can see the whole room from there, from the bar to Azul's VIP room's door.

Even with the formality of the situation, you find yourself comfortable in his familiar presence. Jade can talk with you for hours on end, each word capturing your attention wholly. As you wait for your order to come, you let the jazz rythm lull your conversation, playing with the shell on your necklace from time to time.

Many would say Jade Leech is a scary man. It's true, you think. The way he's entranced you is terrifyingly thrilling. At the same time, it isn't true at all, not to you at least. You know how dangerous he can be, you're not that naive, but you feel safe with him. How ironic that the sharp smile that makes so many shiver from fear is what warms your heart.

Floyd is the one to arrive with your order, making a show of spinning it before putting it on the table. You chuckle at his antics, watching him dance as he retreats to the kitchen.

"I hope it is up to your taste. I made sure there were only the best ingredients being used, handpicked by myself."

"It looks delicious! Not sure if I trust the handpicking part, tho. You're sure you didn't slip any poisonous mushroom on it?" You joke, taking a bite of the food. The taste disperses on your tongue and you hum contently, the warmth spreading to your body as you swallow. You take another bite, making amusement shine in Jade's eyes.

"Well, now that you mention it... you can still feel your tongue, yes?"

You almost choke in your laughter, coughing as he makes a worried face that doesn't fool you for a second. "Ugh, you're the worst. But this is so good I think it'd be worth the trip to the infirmary."

"I'm glad you like it so much, then."

"Yeah, the company isn't half bad either."

"I could say the same. You're rather delightful to have around. Much more so without being delirious from an unfortunate accident, so you don't have anything to worry about."

Your smile grows bigger at the compliment, mischief sparkling in your gaze as you wait for him to take a bite before answering. "Awn, you care about me? That's cute."

It's Jade's turn to splutter, although he does so in a much more dignified and contained way than you did. If it wasn't for the rising of his shoulders and the widening of his eyes, you wouldn't be able to tell he was fazed at all. Lucky for you, you took notice of his reactions as much as he did for yours. Before he can retort, there's an interruption in the shape of a certain Housewarden.

"Is everything going alright? How do you like the food?" Azul has a polite costumer smile plastered on his face, but his curiosity is obvious. You and Jade exchange a glance between yourselves.

"It's wonderful, as always."

"I see, I see." He pauses for a second too long, taking in the scene fully. Jade glares at him once they meet eyes. You stifle a giggle. "I wouldn't want to take more of your time. Please continue to enjoy your evening."

"We will." Jade replies curtly, eyes boring into Azul until he's out of view. He turns to you, composure back in place, which only makes you want to laugh more. You pretend you didn't notice it, taking another bite from your dish.

"You know..." You catch his attention, making him look inquisitively at you. "Your plate looks really good too. What is it?"

"Interested, are we? It's a mushroom risotto, made with mushrooms I collected on my mountain expeditions."

"Oh, I think I saw one similar to this on the cafeteria once!"

"Yes, the club contributes with foraging some of the ingredients used on the cafeteria's dishes."

"Woah, that's so cool. How come I didn't know this?"

"You didn't ask." His eyes wrinkle at the corner, clearly pleased with your praise to his beloved club.

"How was I supposed to ask this? It's way too specific!"

"Hm, I suppose it is."

You stick your tongue at him, knowing it's just like Jade to pull something like this. "As recompensation, I want a bite!"

"It does taste delicious." He takes another bite and chews slowly, eyes locked with yours the entire time.

"C'mon Jade! Please?" You bat your lashes at him playfully, although it seems to have some effect. He gets a good amount of it on his fork before lifting it to your lips. You take it eagerly, humming.

"Well?" There's a certain antecipation on his tone.

"You're right, it tastes as good as it looks. Which is saying a lot."

"If you would like, I can cook it for you on another occasion."

Your eyes widen, the sincerity on his voice taking you by surprise.

"For free?"

"Of course, I wouldn't charge you for it. It would be my pleasure, truly."

"Then I accept! We could cook it together at Ramshackle sometime next week."

"That would be perfect."

"It's a date then." You wink at him, patting yourself on the back for your smoothness.

"Enjoying this one so much you can't wait for another?" He answers with a smirk, tilting his head, his earrings tilting alongside it.

"How could I not enjoy it with such a charming gentleman across me?"

"You will make me blush if you keep saying things like this, prefect."

"That means it's working! You'll fall in love with me in no time."

You chuckle, but Jade's gaze only softens. His eyes look so tender it makes your breath catch on your throat. You can't look away from him, from the way his smile curves just right.

"Can I bring the dessert now?" Floyd asks, making both of you turn to him in surprise. He scratches the back of his neck and stand casually at the end of the table as if he hadn't sneaked his way to it.

"We haven't finished eating yet."

"So?"

The twins hold eye contact for a few seconds, surely having some conversation you stand clueless about.

"So. You can bring it later."

"Ah? But it's ready, shouldn't I bring it now? Shrimpy would like it fresh, right? You were the one that said that!"

Jade sighs at his brother stubborness. You stifle another giggle.

"Floyd, I don't mind eating it a bit after it was done. I'd prefer to finish the main dish first."

"Hm, if Shrimpy says so. I'll see ya in a bit."

"Now he listens..." Jade comments as you both watch him leaving. The frustation in his voice is a little funny, honestly. You sip on your drink.

It goes on like this. As your conversation with Jade follows it's usual course, Azul and Floyd interrupt constantly, always with a different excuse. You can see Jade getting fed up with their antics, but as much as you sympatize with him, you can't help but find the whole thing rather amusing.

Dessert consists of a mouth watering strawberry shortcake, the whipped cream melting in your tongue, the strawberries, coated in sugar, fresh and sweet, the cake fluffy. You make a different pleased sound at every bite, savoring it to the max. Jade seems fixated on your reactions, not paying nearly as much attention to his own slice as he's doing to you.

The jazz on the background takes a slower rhythm, as if accompanying the passage of the night. You feel at ease, smiling at Jade once you finish eating your slice. His intent gaze on you holding an unspoken weight, affection shining through. It makes your own feelings scream at you to do something, and that's what you do. It feels right to take his hand resting onto the table and interwine your fingers with his.

The touch of your hands sends eletricity through his skin, shocking his heart. Your eyes are littered with stars as you look at him, the colorful sea life reflecting on them beautifully. You look beautiful. The way his name falls from your lips, dripping as sweet as honey, makes him want to hear you say it again and again. He's addicted to your charm, letting himself drown on it.

Jade wants to confess his feelings to you at that moment, spill his mushy insides in your palms, transfer the warmth from his chest to your cheeks. He licks his lips, glancing at yours looking so inviting and soft, and opens his mouth to say it, to give you the key to his heart, to trust you and give himself to you fully, to be frighteningly open.

Before a single word can make it past his throat, there's a loud crash on the background that breaks the moment, making you jump and look around in alarm. Never in his life has Jade felt so frustrated, teeth digging through his bottom lip so hard he feels the coppery taste of blood.

There's a hiss of Floyd's name and a slurred complaint of Azul's. The two emerge from the bar, looking slightly frazzled.

"Are you two ok?" You ask, more curious than concerned.

"Perfectly. No need to worry about us." Azul smooths out his shirt, not really looking you in the eyes.

"Shrimpy, when are you gonna make a move?" Floyd pouts, arms crossed.

Jade's glare is a promise of pain in the future for the two that dared to interrupt him once more. How could Azul and Floyd be so irritating when they were supposed to be helping him? He makes to get up and have a talk with them in private, being at the limit of his patience, but you hold his hand closer to yourself, making him stay put.

"If you two leave us to have a private moment I'll do it."

His eyes widen at your boldness, no hint of a joke in your tone.

"Bet. C'mon Azul, let's leave the lovebirds alone." Floyd basically drags Azul away with him, finally leaving the two of you.

"Prefect..."

You don't let him continue, bringing his hand closer to your heart, to the shell necklace, and taking a deep breath before letting it all out, looking at him in the eyes the entire time. You feel a rush of energy run through your nerves, the moment you've been waiting for finally having arrived.

"Jade, I really like you. I enjoy every moment I spend by your side, even when you can't give me your full attention. I know I'm in your thoughts and you're in mine, too. I love to hear you talking about your interests and I feel safe when I'm with you. You have my trust and my affections. My heart beats faster because of you. These are my heartfelt emotions. I'd be really happy if you feel the same for me, my pearl."

You close your eyes, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles, holding it tenderly. Your thumb press against his pulse point, relief flooding you at confirming it's as accelerated as your own. Your look at him through your lashes, seeing his face is coated in the pretty pink you love so much.

He calls you by your name, each letter molding perfectly to his lips, as if it was choosen to be said by him. "Do you have any idea of the effect you have on me?"

You smile gently, squeezing his hand and letting it go. "Hm, no, I don't think so. Please, elaborate on it."

Jade gets up from his seat, standing in front of you before kneeling down, taking your hand in a similar way you did with his.

"Jade, don't you think it's a bit early to ask for my hand in marriage?"

He chuckles, his face radiating so much fondness there's no doubt in your mind that he reciprocates. He takes your hand to cup his cheek while he speaks, nuzzling into it and looking up at you, making himself vulnerable, as close to a lovesick expression as you'd ever see on him.

"Dearest, I'm most devoted to you. There's not a day that passes by without you filling up my thoughts. You have carved your way into my heart in a way none were able to before. I want to give you anything you may wish for, as long as you'll give me the one thing I ask of you. Would you allow me the pleasure of belonging to you, just as you would belong to me?"

Your thumb brushes against his skin, passing through and pulling on his lips as your lidded eyes take them in. Jade lets you do as you please, a show of great trust from someone as guarded as him.

"Of course. I'd love to."

It's fascinating, the way a smile blooms on his face and his eyes light up, as if you had promised to give him the world. Perhaps you had, you just didn't know it. Your hand pulls him closer, making him get up and put his hands on your shoulders, leaning in, foreheads touching.

"I recall you saying something about wanting to hold me and kiss me, right? What are you waiting for?"

That makes him pause. "Wait. Were you listening to me on that day, at the botanical garden?"

"Maybe, maybe not, who knows." You sing song, the glint of amusement dancing in your eyes enough to answer him. He chuckles incredulously, wondering just how used to your presence he was to not have noticed you approaching him then.

"How secretive of you, prefect." He sounds proud as he says it. Maybe he's rubbing off on you after spending so much time together. "Very well. If that is what you wish for, I will do it." His thumb and forefinger hold onto your chin, tilting your head to meet his easier. "May I?" His low voice, laced with desire and yearning leaves you breathless before the kiss even has started. You whisper your consent, closing your eyes in antecipation.

Jade, the bastard, teases you by leaving a little kiss by the corner of your mouth before grazing his lips against yours in a feather like touch, making a needy noise leave your throat. You can feel his smile against your lips, his hot breath mixing with yours, his nose brushing against yours in a tender gesture before your lips finally meet with a firm yet gentle hold.

He tastes like strawberries. You let out a delighted groan, your hands coming up behind his head to play with his hair, pulling him even closer to you.

As he makes to pull away, you nibble on his lip, getting a surprising whine in response. It only fuels you, the sound reverbating through your head like a prayer. It sure felt like a holy experience, to get such a sound from him.

His face is flushed a pale pink and his hair is messy, lips red from kissing. It's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. You're sure you don't look much better, but you can't bring yourself to care, the ecstasy pumping your blood and making your heart race.

Your cheeks hurt from how wide they're being spread by your smile, one so sincere you couldn't fight it even if you wanted to. You brush your nose against his, making a loving sigh escape his lips.

"...How do you like it?" For once in his life, Jade Leech let's himself be vulnerable, completly at your mercy. You feel powerful, at the top of the world having him in your palms like that, drinking up the sight. Although you know, he's got you just as good.

"Strawberries."

There's confusion on his voice as he repeats the word, taken aback by how suddenly you said it, how firm your tone was. You bury your face on his neck, whispering your answer against his skin.

"You taste like strawberries. My favorite."

"Oh. I see it was a good idea to have strawberries on our dessert." There's the usual satisfied tone on his voice by knowing his plan was a success.

"You planned this?" You laugh, knowing you should have expected it from him. There is a buzzing of contentment swallowing you whole, fondness swimming in your chest.

"Naturally. I wanted it to be a most joyous experience."

"Well, you succeded. You taste delicious." You lick your lips for extra effect, nuzzling your head on his neck and leaving a little bite. "Still do."

You can feel the shivers of his skin against your lips. You pull on his hair a bit and hear the yearning sigh he lets out. It's exhilirating. You pull away, coming face to face with his lovely infatuated expression, one reserved just for you.

"One more?"

"As you wish, my dear."

Your lips meet once more, the pressure of his against yours making you light headed. It's wonderful, he's wonderful. You could get used to this.

Unfortunately, the moment is broken by the loud cheers and polite clapping from the backgroung. Floyd whistles as Azul congratulates you two. Jade's hands' grip on your shoulders tightens and you can feel the annoyance from before coming back tenfold, his red and swollen lips not making his sadistic smile any less treathining.

"And just what do the two of you think you are doing? Haven't you interrupted enough?"

Your head falls back on his shoulder, not being able to hold your laughter anymore, your giggles against his ear making him soften the slightest bit, almost enough to forgive the two noisy merman. Almost.

He could deal with them later. Right now, he had much better things to do, as your breath tickling his neck reminds him.

Jade Leech is not one for sentimentalism... perhaps he could make an exception for you.

Masterlist

#one eye on my silly x reader fic and the other on the presidential debate #READER HAS GOT GAME #HELP IT'S 1AM AND I HAVE TO WAKE UP AT 4AM #I just want to say this is my most self indulgent fic as of yet and I'm incredibly fond of it #wonderland wonder #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech #twst #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twst jade leech #tumblr show this in the tags challenge

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irafuwas · 1 year

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Now that I finished putting up my translations for chapter 1 of Book 7 over on my translation blog, I wanted to come here and jot down some of my thoughts/observations/questions/ramblings I had while going through everything. Putting this under a read more 'cause it contains spoilers.

Anime Girl Lilia doing the "Oh no, I'm late!" bit was perfect

Malleus said he's been alone since long before he hatched from his egg, which provides credence to the idea that his parents had already passed away before he was born

Lilia said the house he raised Silver in was just a vacant home he came across in the woods. So did he have another home in town that he just chose not to live in or something? The guy's a decorated war hero so I would presume he'd have a proper house in the castle town, so why did he choose to raise baby Silver in a random, abandoned home he found in the middle of the forest?

Squatter Lilia confirmed

I think Lilia's weapon that Sebek found while cleaning out Lilia's closet is going to play an important role later in the story. They went of their way to draw up art for it and it was, like, the main focus of a whole episode so I feel they are drawing attention to it for a reason. The special characteristic of this weapon is that the stone blade is adorned with a magic type of metal that changes shape in response to the owner's magical powers. Maybe Silver will take up the sword from/for his Father later on, and it will transform in some way? Possible future Mulan reference?

I haven't been able to puzzle out if Lilia's beloved acorn bracelet is a reference to anything in particular. I can't think of any Disney movies where something like that was featured. Can you guys think of anything? It's literally just a bunch of nasty old acorns tied together with a piece of string, and Lilia said that even Malleus is jealous that Lilia has it.

It's absolutely and positively way too suspicious that Lilia is trying to leave so quickly and suddenly. I feel like whatever secret he's keeping from anyone is about to come to a head and that's why he's trying to exit stage left so quickly. Or maybe if he were to stay with everyone, it would be putting them at risk somehow? Idk I just don't believe his "i'M olD aNd mY mAgiC raN oUT" story for a moment.

I really don't think Malleus himself realizes his own feelings of loneliness. So often, he will say that he's used to being alone and that he prefers it (and he does indeed often split off from groups in order to do his own thing), but I don't he's conceptualized quite yet that yeah, he gets lonely sometimes. I feel his loneliness, and possibly that of the other Diasomnia crew will be the defining theme of this book (Silver's loneliness in his ephemeral humanity, Lilia's loneliness as a broken ex-soldier, and Sebek's loneliness in not having a place to belong in either side of his family (humans fear his fae-nature, and the fae despise his human blood)).

Loved the shoutout to Elsa with Malleus accidentally scaring others with his ice powers and almost turning his home (the castle) into ice forever. If/when he does attempt to prevent the people around him from leaving him behind, I'm now curious if it will purely be a sleeping curse or if his ice powers will also be involved as well? Maybe a combo of the two?

If Malleus is Elsa, who is his Anna?

One of the "rules" for TWST books is that whoever overblotted in the last book will use their Unique Magic to aid the main characters of the next book in someway. All Idia's UM does is just open and close the gate to the underworld, so I'm a bit concerned how that will come into play later on... Could Lilia's story about wanting to go to the Land of Red Dragons just be a cover up, and his true destination is... idk but somebody gonna end up getting trapped in the underworld or something and it better not be Silver 😡

#twst spoilers #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #twst theory #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #diasomnia #silver #txt #twisted wonderland

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givemethesleep · 1 year

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The League of Extraordinary Wizards

The Not Entirely Comprehensive Guide to Sleep’s AU the NPCs of the Spiral Cast.

Disclaimer - This is all AU stuff, and was initially written out to be something of like.... a hypothetical Wizard101 DLC? If you dislike it, that’s totally fine!!! If you like it, let me know!!! A good thing to read, especially as I begin uploading my writing (maybe.) ANYWHO- [Has not been proofread cause I’m tired]

The League of Extraordinary Wizards is an organisation established by a sorcerer named Amira Crane 25 years before the main events of the game, endorsed by Headmaster Ambrose. This group of skilled magicians help to tutor, guide and mentor Ravenwood students who show extreme promise. Amira initially created this group to provide extension for her son Spencer, who now runs the League in his mother’s ill health. For each year of students coming through Ravenwood Academy, one student is nominated by their professor to represent their School of Magic and receive advanced classes, as well as opportunities to do work to help the Wizard City community - and later help people Spiral wide. Even some familiar faces have that elusive lifelong League membership under their belts (How else would Malorn have been brought to the attention of Headmaster Ambrose after the incident with the Death School? And Ceren being on Unicorn Way when it was blocked to students?) Though perhaps under that pristine, perfect surface, things aren’t quite what they seem....

There are a couple of other headcanons that come alongside this AU that I’m going to post about separately (since they’re pretty rambly) but some things you should know that don’t require a whole lot of depth to make sense :

Mana is found all over every universe, but magic users tend to be found in areas with high mana concentrations, or who actively interacted with mana-rich environments

Time moves differently on Earth than in the Spiral, which explains why wizards from Earth don’t return home. For each year in the Spiral, 3 years pass on Earth. So while a Wizard from Earth ages 10 years in the Spiral, family members will have aged 30.

The ability to manipulate, carry and create mana for the use of spells comes from a mutation in DNA from long term mana exposure, allowing or the production of mana creating and mana carrying proteins (shoutout to my biology teacher for this one)

- However, building on that, it’s not uncommon that these genes and proteins are faulty or simply not present, which is why very few of the Wizard City Guards are active magic users.

Arcs 1-3 take 13 years, and for the sake of aging and consistency and stuff, ages listed below are characters ages at the start of Arc 1

Admittedly, this AU was an excuse to Make Little Guys and Put Them In Situations, but pretty much every OC on this list has at least one questline attached to them and some even have work as Vendors or otherwise help the Young Wizard/Player Character - so if anyone catches your eye, send me an ask about their quest or them in general!! (I’ll be doing a Pirate version of this post soon, so stay tuned for that also!)

CAST LIST (aka Sleep has too many characters. Feel free to skip!)

STAFF

Amira Crane

, she/her, late 60s, Sorcerer - Rarely seen but quite well known, Amira is the founder of The League. Has fallen ill early in the game, and surrendered leadership to her son.

Spencer Crane

, he/him, 39, Pyromancer - Current head of The League, a mildly unpleasant man, who cares for three things above all. Wealth, Reputation, and his young daughter.

Jomana SandTamer

, she/her, 24, Sorcerer - Skilled sorcerer and Sun trainer, Jomana is one of the three main points of contact that students have with Spencer. Probably helps that she looks considerably younger, though she’s been sleeping for hundreds of years in Krokotopia.

- Janus SoulMask

, they/he, 23, Diviner - Janus was born on Earth in the 1970s and taken to Earth in the early ‘80s, and sometimes it shows in the slang they use. Takes particular care for children who came of their own free will (read - manipulated) to the Spiral like himself. Also the resident Moon trainer

Grizelda GriffinTamer

, she/they, 23, Pyromancer/Thaumaturge - Being raised on the skyways by a bunch of Grizzleheim pirates doesn’t make you particularly friendly, though Zelda tries her best. The students can be pests sometimes, so if her office is empty chances are she went home early. Teaches Star spells to League students.

- Melora TaleThief

, they/she, 29, Conjurer - Raised by an adventurer, the League’s secretary is full of anecdotes, when you can get them to talk. In later levels, however, she reveals a skill with shadow magic and offers her tutelage - illegally, of course. Ambrose and Spencer both would have a fit.

Class 25, Same Year as the Young Wizard*

- Dorothy RubyTalon

, she/her, 13, Pyromancer - From a wealthy and influential family on Firecat Alley. For the sake of comedy, her family is named alphabetically. Academic Rivals with Jordan.

- Jordan WinterHeart,

he/him, 13, Thaumaturge - From a similarly wealthy and respected family on Colossus Boulevard. Has three younger sisters and a cousin he cares deeply for. Rivals with Dorothy, but is a lot less enthusiastic about it.

- Blaine SilverStone

, they/he/she, 13, Diviner - Grew up on Triton with their single mother, entertaining himself by tinkering, crafting and inventive. Incredibly creative, but runs their mouth more than necessary. Thinks they have one pet bat - there are several bats living in the roof and Blaine thinks that Maurice is simply really fast.

- Luis DawnCaller,

he/him, 13, Sorcerer - Though initially reserved and independent, Luis is very well rounded for a sorcerer. Very polite! Adopted by a pair of Marleybonian Airship makers who love him very much.

Tatiana RoseThorn

, she/her, 13, Theurgist - Sent to Ravenwood to study and avoid following her mother into servitude in Darkmoor, Tatiana is fiercely protective of herself, and her independence and desperation for power and approval make her a terrible team mate or support player.

- Brynn DrakeHeart

, she/they, 13, Necromancer - Born to Dragonspyre refugees, Brynn’s connection to death isn’t her favourite feature about herself, though she has an intense love and interest in her history and heritage. Was selected by Jomana with Malorn’s input in the absence of a Death Professor.

- Esmee DreamWalker

, she/her, 13, Conjuror - A half-fairy from Avalon, Esmee is a diligent and hardworking conjuror, who wants to make her professor and her mother proud. She writes home often, and has a love of creatures and their stories.

Class 26

Deirdre SunCatcher,

she/her, 12, Pyromancer - One of Esmee’s childhood best friends, she would spend her days watching her father at the forge back in their village in Avalon. She wants nothing more to be useful, and is very kind and protective of her friends.

Isabella WinterMask

, she/her, 12, Thaumaturge - Her mother was a cobbler and her father a journalist in Marleybone. She’s very inquisitive - almost too much for her own good. Very excited about meeting a real life fairy.

Gabriel DawnSpear,

he/they/it, Unknown, Diviner - A Celestian construct meant to simulate hut a human would act with the learning capabilities of a Celestian. When the Marleybonians began messing around, ‘Gabriel’ was taken out of storage, and upon activation began looking for new things to learn and catalogue. One unwatched Spiral Door and a few weeks in Wizard City later, Gabriel enrols himself into the school of Storm and passes as a skilled diviner - allowing him acceptance to the League. Lets hope their identity doesn’t get outed to the public...

- Samuel PathFinder,

he/him, 12, Sorcerer - Having grown up on a farm on Earth and having been taken to the Spiral at the very beginnings of That Virus, coming into this new environment made Sam pretty skittish, and is almost solely a support for his companions. Makes an effort to protect his classmates how he can.

- Madison FairyBlood,

she/her, 13, Theurgist - After being expelled halfway through her first year at Pigswick, Madison was sent to repeat her first year at Ravenwood with her Uncle Chester’s punishments hanging over her head. Uncomfortably nasty and violent for a Life Wizard.

- Cole Raven,

he/him, 12, Necromancer - He doesn’t talk much about his past besides growing up in Grizzelheim, in your typical edgy teenaged fashion, and though Cole is a skilled necromancer and could prove useful in group settings, he is very strict in isolating himself from his classmates from one reason or another.

- Jesse DarkWood, he/him. 12, Conjuror - Son of Victor Darkwood in the robes shop, Jesse has a sense of responsibility and a cool and calm demeanour. He’s a natural born leader, and there isn’t a whole lot that can ruffle his feathers - besides the undead.

Schismists (ages from Arc 2)

- Emmaline FrostFlower,

she/they, 15, Thaumaturge - Younger cousin to Jordan WinterHeart, Emmaline has a serious need to be seen, be listened to, to be respected. She needs to be important to be worth something, and recreating the first world and having a position of leadership under Spider seems like the perfect plan. While the Old One tries to make amends, Emma gathers the interests of people put out by the sudden change of plans.

- Valkoor TitanBlood,

he/him, 15, Necromancer - Tatiana’s cousin, though they don’t talk, and another child sent from a life of servitude. The only person who’s interests Valkoor is willing to protect is his own, and by extension Spiders. Very flashy and dramatic!

- Lukas BattleBringer,

he/him, 15?, Pyromancer - In an attempt to escape the horrors of the fighting pits, Luke accidentally knocks out a travelling pyromancer in fear and steals her robes and spellbook. Hidden in a cave, the satyr tried to master rudimentary spells like Firecat and Fire Elf before getting picked up and tutored by Emmaline and Valkoor under the protection of other schismists.

Miscellaneous (Ages from Arc 1)

- Stephanie DragonWhisper,

she/her, 15, Theurgist - Earth Wizard from remote Australia, she was almost too quick to step through the portal to Merle’s office. After a rough few weeks getting settled and the onset of Professor Sylvia Drake’s illness, she makes friends with other students in her class and in other schools, and is taken under the wing of Zeke and Eloise who all but formally adopt this troubled but inquisitive young girl. She goes on to act as a hint base and sparring partner for the Young Wizard and takes on an Arcanum internship and an admission to the Council of Light in the later worlds.

- Sean IceWeilder,

- Olivia O’Doyle,

he/him/they?, 15, Thaumaturge - Another Earth Wizard, taken to the Spiral a few weeks after his now best friend Stephanie. He’s a bit of a clumsy Ice wizard, but his proficiency in wards has proven useful. He and Stephanie are an iconic duo that can be spotted in every world, just like Zeke and Eloise!

- Louella PixieHunter, she/her, 14, Necromancer - 5th and final Earth Wizard on this list, Louella turned down an offer to be the death school representative for Class 24 of The League and has stong negative feelings about the institution and its almost elitist attitudes.

she/her, 22, Thaumaturge Dropout - Daughter of the dye shop keeper and the guard outside of Colossus, Olivia was the designated babysitter for her cousin Mindy, Jesse Darkwood, and the WinterHeart kids when they were little. Now she helps her mother run the Dye Shop and helps Emmaline with her shopping when she’s too busy. Is dating Janus.

- Noelle, Lumi and Gwendolyn Winterheart,

all she/her, 11/9/6 respectively - Jordan’s younger sisters and Emmaline’s cousins.

- Nochtli,

he/him, 28, Theurgist - A blue triceratops Aztecosaur and gardening enthusiast with several quests regarding conservation with the approach of Xibalba. He’s very sweet!

- Sandra O’Connell,

- Snuggles,

she/her, 35, N/A - Esmee’s mother and widow of King Artorius’ knights Sir Morgrim Wyrmbane.

- Tarmi, she/they, 27, Thaumaturge/Necromancer - Wallaru sharkmer, feared in her community as a dark witch communing with spirits. Some even go so far as to accuse her of kidnapping! Though in truth, she just wants to be left alone in her cave to study her magic.

he/him, 5, N/A - Stephanie DragonWhisper’s pet Forest Basilisk. Neediest pet known to man. Hates Ceren, loves anyone else. Has Lore.

*(Note: The Wizard either does not get nominated because they’re too busy saving the world, OR get wedged in last minute alongside the representative of their School)

SO THIS TOOK ME LIKE 8 HOURS TO WRITE. I am taking questions and clarifying stuff as needed! Any and all support would be appreciated, and I look forward to hopefully sharing more stuff with you soon!

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magicofthepen · 3 years

Note

Tell us about Making Out Is Not a Healthy Coping Mechanism and Aro Solidarity: That Platonic Fake Married Fic, please?

Send me a WIP doc title (list here) and I’ll talk about it!

I love that you asked about these two because they’re both Romana and Narvin fics, but quite different takes on their relationship!

The quick explanations (I’m gonna put the long ramble-y ones under a cut):

Making Out Is Not a Healthy Coping Mechanism: Narvin/Romana, post-Devil You Know. Stressed, grieving Time Lords are trying to run the CIA in the middle of a war, there are the added factors of Narvin’s exhausted anger and Romana’s exhausted guilt around Leela’s mission, everyone is very bad at talking about anything. They end up kissing rather by accident, and it’s very emotionally fraught and no one wants to think about or discuss the implications.

Aro Solidarity: That Platonic Fake Married Fic: Narvin & Romana, set shortly after Enemy Lines, a combo of "accidentally getting stuck in a fake married situation apparently counts as workplace bonding?” “I don’t typically headcanon Romana as aro but I could totally see it and I really want to write about it!” and “I don’t typically headcanon Narvin as aro but I could totally see it and I really want to write about it!”

The (very) long ramble-y versions:

Making Out Is Not a Healthy Coping Mechanism

I love exploring time gaps in Romana and Narvin’s relationship (that nine month gap between Forever and Emancipation where they’re on their own as President and Chancellor! that Enemy Lines to Time War gap where they clearly build a really great partnership in the CIA together!), but one of the gaps I haven’t written a fic about yet is the time between The Devil You Know and Desperate Measures (I’ve referenced that time frame in my Time War 3 fic, but I haven’t actually Gotten Into It).

Because the ending of The Devil You Know is extremely tense, and we never really see that immediate interpersonal fallout? So I want to write something set in this time frame, when they’re both stressed and terrified for Leela, but they can’t really lean on each other because Narvin’s angry at Romana for pushing for the mission and Romana’s blaming herself for pushing for the mission (“What have I done?”), but they’re both putting up a We Have a Job To Do front and pretending they’re okay at work and.....yeah.

There’s also been a certain degree of unspoken romantic attraction between them for a while (perhaps they haven’t even admitted it to themselves) because navigating their professional and personal relationship is complicated enough as it is without introducing another element. Also they’re both very good at “let’s shove feelings down and not talk about them.” (I have so many takes on Romana and Narvin’s relationship, but during Time War I get such simultaneous “old married couple” and “haven’t actually admitted to feelings” vibes from them, and I want to write about that.)

So they’re both very isolated and hurting in their own ways and there’s this background unaddressed Thing between them, and eventually everything just comes to a head. And I haven’t actually written this fic yet, I just have notes and keep playing through this scene in my head in different ways, so I don’t know the details about what will happen? Not sure if there’s going to be a proper fight, if they’re actually going to get into the blame question around Leela’s disappearance, not sure how much of that grief they’re actually going to show?

The bottom line is: they end up crossing paths in Leela’s rooms (where they both occasionally go to have an emotional breakdown), they’re exhausted and every emotional boundary they need to keep up because they work together is crumbling away, and they end up kissing. But it’s not exactly a positive development, more of a “this is easier than talking” sort of thing. Also I haven’t decided what their exact relationships with Leela were (in the context of this fic), but either they were each in a relationship with Leela or they each have feelings for Leela but never admitted it? But regardless, they both Know that the other has feelings for Leela, and so there’s an added dynamic of them both thinking “obviously this means nothing to you because it’s not me you’re interested in, and you’re only doing this because you’re missing her, and so obviously I’m going to pretend it means nothing to me, too.” So it’s just poor communication bad times all around!

I don’t actually know how/if this resolves? I don’t think they’d have a proper conversation at this point in the audios, but I’m not sure if I’m just going to end this fic on “welp that happened” or if there’s going to be some kind of emotional shift/release of tension somehow? (There will probably need to be because their relationship in Desperate Measures and TW2 is quite good overall, so I probably won’t leave things in this tense place?) But again, this fic isn’t written yet, so everything is pretty up in the air.

Aro Solidarity: That Platonic Fake Married Fic

Arguably, this is more of a concept than an actual wip, but even though I may never actually write it, I do love it dearly?

I’ve been wanting to write something with aromantic Romana for a while - and this might sound strange coming from me, aka someone who’s written a variety of shippy Romana fic and can very easily interpret her feelings and relationships with other characters as romantic, but I so often have multiple contradictory headcanons for characters that live in different pockets of my brainspace.

My aro Romana thoughts are mainly fueled by series 4, because whenever marriage/romance comes up around alternate versions of herself, she’s always fairly surprised and baffled and gives the impression that it’s not something she’s ever considered? And in general, she’s kinda awkward and uncomfortable whenever there’s flirting happening (which could just be the circumstances or her personality, but could also be interpreted as her not clicking with romantic gestures). And of course while fandom ships her with many characters in the dw universe, she’s never stated to be romantically interested in anyone (well. I suppose that depends on your thoughts about how canon the Prime computer ads are, but putting that aside.......). Not that there has to be overt evidence for headcanons, but I do think there’s a solid canon-based argument for aro Romana, you know?

And part of me really likes the interpreting Romana’s friendships as totally platonic because the intense Friendship-as-Love-Story journey is there already, that’s what the audios are giving us! And I don’t really see that kind of centering of deep, spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you friendship in media and it’s so good! (Related point (I know I say this a lot, but it bears repeating): I do very much ship the ot3, but am also very much into reading all of the main trio’s relationships as totally platonic – and I never actually want those relationships to be romantic in the audios themselves.) And I’ve had Thoughts for a while about how for Romana the big important line is between professional and personal relationships, and whether the personal relationship is romantic or platonic is probably less significant. So I could see her as someone who either doesn’t experience romantic attraction at all or just doesn’t distinguish between romantic and platonic attraction. What’s important is the distinction between professional relationships and intimate personal relationships – separating out the nature of that personal intimacy isn’t really something she does?

So anyways, I’ve been wanting to write something that explores Romana being aromantic, but for a while, I didn’t really have a vision for what kind of fic I wanted to write?

Separately, I’ve had the “platonic fake married” idea kicking around in my head for a while. The “post-Enemy Lines” time period is so fascinating to me when it comes to Romana and Narvin’s relationship because somehow they go from “Romana’s just swooped in and taken Narvin’s job that he’s worked hard for his entire life” to the genuinely solid friendship and team dynamic we see in the Time War audios? So I’m fascinated by that journey from things probably being very emotionally fraught and a lot of tension and stepping on each others’ toes to working really well together. And somehow, at some point, my brain went: what if new CIA Coordinator Romana and Deputy Coordinator Narvin who aren’t getting along very well accidentally end up in an off-world situation where they have to pretend to be married? (My brain also went: I’m not sure I could handle writing the secondhand embarrassment of this situation, but also I’m very into the idea of a Narvin & Romana platonic fake married fic that ends up functioning as a “how do we save our friendship?” story.)

And then more recently, I realized I also really wanted to write something with aromantic Narvin. There aren’t necessarily specific moments fueling this headcanon (as much as with Romana), but it definitely comes from a similar “I really like interpreting Narvin’s friendships as totally platonic because the intense Friendship-as-Love-Story journey is there already!” place.

You know that “I have feelings for you” / “The feeling was “friendship” but neither had ever experienced it” quote? Yeah, that pretty accurately captures my thought process when it comes to aro Narvin. He genuinely doesn’t seem to have experienced friendship before Romana and Leela, so it’s very plausible to me that he assumed he was experiencing romantic attraction at some point but nope, he just really loves his friends and is experiencing really intense platonic affection for the first time. (This is also me going ‘I know this is a wildly unpopular opinion, but I’m totally down to interpret Erasure as platonic.’)

Anyways, at some point recently all three things fused together in my brain, and I went: what if new CIA Coordinator Romana and Deputy Coordinator Narvin who aren’t getting along very well end up in a situation where they have to pretend to be married.....and also they’re both aromantic? Writing a fic like this feels like an excellent opportunity to actually sit down and have a think about ‘what are the cultural associations and expectations around romance on Gallifrey?’ (‘what does being aromantic mean by Gallifreyan standards?’) And ‘what are romantic associations and expectations on whatever planet they’re on?’ And the potential bonding experience of two aromantic people trying to navigate those layers of expectation, while also grappling with the interpersonal tension in their friendship and slowly learning to communicate better in the process....this is a very interesting story to me!

No, I have not actually figured out the details of the off-world diplomatic situation/mission they would accidentally end up in that would require this, and thus I probably won’t get around to it for a while. Also this would probably be a longfic and I’m trying to stick to a ‘one big project at a time!’ rule, and my current big project is the post-Time War fic, and then fantasy au has been waiting its turn for so long (and actually has, y’know, plot points). But I simply love this concept, and so I’m keeping the doc in case I maybe figure out a way to keep the fic short, or get a particularly good idea and decide that I really want to write it? (But also – if someone else wants to run with this concept, please do!)

This has been such a long answer to your ask, whoops, but thank you so much for giving me the excuse to ramble on about all of these things!!

#sparklingdocta #again thank you for sending this!! <3 #also this is the last ask i have for this meme but if people want to send more I’m v down to talk about my fics!#gallifrey audios #narvin x romana #in both a romantic and a platonic sense because i will never pick a single interpretation of their relationship i love them all #shoutout to anyone who reads through all of this it is quite a ramble :)#asks #ramblings

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maneskin-dimensione · 3 years

Text

l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto: Part 1.

Summary: Unbeknownst to you both, paparazzi photograph you and Victoria while on your way back from a date night. When you find out in the morning, the two of you have very different ideas of how to handle the situation.

Victoria de Angelis x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4165.

Warning: Angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics, mention of someone called ‘A’ - Damiano’s girlfriend (In my fics) is mentioned in this fic and I decided to call her ‘A’ because how else would they refer to her imao; it all makes sense in my head tbh.

Author’s note: So here it is! I’ve been working on this for so long that I can’t actually believe it’s finished! I’m so proud of this. This fic was written as one whole piece but it’s apparently too long for tumblr, so I’ve had to split it into two. I’m really proud of this fic, as I’ve already said imao and I’m sad I have to split it up,so please enjoy: likes, comments and reblogs honestly fuel me and make my day so please let me know if you liked it and if you’d like to be tagged in anything I may write in the future; It’ll also convince me to post part 2! Also, if you are tagged and do not wish to be then drop me a message and I’ll remove you, so I’m not clogging up your notifications.

I just want to give a MASSIVE shoutout to the amazing @selenophiliaxx, who has been there since the very start of the fic, listened to me ramble on and on and read as much of it as I gave her and was always there when I messaged, no matter how long it took me to get back to her. Her feedback was invaluable and this fic honestly wouldn’t be complete or even written without her so thank you SO so much, this fic is for you, @selenophiliaxx !

Taglist: @selenophiliaxx , @mywritingonlyfans, @daddydamiano , @cries-in-maneskin, @superchrystaldrug , @bidet-and-legolas , @illicitfuck, @pinklyrium, @teenyweenynightghost, @thomasraggilovebot, @tabi-toast, @le-parolelontane, @alittlebitofrosesandlillies

"I can't believe this!"

You sat there, watching as Victoria paced up and down your shared bedroom, holding her phone in one hand and raking her free hand through her hair; she turned to face you.

"I don't understand how they even saw us! I swear we were alone when we came home last night. I didn't see anyone lurking in the shadows. Did you?"

You could see the confusion, the frustration in her eyes and all you wanted was to stand up and wrap her in your arms, but the first time you'd tried to do that...well, she wasn't all that receptive, shrugging you off to resume her pacing.

"Fottuti paparazzi." she continued, ignoring the fact that you'd opened your mouth to reply to her. "Giuro su Dio, non ho mai odiato niente di più di quei serpenti che ti inseguono per cercare di ottenere una storia. Solo perché sono sotto gli occhi del pubblico non dà loro il diritto di fare questo a me, a noi!"

You sighed again, eyes dropping to your hands and your chipped nail polish, wishing that all the drama would stop and you could go back to the dreamy haze of last night.

You giggled, grasping onto Victoria's hand as she led you down the quiet side street. Both of you were tipsy from the drink you'd consumed but were happy and full, having spent the night at your friend's house. It had been the first time Victoria had met someone you'd deemed "Important" in your life and it had gone swimmingly well - she'd been more worried than you and insisted on a "Good luck" drink before you'd left Maneskin house together.

"I'm glad they liked me." Vic murmured to you, pulling your joined hands up so she could plant a kiss against your knuckles. "I might not have seemed it, dolcezza, but I was really quite nervous."

You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. "Oh really? I didn't notice. I told you had nothing to worry about; they just want me to be happy with someone who treats me right and..." you trailed off, blushing slightly. "I am."

Victoria smiled back at you, her eyes light with affection and the effect of the drink that she'd consumed through the night, and pulled you to a stop, looping her arms around your waist and pulling you flush against her.

"I make you happy, huh?" she teased, lifting one hand to brush your hair from your face, "Aw, am I making you blush, la mia bella ragazza?"

You didn't answer her, just smiled bashfully at the shoes she had chosen for the occasion; you, weirdly, couldn't bring yourself to look at her...she made you feel a way that no one had ever before.

"You make me happy too, you know?" she said, quietly, softly, her voice as soft as the wind that caught her hair. "I thought I could only feel this level of happiness while I was on stage but you've proven me wrong."

Your blush darkened and you felt her squeeze your waist.

"I don't want this night to end." you sigh. "It's just been so good. I love to have you like this. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love sharing you with the world; you're too much of a star to keep hidden but I do like having you to myself too."

Victora's soft smile turned into a smirk. "Well, tonight doesn't have to end, amore. Come home with me."

You blinked at her, biting your lip. "Are you sure?"

You'd been to Maneskin house plenty of times, spending the day there and attending their small group parties, but you had never stayed the night before. It's not that Victoria hadn't asked you, because she had - several times in fact - but you hadn't wanted to rush anything, you'd wanted to take it slow...build up to it, make sure it was something worth building up to because you still - after all this time - couldn't believe that someone like Victoria de Angelis was interested in someone like you.

But tonight, you wanted to believe. Tonight, you didn't want to refuse. Tonight you wanted to go home with her, sleep in the same bed as her, wake up next to her the next morning and kiss her awake and bond with her bandmates over breakfast in the kitchen while exchanging good-hearted gossip at Victoria's expense.

That's what you wanted and here she was, offering it to you on a silver plater.

"More than sure." Vic smiled and you swore it could rival the sun. She held out her hand. "What do you say?"

Smiling, with butterflies in your stomach, you took her hand and allowed her to lead you towards Maneskin house.

....

You'd woken up that morning, naked and tangled in Victoria's embrace, the sun shining through the peaks in the heavy curtains that had been haphazardly pulled across while the pair of you had stumbled about in the dark, trying (and probably failing) to be quiet when she'd pushed you against the wall, pressed herself against you and attacked you with kisses that you could lose yourself in.

This morning, she'd kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your chin and your nose good morning before finally giving you the kiss you'd really wanted, deep and soft, successfully taking your breath away and making your morning before it had even really begun.

The two of you had eventually emerged from bed, you clad in one of Vic's sleepshirts that she kept around just for you. She was always a lot more comfortable to sleep topless and you admired her confidence but you weren't really in the same boat so whenever you came over for movie night or just to hang out with her, Vic would always have a soft shirt with your name on it.

You'd stumbled down to the kitchen, Vic stopping you every so often to plant a kiss on you: your lips, your cheek or jaw, wherever she could reach, resulting in the pair of you being giggling messes walking into the kitchen and earning you some surprised looks from the other 4 occupants: Damiano, his girlfriend, Thomas and Ethan.

Vic had just strolled over to the fridge, throwing out a friendly "Good Morning!" to her bandmates and pulling out the orange juice, turning to hand the apple juice carton to you. You'd blushed bright red at the stares from Damiano, Ethan and Thomas, but you couldn't help but admire your girlfriend's confidence as she strutted back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"So, what's for breakfast then?"

You'd enjoyed the morning from that moment on. All six of you sitting around the dining room, breakfast plates loaded up and music playing from the old record player that sat in the corner, exchanging stories of time on tour and the antics that Victoria would get up to whenever she visited Denmark. You felt like you belonged with them almost, like you belonged in their lives and in their worlds. You saw the way they acted with each other and how they always made you to include you in their conversations so you didn't feel like a spare part.

But when the clock had stuck 12 noon, the happy, warm little bubble you had been happily encased in was rudely and brutally popped.

You, Vic and Ethan had been lounging in the pool, Damiano and his girlfriend tanning themselves on the sun loungers, talking quietly between themselves, hands interlocked and swinging back and forth, while Thomas had been strumming his guitar while sitting at the table, his feet up, looking peaceful and content.

You turned to send a wave of water towards your girlfriend when Leo emerged from the house, waving off the excited greetings that everyone called out when they spotted him. He stopped in front of the pool, his gaze slipping to you momentarily before turning to focus on Vic, phone in hand.

"You need to see this," is all he said.

.....

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Your head popped up at Victoria's voice, suddenly a lot calmer. Your eyes met and she searched yours as she stood over you, hands on her hips.

"I-I don't know." your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but if she noticed she didn't comment, choosing instead to pace again. "What do you want to do about it?"

Vic scoffed, "I want to issue a denial."

You felt the world around you begin to spin as Victoria carried on talking, her hands moving around, but your brain couldn't comprehend what else she was saying, it could only focus on the six words she'd just said.

‘I want to issue a denial.’

You swallowed. "W-what about what I want? Surely I have the right to an opinion on this situation too?"

Vic sighed, stopping her movements again and turning to look at you. "Of course you do, cucciola, but I just think this is the best thing to do."

"But a denial?" you asked now, standing up to face her. "What would that even achieve, Vic? What would we be denying anyway, the fact that we're a couple? The fact that you have somebody?"

"Look, I don't know!" Vic pulled her hands through her hair and sighed, glancing down at the floor and then back up with you. "I just don't want these photos getting out, okay? Merda, we should have been more careful."

You raised your eyebrows. "More careful how? We didn't even know that they were there. What do you suggest, hm? Not acting like a couple in public? Not touching, not even looking at each other?"

"What? Christ, grow up will you?"

"Look, Victoria." you rubbed your forehead and glanced over at her, her eyes wide; you hardly ever called her Victoria and it weirdly unnerved her. "I don't think this denial's a good idea, really I don't. I just don't see what we're denying and I honestly think it'll do more harm than good. Please listen to me when I tell you that I don't want to do this."

"I just want to protect us." she insisted, already typing on her phone. "I want to protect you."

You smiled thinly, your eyes hard and shook your head. "No. You just want to protect yourself."

....

Your eyes were firmly on the ripples of the pool, watching as Chili sniffed around the edge before barking at each move of the water. You needed this, space and quiet from the tension in the house, your ears still ringing from your disagreement with Victoria; the last thing you wanted was to fight with her, but she was just so stubborn.

"Posso sedermi con te?"

You glanced up from your musings to meet the eyes of Damiano peering down on you, a cigarette in one hand and two bottles of beer in the other, one of which he offered to you. It was strange for you to see him alone; usually if his girlfriend was able to visit (like she was now), he was almost surgically attached to her hip.

You nodded, and he slipped into the chair beside you. The two of you sat in silence for a while, you sipping at your beer and Damiano taking drags of his cigarette. It was peaceful, before Damiano broke it.

"Are you okay?"

You shrugged, silent for a moment longer before you turned to him. He was watching you, eyes full of concern. "Where's Vic?"

"I heard her on the phone to someone." he frowned, "I don't know who."

You scoffed but nodded, taking a healthy sip of your drink.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You shrugged again. "Honestly, I want to drink about it."

Damiano nodded and silence washed over the pair of you.

"While I'm not condoning it," Damiano began, glancing over at you. "and I don't necessarily agree with her, I understand why a denial is what Victoria wants. She saw how it was with A and I."

You peered at him, your curiosity peaked. You hadn't been around during Maneskin's Eurovision Era. "How was it with you and A? How did it happen?"

Damiano smiled slightly. "I thanked her while I was tipsy at the Eurovision winner's press conference. We hadn't even talked about going public before I opened my mouth."

You widened your eyes, "I bet she was pissed?"

Damiano's smile turned into a smirk. "Well, she couldn't be too mad at me. We had just won Eurovision, after all. The day after I got home on the other hand..."

You hummed. "She doesn't complain though. Or at least, I've never heard her."

Damiano grinned. "She does sometimes when it gets really bad, but it's been almost a year now since I let it slip and it calmed down eventually."

"Why did you do it? Blurt it out like that in the middle of a press conference?"

He shrugged, head tilted, considering." So many different reasons. Because I was drunk and happy. Because she was the reason we looked so good that night. Because she wasn't with us and I missed her and wanted her to share in our success. But mainly because," he sighed, "Because I was sick of hiding it, of hiding us. I wanted everyone to know that I had an amazing person behind the scenes who had played a big part in us getting to Eurovision in the first place. There was so much speculation anyway and I was so sick of the rumours about Vic and me. It wasn't fair to any of us so I just wanted to set the record straight and couldn't think of a better place to do it."

You took a sip of your drink and glanced at him again. "Was it really difficult, the press knowing?"

Damiano nodded. "When I first let it slip, it wasn't too bad because I hadn't named her, I just said I had a girlfriend. Of course the press wanted answers but the two of us became quite good at hiding from the press and having secret dates when the paps would find out where I was and try to follow - it was even fun for a while, seeing if we would get caught or not.”

He took a drag of his cigarette. "What you need to remember though, is that it's not just the paparazzi that'll descend on you if you and Vic choose to let it happen. I learned that the hard way when I posted something publically for A's birthday and tagged her in it."

You chuckled, taking another sip of your beer. "Oh boy."

He sighed, "I wasn't thinking, too caught up in the fact that it was her birthday for me to really take in the consequences of letting the world know who she actually was."

You nodded, biting your lip. "Vic said she got some abuse online."

Damiano winced. "She did. A very large majority of the fanbase were happy and tried to welcome her and were kind and respectful, but there were just those select few." he shrugged, "We found who they were and blocked them on everything we both use and if it all becomes too much, we both take a break from our phones. At the end of the day, the people sending hate don't know me, not really, and they don't know A or our relationship so we just try our best to ignore them."

You nodded, eyes glancing back out at the spacious garden again and finding Chili running around and barking at the birds. Despite yourself, you allow a sad smile to pull at your lips.

"The two of you make it look so easy."

He turned to look at you. "You know that Vic just wants to protect you, right? Her reaction, the denial idea; she wasn't trying to hurt you-"

"But she did," you interjected.

"I understand that," Damiano continued, "I completely get that it hurt you, but I promise you she didn't mean it like that. She just wants to protect you. I mean...going public, it's not something to do on a whim, you know? Seeing the negative reaction afterwards, I regretted going about things in the way that I did and it was really strained between A and I for a while, and I think Vic is just scared that that's going to happen to you two."

"But you and A are okay now." you pointed out and Damiano chuckled.

"We are." he nodded, "But it took a while. We ended up having a lot of conversations between us of how to handle this kind of stuff to get us to where we are now. But I know I'd rather fight this with her then without her."

"I just..." you shrugged and took a sip of your beer, refusing to meet his eyes. "Do you think Vic's embarrassed? To let people know she's dating me, I mean. It's not like I'm from the same world, is it? You're all rock stars and A fits in because she works for the band as your clothes designer and I'm just..." you let out a sad sigh, "I'm just an artist with drawings that no-one wants to hang in their gallery."

"Don't you dare sell yourself short like that." Damiano's tone was cross, clipped. "Trust me when I say that Vic is the opposite of embarrassed. She adores you. She used to tease me when I'd talk incessantly about A when we first started dating and now she does the same about you. She loves you. You're one of us, you're part of us now, part of our little famiglia. Our world is your world now and I'm not letting anyone tell you you don't fit here, especially you."

"Grazie, Damiano." you murmured, tilting your beer bottle towards his. Luckily, Damiano got the hint and chuckled, knocking his bottle against yours.

"You two will sort it out, you know." he said, after a moment. "You two are too good together not to."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm always right."

******

You felt a little better after your talk with Damiano, and after spending a little while longer in his company by the pool, you'd retreated to your bedroom.

You glanced up now, your attention being drawn from your book at the sound of someone's knuckles against the doorframe. After Vic had rebuffed your attempts to speak to her, comfort her or even change her mind in terms of issuing a denial, you'd retreated to the comfort of one of the many spare bedrooms that Maneskin house had to offer.

"Come in!"

The door swung open, revealing Vic standing there, her face unreadable as she studied you. You watched her, waiting for her to speak, unsure whether to make the first move. She came to seek you out, so that was a good sign, right?

"Possiamo per favore parlare, cucciola?"

You nodded, turning back to your book to slip in your bookmark and close it, placing it behind you on your pillow. You cleared your throat as Victoria fully entered the room and shut the door behind her, but she didn't make a move towards the bed.

It was almost as if she was waiting for your permission, and so you patted the bedspread, smiling slightly as she approached the bed, sitting down and crossing her legs. You watched as Vic took a deep breath before glancing up at you.

"I think we need to talk."

"I think we both have some stuff we need to get off our chests."

Vic nodded, "Do you want to go first?"

You frowned, "You might not like what you hear."

Despite everything, despite everything that she had said and done in the past day, you didn't want to hurt her.

"I probably won't." Vic murmured, "But I want you to be honest with me and tell me how you're feeling. How you're really feeling."

"You really hurt me."

Vic nodded, biting her lip and you sighed. Did she even know just how much you were hurting? How much her eagerness to issue a denial pained you, cut at you?

"Vic, I just..." you huffed a sigh, "Do you even get how it feels for me? To know that the woman that I love, the woman that I'm so proud to be dating...wants to issue a denial about us?"

"Cucciola-"

"It was the very first thing out of your mouth, Vic." you bit out. Your voice was cold, cutting, hard - you'd never used this kind of tone around Victoria before, you'd never had any reason to. "You wouldn't even listen to reason or any of my own ideas. All you wanted to do was issue a flat-out denial."

"I'm so sorry-"

"Are you embarrassed, Vic, is that what this is?" You spat out, your eyes swimming with tears as you climbed off the bed. You couldn't be that close to her now. "Damiano said that he's sure that's not what this is, but if we're being honest, I'm not sure I agree."

"Damiano wouldn't lie." Vic said, quietly. "He knows me better than anyone."

"I thought I knew you!" your voice was gaining in volume, tears of anger, of hurt and confusion staining your cheeks. "I thought I knew you well enough to believe you when you told me you were all in, all in for us."

"You know I'm all in!"

You could only watch, chest heaving and tears falling as Vic climbed off the bed and approached you, her own eyes swimming with tears. Her hands were shaky as she reached for you but you backed away, shaking your head and instead moving towards the open bedroom window, taking in the air gratefully.

"So, now you can't even look at me?"

Your fingertips ache with how hard you're clutching the windowsill. "I don't know, Vic! I just...I don't know."

You turned around with a deep sigh, leaning against the sill. The talk hadn't gone as you'd wanted it to. When she'd come into the room and said she thought the pair of you needed to talk, you'd envisioned it meaning you'd be sorting this all out; the problem would be solved and you'd make up. But instead, it was just a repeat of earlier: another screaming match with no solution in sight.

"Just, merda," Vic sighed, dragging her hands through her hair as she looked over at you. Her stomach ached at the state of you, the tear stains on your cheek, the defeat in your eyes, the way you couldn't even look at her anymore.

"What can I do to fix this? Please, bella, tell me."

"Vic I...." you swallowed, shaking your head. "I don't... I don't think there's anything you can do to fix this. You're pretty adamant at putting out that denial and it's clear now that there's nothing that I say, or hell, nothing that anyone says, that'll change your mind. I don't think this can be fixed anymore."

"I-"

"I just don't understand," you whispered, so quietly that Vic had to strain to hear it. "I just want to feel that my girlfriend isn't embarrassed or ashamed of me, of us. It's like you're not even considering the fact that we can get out in front of this, go public in our own way then the press aren't beating us to anything."

"I'm not embarrassed." Vic was in front of you now, hands moving to grip your shoulders. You weakly tried to fight her but she was stronger than she looks, especially when she was determined. "But, surely Damiano's told you by now, what it was like for A? How it nearly ruined them in the end?"

"But it didn't, did it?" you spat at her. "Because they didn't let it ruin them, did they, Vic? Because Damiano and A believe in each other and what they have enough to fight against anything. Damiano told everyone who she was and A owned it, they owned it and now they're stronger for it. Are you honestly telling me that we can't do the same thing?"

"We aren't them!" Vic hissed. "We aren't them and you can't ask me to do something just because Damiano did. Sure, it worked out for them, but barely. They were so close to the edge and I don't want that to happen to us!"

"It's already happening to us, Vic. Open your eyes!"

Victoria sighed, shoulders dropping, almost like the fight had completely left her.

"I need some space."

It was almost like deja vu, you thought. While it had been you who turned away earlier, needing to get away from the stifling environment that your argument was creating, now you could only watch with an aching heart as Victoria turned and walked away from you, without looking back.

~ To be continued ~

....

Fottuti Paparazzi - Fucking Paparazzi

Giuro su Dio, non ho mai odiato niente di più di quei serpenti che ti inseguono per cercare di ottenere una storia. Solo perché sono sotto gli occhi del pubblico non dà loro il diritto di fare questo a me, a noi - I swear to God, I've never hated anything more than those snakes chasing you to try and get a story. Just because I'm in the public eye doesn't give them the right to do this to me, to us.

Dolcezza - Sweetness.

la mia bella ragazza - My beautiful girl.

Amore - Love

Cucciola - Puppy

Posso sedermi con te - Can I sit with you?

Famiglia - Family

Grazie - Thanks/Thank you

Possiamo per favore parlare, cucciola? - Can we please talk, puppy?

Merda - Shit

#victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis fanfiction #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin #måneskin #måneskin fanfiction

200 notes · View notes

erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

A Game of Chess

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request to write a fic that involved Spencer’s childhood friend Ethan that appeared in season 2′s episode Jones. To the anon who requested this, I’m so sorry it took so long to write, but I seemed to have trouble getting this fic perfect. But finally, I tweaked it and molded it into a story I’m proud of and really like how it turned out. Shoutout to the wonderful @multifandommandy for helping me with the inspiration for the unsub in this fic. With her suggestion of using the real Axeman of New Orleans from the 1900′s, the unsub in this fic was born. I hope you guys enjoy this fic. Enjoy some sassy, jealous Spencer. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 6,907

New Orleans.

Home of jazz, amazing food and beautiful sights.

Unfortunately, it was also the home of a current and active serial killer.

You and the rest of the Behavioral Analysis team had been called in for a serial killer running rampant in New Orleans, which meant that left little time to actually enjoy the sights.

“Remind me before we leave to take you to this jazz club I think you’d like,” your friend and coworker, Spencer nudged you with a smile.

“If we have a moment to breathe,” you groaned, taking a peek at the murder board that had already been set up by the local detectives.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make time for my favorite agent.”

He gave you a slight smile and a sly wink as he headed in the opposite direction of you to get started on some geographical profiles.

You felt a flush creep up from your neck all the way to your cheeks. It was no lie that you fancied the intelligent Dr. Reid and some days, you thought he actually reciprocated your feelings.

It felt like the two of you had been circling one another constantly for months, either pretending the feelings didn’t exist or shamelessly flirting with one another. At this point, you weren’t sure anything would ever happen between you two.

That still didn’t stop how flustered he could make you. Such as how he had just done.

It was something special to have his undivided attention. That was a recurring thing for you though. You always seemed to receive a more special kind of attention from him than the rest of your friends—aka the rest of the BAU team.

You were heading towards the table in front of the murder board to set down your things when JJ quite literally appeared out of nowhere by your side.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wink,” she smirked knowingly, settling down in a seat at the head of the table.

“Don’t start,” you retorted, cutting your eyes towards her in a warning glance.

“I’m just saying,” she smirked, opening the file and flipping through it before she spoke her next words.

“It’s just a matter of time before the other shoe drops.”

Whatever that meant.

•

You hooligans think you can catch me, but you can’t. You won’t. I’m much more cunning than you think.

You’ve found victims one, two and three. What about four, five and six? Seven? Maybe they exist, maybe they will exist soon. That’s for me to know and you to find out. If I wanted to, I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death.

“Well, that’s not chilling at all,” you muttered.

A letter had been sent to the NOLA police department, apparently from the killer himself. He was taunting them and your team, that much you knew.

“Definitely a narcissist,” Rossi said, relaying your thoughts, “He thinks he’s untouchable.”

“Not to mention he actually took a line from the infamous Axeman of New Orleans case,” Spencer pointed out.

Everyone blinked at him, clueless.

“The Axeman was a serial killer from May 1918 to October 1919 here in New Orleans. He was never caught, but he typically murdered couples with an axe; axes that belonged to the victims. It’s similar to our current unsub although he’s killing women with an axe. That’s actually kind of similar to the Axeman because he did actually slay a few single victims, some being female and-”

Spencer paused, noticing the entire team staring at him, once again.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Just a bit,” you nodded, holding back a grin.

Once the boy got started on something, it was hard to get him to stop. Or not talk 100 mph.

“Is this guy a genius or something? I didn’t even know about that serial killer,” the local detective, named Valadez, whispered to you as Spencer started back up and more to the point.

“You get used to it, trust me,” you grinned.

“The Axeman actually sent a few letters of his own,” Spencer said, looking at the copy of the letter, examining it, “He quite literally copied one sentence word for word.”

“Which one would that be?” Tara asked.

“I could slay a thousand of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death,” Spencer read.

“That’s the copied line?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” Spencer answered distractedly, still studying the writing, “From the Axeman’s letter on March 13th, 1919.”

“So is this just a copycat?” Matt asked.

“I don’t think so,” Spencer answered, “Although the similarities shouldn’t be ignored. He kills women with axes and then sends a letter that has a line that’s verbatim for what the Axeman said.”

“So maybe he’s getting his inspiration from this Axeman guy?” JJ questioned.

“It’s possible,” Spencer nodded.

Spencer was totally in the zone, looking at the writing, tongue poked out of the side of his mouth.

“At most, he has an ego that needs to be stroked,” you said, “There will definitely be more victims.”

“Victim three, Raquel Clayton was discovered outside a jazz club,” Detective Valadez said, studying the murder board.

Spencer’s head jerked up.

“Did you say jazz club?”

“Yeah, does that mean something to you?” Luke asked, curious.

“The Axeman also mentioned in said letter he would spare anyone that was listening to jazz music on a specific night. That night the entire town had dance halls filled with people listening to jazz music. Either his motive is somehow related to this or this guy is just fascinated by the Axeman case. What jazz club was it?”

You were glancing over the detective’s shoulder, reading the file. The name struck you as one you’d just heard earlier in the day. With a smirk, you looked at Spencer.

“Up for a trip to your favorite jazz club?”

•

“It doesn’t surprise me that I managed to actually bring you here, but under the fact of work circumstances,” Spencer grumbled.

“Hey, we’re here aren’t we? We can enjoy a little music while we ask around and see if anyone has seen anything.”

The club was darkly lit, but was filled with soothing sounds of jazz music. You could see why Spencer liked it here.

“The music is pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he agreed.

You stood for a few moments more taking in the pleasant sights and sounds around you before sighing.

“Guess we better get to work, huh?”

Spencer nodded.

“You start with the bartender and workers around there, I’ll start at the back. I’ll meet up with you later,” Spencer said.

You nodded and headed off to start your first rounds of questioning.

An hour later you met a disheartened Spencer. He’d had no more luck than you had. No one had seen anyone suspicious, no one had seen anything, there wasn’t even the first hint of who a suspect was.

This guy seemed to be as invisible as the real Axeman.

“Maybe Jazz was just a coincidence?” Spencer asked.

“You know as well as I do, that there’s no such thing as coincidences in our line of work,” you commented.

He was about to say something when a voice interrupted him.

“Reid, is that you?!”

You and Spencer turned to see a tall man, roughly the same age as Spencer with dark hair and dark eyes. His long beard would’ve been unruly on anyone else, but on this man it seemed to fit him perfectly.

“Ethan?” Spencer’s face lit up, as he hugged the guy.

“It’s been quite a long time since I’ve seen you. What’s it been? 13 years?”

“About,” Spencer nodded, “I didn’t know you were still here in New Orleans.”

“I just got back after some traveling. You can take the boy out of New Orleans but you can’t take New Orleans out of the boy.”

You watched the exchange back and forth, smiling politely.

“Are you gonna introduce me, Spencer?” you asked.

“Well, does Reid here have a girlfriend? Cause if so, he sure does have mighty fine taste,” the man said.

“No, he’s not my boyfriend,” you chuckled, “I’m his partner.”

You held out your hand.

“Supervisory Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. But you can just call me Y/N.”

He smiled, shaking your hand.

“Reid, you didn’t tell me the FBI had such beautiful girls like Y/N here. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have dropped out of the FBI so long ago.”

You smiled bashfully as you dropped your hand from his.

“Y/N this is an old friend from Las Vegas, Ethan. We grew up together.”

With a sidelong glance at Spencer you could see him jaw clenching and unclenching. Something he did when he was annoyed. That intrigued you. What was annoying him?

“So you were in the FBI?” you asked, curious.

“Nah. After the first day of training, I dropped out. Left it to this guy here,” Ethan nodded to Spencer, “I knew Reid would be the better agent anyway.”

“What made you drop out?”

You winced, realizing your tactlessness.

“Sorry if that was too personal of a question,” you apologized.

“No need to apologize,” he held his hands up, “With a pretty agent like you, I’d spill all my secrets.”

A slight blush grazed your cheeks and you smiled brightly up at him. It was nice to hear such compliments. It was something you weren’t used to.

“I figured out I wasn’t up for being in the FBI. Much more of a musician, I guess you’d say.”

“Oh, you play?”

“Sax, piano, a little guitar.”

“Impressive,” you grinned.

“So, Reid. You doing better now? No more addiction?”

“Addiction?”

You furrowed your brows, looking at Spencer quizzically.

“It’s nothing,” Spencer mumbled.

“Last time I saw him he was pretty messed up,” Ethan said, demonstrating a shaking hand, “What was it you were on again?”

“Dilaudid,” Spencer answered, lips pressed in a thin line.

“What?”

You had joined the team only eight years ago, in your early twenties, just shy of Spencer’s thirtieth birthday. He’d already been with the BAU for eight years himself by that time. There were a lot of things you didn’t know about his past and apparently, this was one of them.

“Y/N is a newer member to the team,” Spencer said, suddenly seeming more relaxed, “She only joined a couple of years ago.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been in the BAU again man?” Ethan asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Fifteen years.”

“Damn. That’s impressive. I could never. Guess that’s why I ended up here,” he motioned with his glass, indicating this certain jazz club.

Spencer’s phone rang, but he ignored it.

“Speaking of,” Ethan turned to you, “How would you like to hear some great music sometime? I could get you front row seats. Maybe even play a request or two just for you.”

He winked at you, increasing your flush. It’d been a long while since you’d had a guy hit on you, hence your constant flushing. You were flattered and you were seriously thinking about taking up his offer.

Spencer’s cell started in again. Once again, it went ignored.

“If I get a chance, I’d love to come hear you play.”

He was about to say something when the cell rang again. For a second you actually thought it was Spencer’s phone again, until you felt the vibration against your thigh from your own phone.

“One second, excuse me,” you apologized, taking your phone out of your pocket.

You had a missed call, followed by a new text.

New body found. Meet us at crime scene ASAP.

It was from Emily.

“I’m awfully sorry to break up this reunion, boys,” you said, “But we gotta go. The job calls.”

“No problem. See you around dude,” Ethan said, patting Spencer on the back.

“Anytime you want to take up my offer, just drop by. I’ll hook you up.”

This was said to you.

He raised his tumbler in your direction with a flirty grin as he backed away.

When you turned to follow Spencer out, you realized he’d already left.

•

You and Spencer arrived at the crime scene ten minutes later.

“What took you guys so long?” Emily asked.

“Sorry, my phone was off and Y/L/N didn’t tell me you needed us.”

You shot Spencer a look.

What the hell was he talking about? You certainly had. Especially after he’d ignored his own ringing phone twice.

“It’s fine, you’re here now,” Emily said.

“Another body was dumped. Female, approximately 25-30, seems to be wounded from an ax,” Detective Valadez said.

“Man, he really did a number on this poor woman,” you mumbled, shaking your head, “She must’ve really pissed him off.”

The victim was so wounded and bloodied, it was difficult to identify much else about her.

“I know what that’s like,” Spencer mumbled.

You glanced at him again, your questioning glance being plainly ignored.

What was up with him?

“Split up. Witnesses said they had just seen her get off of the bus down the street. We need to know how she ended up here,” Emily said, “Y/N, Spence. I want you to start at the bus stop and see if you can retrace her steps.”

So that’s how you and Spencer ended up at the bus stop, him mumbling to himself and you exasperated at his silent treatment.

“How are we going to figure anything out when you won’t even talk to me?”

He continued to ignore you, walking up and down the sidewalk, thinking.

“If you’re mad can you just please tell me why?”

“I don’t know. You might be too busy flirting with some passerby,” he grumbled.

You were even more confused.

“What are you talking about?”

Back to ignoring you again.

“I think we’ve figured out about as much as we can from here, let’s go,” Spencer said, taking off.

He left you behind feeling even more confused than to begin with.

•

The only bright spot of the next few days was that there was a break in the case.

Thanks to Spencer’s excellent geographical profiling skills, he’d managed to narrow down the unsub’s hunting ground.

The icing on the cake?

In the dead middle of his hunting ground was a jazz club. The same jazz club you’d been to with Spencer the day before, the one where Ethan frequently played at.

Two more victims had been murdered, something that made your heart twist painfully in your chest. You’d been too late to help them, but now, you could get justice for the poor women who had met their untimely end.

To attempt to catch him, the team came up with the idea of sending an undercover in and staking out the place in an attempt to lure him out.

You were going to be the one that would be sent in. In fact, you yourself volunteered to. You wanted to arrest this guy and throw him in handcuffs. It’s what the bastard deserved after his heinous crimes.

Even though Spencer had hardly talked to you for the last few days, he still flat out refused. He kept trying to talk you out of it and convince Emily to send someone else in. But you’d already made up your mind.

“You’re not going in there, Y/N,” he protested.

“Yes. I am.”

Your voice had a steely edge. He wasn’t going to change your mind.

“Do you know how dangerous it is?!” he’d thrown back at you.

“Gee, no. I never thought about it,” your sarcastic tone was harsher than you intended, but it felt good.

If he was going to be mad at you for whatever reason, then so be it. But you had every right to be just as angry at him for giving you the cold shoulder.

“This is serious, Y/N.”

“You know what, Spencer? You have some nerve acting like you care about me all of a sudden. You have no right to order me around like you’re my father. Especially since you’ve been passive aggressive with me all damn week.”

With that, the plan was set.

And you went in.

•

“Remember, Y/N,” came Emily’s voice in your invisible earpiece, “If you encounter our unsub, we have to catch him in the act. It’s very likely he will attack you and try to hurt you, you know that right?”

You trailed a finger around the lip of your tumbler, looking around the mostly empty bar before answering.

“I’m aware. I’ll be alright.”

“Okay. Just act like a normal young woman out having a night out. We know he’s picked up all his victims here.”

“Got it.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Agent Y/LN,” you heard.

You turned around, seeing Ethan stroll up to you, a sly grin on his face.

“Well hello there,” you grinned, leaning against the bar, “And please, call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said trying out the name, “Might I say you look outstanding tonight.”

You smiled down at the deep teal ruched dress you had donned for the evening. It was a simple dress with thin spaghetti straps and a deep plunging neckline, showing off more of your breasts than you ever had at work. It fit on your body perfectly, hugging your curves and highlighting them. A pair of strappy, gold, stilettos were the only accessory you’d paired with it.

“Thank you. I’ve been anxious to hear you play.”

“Where’s Reid? Did he not come with you?” Ethan asked.

“Oh, he’s around,” you replied coyly.

Just outside, down the street sat Luke, Rossi, Emily and Spencer in an undercover van, watching the entire thing on their monitors.

The styrofoam cup in Spencer’s hand crumpled from his grip on it as he watched the scene unfold before him. Thankfully, he’d already finished his coffee earlier.

Rossi glanced at the cup then to Luke, with a raised brow.

“You okay there Reid?” Luke asked, knowingly.

“I’m fine,” he gritted out.

“Right,” Rossi drawled, clearly not convinced.

“Isn’t that your childhood friend?” Emily asked.

Yup,” Spencer said and nothing else.

“I saved you a seat at the front, just like I said I would,” Ethan said.

Spencer’s blood boiled when he saw Y/N’s hand on Ethan’s arm. She was doing that thing she did when she flirted: that cute half smile and a peek up through her lashes.

He’d seen it before many times. It was just one of the many things he’d noticed about her before.

“I’ll personally escort you.”

Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her towards the stage. They were briefly off camera for a moment and Spencer couldn’t help but feel the jealousy tugging at him. He wouldn’t even be in this position if—well it wasn’t important right now.

They appeared back on camera, near the stage. He sat her at one of the tables at the front.

“I’ll try hard not to mess up. It’s a bit nerve wracking when you have such a beautiful girl in the audience to cheer you on.”

Spencer fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Y/N actually giggled in response.

“Reid, you’re seconds away from snapping that pencil in half,” Rossi said.

He peered down, not even realizing he’d picked up a pencil to worry in his hands.

“Anything you’d like to share?” asked Rossi.

Spencer looked at the three expectant faces staring back at him and grimaced.

“Not particularly,” he grumbled.

“Reid’s just mad that his friend is making moves on his girl,” Luke stated, nonchalantly.

“She’s not my girl,” Spencer replied.

“Dude, come on. We all know that you like her and just refuse to make a move.”

Spencer glanced at Rossi and Emily who seemed in agreement to Luke’s statement. A glance at the monitors showed that nothing exciting was happening anyway, so there was no way to avoid this conversation with his teammates.

“It’s like a game of chess,” Rossi said, steepling his fingers together.

“What is?” Spencer asked.

“You and Y/N,” he replied, “But it’s like you’re both stuck in a stalemate waiting for the other to make a move.”

He had no reply to that. What was there to say? Rossi was right and it was all his own damn fault.

“Take this as a lesson, kid,” Rossi advised.

“A lesson how?”

“Let this be your motivation.”

Ethan had left you since he was up next.

You sat at the table, sipping on your drink when you heard an unfamiliar voice to your right.

“Looks like you’re awfully lonely tonight.”

You turned to see an average looking man dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He seemed out of place in such a casual outfit. That didn’t qualify him as the unsub though.

“Maybe I like to be alone?”

That stopped the guy in his tracks. He quite literally backpedaled and left you alone again. You heard a muffled snort in your earpiece.

“You sure know how to tell ‘em,” Luke scoffed.

“Yeah, well, if our unsub is picking up women with lines that bad, we’re in even more trouble than we realized,” you muttered.

You knew from the profile that this unsub was full of himself and egocentric. He would have to be smooth enough to actually lure a woman back with him.

“We’ll keep watching,” Emily said.

You sat alone in peace as Ethan played. He was rather good and you had to say you were impressed.

Your drink eventually disappeared and when you caught Ethan’s eye, you held up your glass just slightly, nodding towards the bar so he knew you were getting a refill. You stood, heading towards the bar, deciding you’d just go for a simple water. You were on the job, after all.

“I’ll take a water, please,” you told the bartender.

He was young, maybe early 30’s with dark hair. He seemed put together, even for a bartender. His outfit was neat and mess free and not a hair was out of place.

“For a beauty like you, you should have a drink, it’s on the house. It’s my specialty.”

He leaned forward to you, giving you a sly wink, as he reached for a glass without even hearing your answer.

“No, that’s okay, really.”

“Oh come on. One drink won’t hurt. I make the best drinks in the city,” he said.

Something in your mind was trying to piece together, but you couldn’t get it to completely form. Shaking it off, you reluctantly relented.

“Okay, I’ll take one then.”

He mixed the drink, poured it in the glass and slid it towards you.

“Now tell me that isn’t the best drink you’ve ever had.”

You took a sip. It was too strong for your taste but you smiled anyway.

“It’s very good,” you lied.

“So, have you heard about these weird ax murders happening around here?” he questioned, wiping the bar.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “Scary stuff.”

“It’s amazing these deadbeat feds can’t seem to catch him,” he shook his head, as if it were a real tragedy.

Neurons in your mind were sparking and there was something about him that was setting you on edge.

“What did you say your name was, again?” you smiled, flirtatiously.

“I didn’t.”

His grin was icy.

Red flags were going up. If he wasn’t your unsub, then this guy surely wasn’t someone to mess with.

“Oh my bad,” you giggled, playing the part of a flirty, young woman, just there for some fun.

“Anyway, all I gotta say is, is that this guy is really proving a point.”

“How so?” you asked.

“You just gotta give the ax to some people,” he replied, slamming his palm down on the bar top, making you jump, “You know what I mean?”

You nodded, seeming interested, but goosebumps were forming on your skin. It was too much to be a coincidence that this guy wasn’t the unsub and he sure had the ego to match the profile.

“Oh excuse me,” you said, reaching for your phone in your purse, pretending like you were getting a phone call, “It’s my boss. She can’t leave me alone even on a night out.”

You smiled apologetically and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello? Yeah, just a minute, I can’t hear you.”

You covered your other ear as if you were trying to hear as you headed towards one of the side doors.

Once you were out of the building, you pulled your phone away, hitting the speed dial for Emily.

“Prentiss.”

“Emily, it’s me. Did you hear any of-”

Before you could finish your question, you felt a hand over your mouth and you were jerked backwards. You kicked and screamed in tandem as your phone hit the pavement and you were dragged back into the darkened alley.

“Y/N? Y/N?!” Spencer yelled, panicked eyes looking at the others.

“Everyone move. Now. We believe the suspect has a federal agent,” Emily barked into her walkie talkie.

“Cover the parameter. We have no idea which direction he could’ve taken her,” Luke added over the radio.

Spencer was out of the door before anyone could stop him.

“REID! REID!”

He heard Rossi yell out after him, but he didn’t stop running.

If that son of a bitch dared to hurt a hair on Y/N’s head, he was going to leave here tonight in a body bag instead of handcuffs.

Spencer would make damn sure he’d see to it.

•

Your back hit the brick wall, the nearby streetlight hitting something metal just right that it gleamed for a split second.

Your heart stopped when you saw the blade of a hatchet in the bartender’s hands.

“I knew the feds had been around here snooping for me,” he sneered.

“How?”

You tried to act cool. This was part of your job, to be in dangerous situations. But truth be told, you were terrified.

“Your little boyfriend Ethan mentioned seeing you and your partner here the other day asking around about me. Little did he know he was really doing me a favor by letting me in on that little piece of gossip.”

Ethan. He had just gotten back from a tour of the world. He was innocent in all this, yet somehow he still ended up mixed up in it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you scowled, wriggling against his grasp.

He held you tight with one arm across your neck and shoulders, his arm almost to the point of choking you. You had to stall, had to do something. Where was Emily and the team?

“Where were you that day anyway? I never saw you here.”

“That’s because it was my day off. Lucky break huh?” he snorted, “Besides, I was in search of victim number five.”

Lillie Newton. She was victim number five. She had a name, she wasn’t just a number.

Anger boiled within you. Pure hatred for someone as evil as this man that stood before you.

“Why? Why do it? Were you just trying to be another copycat?”

“You know, one of the things said about the Axeman of New Orleans was that his crimes were mostly ethnically motivated. He killed mainly Italian-Americans or Italian immigrants. For some reason, he must’ve hated them. I found it...inspiring. Of course, I have nothing against the Italians. Unless they’re women, that is.”

“Oh so that’s it? You hate women? Talk about typical psychopath 101,” you spat.

A sharp sting came across your cheek as he slapped you, hard. Hard enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Listen here, bitch. I’d watch my mouth if I were you, because this baby?” he lifted up his machete for you to see, “This can do a lot of damage. I can’t wait to strike it into you and chop you up so your FBI friends won’t even be able to recognize you.”

You swallowed hard. Your brain was scrambling for a way to escape. You were just about ready to kick him in the groin when he was suddenly yanked away from you, his hard grip leaving your body.

You blinked quickly, not understanding what had just happened until you saw Spencer a few feet away, punching the guy. It wasn’t just one punch either. Two, then three came. You bounded into action then.

“Spencer! Spencer, stop!”

You tried pulling him away as the rest of your team came running into the alleyway. He managed to get one more hit in before you successfully pulled him away and Luke had pulled the unsub up, slapping cuffs on him faster than you realized he even could.

Spencer grabbed you and pulled you close, holding you tight. His head went into the crook of your neck as he clung to you, all of his apparent fear and worry being transmitted from him to you through the hug. No matter what tiff you both may have been in the middle of, he still cared about you.

“I was so scared something happened to you,” he mumbled.

He pulled back, looking over you, assessing you to see if you had any injuries.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

His finger brushed your cheek lightly and you winced.

“Did he hit you?!”

“Slapped me, but I’m okay. It’s just a little sore,” you told him.

“You might have a nasty bruise there in a few days.”

“Least it’s just a bruise, huh?” you smiled a tiny bit.

“Yeah.”

He was gazing directly at you as if no one else were around, as if there wasn’t a bustle of activity around you. In that moment, it was just the two of you.

“Spence.”

You both turned to see Emily, motioning for him, needing his help.

Spencer let go of your arms, stepping back a bit.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

With a nod, you watched him head in Emily’s direction. It had been a long day. A long week actually. But the murderer had been caught and there would be justice for the poor families who had lost their daughters.

That wasn’t all though.

Something had seemed to shift between you and Spencer. Sort of like a chess piece in it’s hesitant movement to another square.

•

By the time you’d handed over the unsub to the local precinct so he could be their problem, it was well past midnight.

Everyone had been way too exhausted to even think of boarding the jet tonight, so it was mutually decided that they’d spend one more night in New Orleans and head home tomorrow. Everyone had gone their separate ways once back at the hotel.

You headed to your room, managing to score an ice pack for your sore cheek. Unfortunately, after all the excitement, there was no time to talk to Spencer and he’d left the precinct before you had anyway. You made a mental note to check in on him tomorrow and maybe even see if things were okay between you two.

You’d changed out of the dress and into more comfortable clothes—sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were sitting at the small table in your room, icing your cheek and pretty much about to fall asleep when there was a knock at your door. Sitting the ice pack down, you walked to the door, opening it. You were surprised to see Spencer standing on the other side.

Before you had the chance to say anything, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

After your brief initial shock, your lips moved with his so fluidly it seemed natural, like you did this every day.

Minutes may have passed, or it might just have been seconds as you kissed him back, your hands naturally finding a spot to rest against his chest.

You were so stunned when he pulled away, that it took a moment for you to realize he had said something.

“Huh?” you asked, still dazed.

“I asked if I could come in,” he repeated.

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

You stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him. Your head was still reeling from the kiss as you turned around and saw him sit down on your bed, his hands running through his hair.

“Come here,” he whispered.

You walked over to him, standing in front of where he sat.

“I’m so sorry,” he began.

Your confusion deepened. Was he sorry about the kiss? About you getting hurt? About being mad?

He said nothing else as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him and holding you tight.

“When I saw the unsub had you…” he mumbled into your neck, trailing off as his voice cracked.

You pulled out of his embrace to look at him. You now stood in between his legs, even closer than you had been before, your body mere inches from his.

“I was so afraid I might never see you again. Suddenly, me being angry at you was the least important thing in the world.”

“Why were you mad? If I did something I’m so sorry, I-”

“Shh, no,” he mumbled, his finger covering your lips gently to silence you, “It was my own fault, I’m so sorry.”

You waited silently, seeing if he was going to elaborate. His eyes closed, his expression looking pained and even a bit embarrassed.

“I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” you questioned, your brows furrowed, not understanding.

“Of Ethan flirting with you,” he sighed, “And you flirting back.”

“I,” you paused, your mind racing, not being able to piece everything together quick enough, “I was just being nice to him, then just playing the part earlier. Why would you be jealous?”

He gave a half laugh, almost a humorless one.

“Because I’m crazy about you, Y/N,” he whispered, his gaze finally meeting yours.

His hand cupped the side of your face, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. You didn’t move from his touch nor did you make a move to push his hands away.

“And seeing you with someone else made me see red. Just the thought of you being someone else’s and not mine because I’d been too scared and stubborn, locked in this chess game, if you will, with you, not making a move. I was afraid I had been too late and I was mad at myself.”

“I’m not interested in Ethan. I only have eyes for you,” your eyes slid to his lips, unable to stop yourself.

You were still thinking of the way his lips had felt against yours. The softness of them, the passion in the kiss, the way his hands had cupped your face and held on firmly like he himself was afraid the moment was just a fluke.

“It’s always been that way.”

Your voice was barely a whisper now as your eyes slid closed and your lips found his again.

This time, the kiss was more heated. Your feelings for one another had finally been laid on the table, igniting a need to act on them.

Your hand tangled in his curls as you kissed him back fervently, suddenly feeling like you couldn’t get enough of him. You had spent years not knowing what kissing him would be like and now it felt like you were simply making up for lost time.

You smiled gently against his lips when he moaned into the kiss. Apparently, he was just as eager for your touch against him, as you were for his against you.

His hands reached for the hem of your top, pulling away to pull it up and over your head. His tongue moved out and over his lips slowly, his eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. Your own hands pulled at his loosened tie, dropping it once it left his body.

Spencer’s mouth met your neck, leaving soft kisses down it as your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. The simple task seemed so much harder as you were distracted by the feel of his lips on your skin.

In one fell swoop, he’d picked you up and turned, tossing you in quite a gentle manner against the mattress of your hotel bed. His hand ran over your exposed stomach, his kisses moving lower. You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched him, unable to control the growing desire forming between your legs.

You were so caught up in the sensation, it didn’t even register what he had been doing until you felt the slight tug of your waistband being pulled downwards. His fingers gripped the material and pushed it down over your raised hips until it was completely off.

You wasted no time in ridding him of his own pants as well.

Left in only your undergarments, you and Spencer laid practically skin to skin, taking a moment just to enjoy one another. He kissed you again, his slight scruff tickling your face, while his hands roamed your body.

You, also, took your sweet time exploring the new found territory of his bare skin underneath your hands. They ran over his back, his chest, his arms, his sides before finding their way back to his face, your lips moving in a fluid dance with his own.

He reached behind you, unhooking your bra, pulling the straps down until the item had completely left your body. You were almost positive he held back a groan as he took in your naked top half.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Your legs inadvertently clenched at his cursing. It wasn’t often he did it, but something told you that in bed it was a good possibility that he could be a completely different person.

His hands cupped each breast, his lips kissing your throat as he massaged them. His fingertips briefly moved over your peaked nipples, making you moan softly.

Spencer wasted no time though, his touch quickly retreated downwards to the only item left on your body. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and pulled them off, leaving you completely exposed and turned on beneath him.

Maybe it was a mixture of how close you came to death tonight and your feelings for him, but you didn’t want this moment to end. You wanted to hang on to it forever. That’s why you took your time, hands pushing off his underwear, your eyes meeting his.

It was like he could read your thoughts. Being as close as you two had been previous to this, it wasn’t surprising, but knowing you so well in this instance was just on a whole other level of mind blowing. He nodded, wanting to enjoy this for as long as he could too.

His hand covered yours, interlocking your fingers together as he pushed into you. The new feeling of him inside you was overwhelming but really good.

Your hands stayed laced together as he kissed you and moved within you. Your body met his rhythm and soon instead of two, your bodies moved as one.

Breaking the kiss, your head fell back against the pillow as you moaned. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he felt so incredible. His teeth bared into his bottom lip as he gazed down at you, his desire written plainly on his face.

“Spencer,” you whimpered, pulling your legs up his sides, allowing him a deeper access.

His movements quickened as your pleasure heightened, fulfilling the need for more. You couldn’t help but smile, even as you moaned, at the curl that fell over his brow, moving with each thrust.

“God, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his forehead falling against yours, eyes closing, “Fuck.”

You briefly registered the other noises in the room besides both of your moans: the bed creaking and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Spence,” you mumbled, whimpering as he hit a sensitive spot, “You're gonna wake up the entire team.”

“Let them hear,” he grunted, “Let them know who you belong to.”

“Whatever you want,” you mumbled, pulling him towards you once again.

Your fingers dug into his back as your high built deep within you. He moaned against your lips, his hands gripping your sides as you both moved frantically, desperate to reach complete ecstasy.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you moaned, your noises suddenly higher in pitch and volume, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He kissed you as you came apart, the fire in your veins shooting through you as quick as lightning. Luckily, his kiss muffled most of your loud moan.

He buried his face in your neck as he soon followed, his own moans filling your ears, much to your delight.

Your fingers tangled in the back of his hair as you panted, starting to come down from the high. His body was slick against yours as he finally turned his face to yours, kissing you once again.

The cool air of the hotel room hit your sweaty skin, cooling it gently, but your insides still felt red hot, both in reaction to the sex and the fact that it was Spencer, the fact that he was as crazy about you as you were him.

The fact that both of you no longer played this complicated game you’d inadvertently been involved in for so long.

It was only after he’d stilled, his body still flush against your skin that he smiled one of his heart stopping grins, before finally speaking.

“Checkmate.”

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max-is-tired · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions: A Show

Pairing: Intrulogical

Characters: Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders.

Words: 3.941

Warnings: sympathetic Deceit & Remus, swearing, some graphic talk bc it’s Remus, screaming in caps

Notes: Finally, I can post this monster of a fic -hey there, @princeyssash, guess who was your secret santa? This fic was honestly so much fun to write, I swear -I loved all of the prompts I had, but this one just called to me,,, I had to,,

Big thanks to @purp-man for betaing this fic for me and listening to my 3am rambles, and shoutout to @afulldeckofaces for helping me flesh out some plot points, like Virgil memeing his way through Roman’s plans. You’re the absolute best <33

Commission me!! Buy me a coffee!! My Discord server!! AO3!!

It was a normal day in the mindscape.

Patton was humming happily in the kitchen, shuffling around with a pep in his step as he mixed the batter for some cookies. In the living room, Logan and Virgil were enjoying each other’s company while doing their own thing, may it be reading or half-slouching on the couch while scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr.

Everything was peaceful.

Until it wasn’t.

“YOU DIRTY LITTLE SEWER RAT GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!!”

Everyone jumped at the sudden shout, Virgil going as far as tumbling off the couch with a startled yelp. From upstairs, Remus’ unmistakable laughter bounced on the walls, followed shortly after by the twin himself bolting down the stairs with a maniacal grin on his face.

“Oh god,” Virgil groaned from the floor, pinching the bridge of his nose, “what the fuck did he do now?”

“Language, kiddo,” Patton called, emerging from the kitchen with a confused frown on his face.

Turns out, they didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“REMUS!!” Roman screeched, running down the stairs. He looked thoroughly pissed, eyes flashing dangerously as he glared daggers at his brother.

Virgil took one look at him, blinked, and then promptly broke down cackling.

“Stop laughing, Hot Topic!” Roman exclaimed, cheeks flushing red. Not that his blush was very noticeable, due to the various scribbles and crude drawings covering his face. “Look at what he did to my beautiful face!”

“You just don’t understand real art, brother dearest,” Remus snickered, waving the marker in his hand around.

“Oh, I’ll show you real art,” Roman muttered darkly, unsheathing his sword as he stalked down the last steps of the stairs.

At the sight of the unsheathed sword, Virgil’s eyes widened in alarm, his body tensing slightly as it became clear the situation was starting to escalate. Beside him, Logan looked at the two brothers, sighed in resignation and snapped the book in his hands shut.

“That’s quite enough, you two,” he said, staring the two brothers down with a raised eyebrow.

“Specs, he drew penises on my face! Multiple times!!”

“Which you can easily snap off with a wave of your hand,” Logan pointed out, “I do not believe there is any need for all this screaming, or for weapons to be brought into the picture.”

“Logan, you don’t understand, I gotta fight him now! For my honor!!” Roman exclaimed, waving his arms around -and therefore further proving Logan’s point by almost cutting Deceit’s head off as the side rose up to check what the commotion was about.

“Oi, watch it!” Deceit called out, ducking to avoid another accidental swipe of Roman’s sword, “who are you, Zuko?”

“If Roman’s Zuko then Logan is totally Uncle Iroh,” Virgil added, still lying on the floor.

Logan shrugged. “If we are referring to the first season of Avatar: The Last Airbender then yes, I can see the similarities.”

Roman squinted at them, finally lowering his sword. “There is an insult somewhere in that phrase. I don’t know where, but I know there is.”

“It’s because you’re a dumb-head, bro!” Remus cackled, once again calling the attention to himself.

Roman growled, looking more than ready to stalk through the room and tackle his twin to the ground, but Logan anticipated him before the situation could escalate once again.

“Remus, I believe this is quite enough,” he said, turning towards the aforementioned twin.

“Aw, but Logan, I’m just having some fun!”

Logan simply raised an eyebrow, staring him down.

“Ugh, fiiiine!” Remus finally groaned, throwing the marker somewhere behind himself, “that does not mean I’m happy about it though!”

Then, he sank out.

Peace once again established, Logan hummed and leaned back on the couch, going back to reading his book.

Or at least that was the plan.

“What the fuck just happened?” Virgil asked, staring at him in disbelief.

“Virgil, language!!”

“Sorry Padre, but I gotta agree with Cout Woelaf here,” Roman said, sword laying limp in his grip, “that was nothing less but weird.”

“I honestly do not understand where all of this apparent confusion is coming from,” Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You told Remus to stop!” Roman exclaimed, throwing his arms up, “and he listened to you!!”

“Roman, your sword!” Deceit hissed in frustration, having had to duck for the third time to avoid being cut in tiny scaley pieces. “If you don’t put it down this instant I might just try and stab you with it, do not try me.”

Roman grumbled but complied, making the sword disappear with a wave of his hand. Then, he crossed his arms, looking once again towards the logical side. “My point still stands though. Remus never listens to anyone, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I think I have to agree with them here Lo,” Patton said, still standing under the kitchen’s doorway, “that was a little weird.”

“Well, I do not know what to tell you,” Logan countered, “I asked him to stop, he complied and then sank out -it’s as simple as that.”

“If you say so,” Roman said, squinting at him in suspicion.

From the other side of the room, Deceit gave him A Look, appearing to be torn between amusement and concern. Logan subtly raised an eyebrow in response, making sure the others would not notice their silent exchange.

After all, it wasn’t like he could just tell them the truth, could he?

+++

When Logan finally sank up in his room, sometime later, he was not surprised to see a very familiar side sprawled on his bed, head hanging from the side of the mattress as he threw a tiny dagger up and down in the air.

“Lolo!!” Remus grinned, spotting him, “took you a while, I was starting to get bored!”

“I wanted to finish this novel first,” Logan said, putting the book in question back to its place in his large library, “it was rather interesting.”

“You know what would be interesting?” Remus asked, not looking away from the other as he kept playing with his dagger, “to find out what would happen if this dagger hit me in the eye!! Do you think it would reach all the way to my brain?”

“I suppose it would,” Logan hummed, sitting beside the creative side and quickly catching the dagger out of the air when Remus threw it again, “but between proving that hypothesis and spending the rest of the day with my not-injured husband, I think I prefer the second option more.”

“Oh really?” Remus grinned, sitting up -a slim silver chain fell out of his shirt with the movement, the golden ring hanging from it twinkling in the light of the room. “And tell me, how would you like to spend that time, my dear?”

Logan hummed, the light pressure of his own ring hiding under his shirt bringing a smile to his face. “Oh, I’m sure my dear husband will have some ideas of his own to share.”

“Oh, you are wicked,” Remus said, before leaning in to capture Logan’s lips in a kiss.

+++

For a while, it seemed like whatever had happened in the living room had been forgotten -the others were still confused by how easy it was for Logan to make Remus listen to him, but most of them waved it off as Logic easily overpowering Intrusive Thoughts with rationality and all that shit.

(Deceit knew better than that, but that was mostly because lying to him was next to impossible and Logan had been smart enough to let him in on their secret as soon as it had started to become a serious thing, both to help the couple lie to the other sides and to avoid him finding out on his own and potentially jeopardizing their cover.)

Point is, no one had yet discovered the real reason between the apparent chemistry between the two sides. But that didn’t mean they weren’t starting to notice things.

The first one to start suspecting something was, surprisingly enough, Virgil.

He had been sneaking to the kitchen around 3am, planning to grab a quick snack from the pantry and then tip-toe back to his own room, all the while hoping not to alert anyone of his nighttime escapade -he had already been at the receiving end of several stern talks about his fucked-up sleeping schedule and did not want to have to sit through another one, thank you very much.

What he had not been expecting, was to find himself staring at Logan’s back, the logical side looking busy filling two mugs with steaming water.

Virgil froze on his tracks, eyes wide in alarm as he tried to figure out how to sneak back out of the kitchen and up the stairs without being noticed. Unfortunately, Logan seemed to have other ideas and turned around before the anxious side could make up his mind about the next course of action.

“Uh,” Logan said, blinking in surprise, “hello, Virgil. I have to be honest, I was not expecting to meet anyone at this hour of the night.”

“Likewise, I guess,” Virgil shrugged, giving the other a tiny smile, “why are you up at this hour anyway? Weren’t you the one waxing poetry about the importance of a regular sleep schedule?”

“I got sidetracked, I guess. One late night won’t harm me in any way or form, I assure you.”

Virgil snickered. “I’m telling Patton you said that.”

“I don’t think you will,” Logan countered, calm as ever as he put down the kettle and moved to grab the two cups, “because if you do I will tell Patton about you sneaking into the kitchen at 3am with, as it appears, not a single ounce of sleep in your body.”

“... harsh, L. Real harsh.”

“Just stating facts,” Logan said, before walking out of the kitchen.

Virgil stared after him, watching the logical side leisurely cross the living room and walk up the stairs until he could not see him anymore. Then, he shrugged, quickly walking to the pantry and grabbing the snack he had come for.

He straightened up, holding triumphantly a bag of chips, only to freeze up again when a tiny detail finally struck him.

“Wait, why the fuck did he have two mugs?”, he wondered, turning back to glance at the stairs. Then, he turned towards the kitchen counter, noticing a little bag sitting just to the side of where Logan had been standing just a few seconds before.

“Kuding Tea” read the caption on the front of the bag, the inside filled with slim, dark tea nails.

Virgil frowned, rolling the name around in his head. He was sure he had heard it before, but where?

+++

The second one was Roman.

He had been strolling idly around the Imagination, humming a song under his breath as he walked along a path in the woods. Of course, his guard wasn’t completely down, not now that he was so near Remus’ side of the Imagination -while his relationship with his brother had greatly improved in the last year or so, he was still very much aware of the dangerous creatures lurking in his brother’s domain, and Roman had no desire to be caught by surprise by one of them.

Could you imagine the teasing, if Remus ever were to find out?

So yeah, he was still being very attentive to his surroundings -that’s probably half of the reason why he found himself hesitating when what sounded like distant laughter reached his ears.

Roman stilled, focusing on his surroundings. But all he could hear was silence, and after a few more seconds he was about ready to shrug it off to his imagination.

Then, the same, faint sound echoed from somewhere in the forest.

Curious, Roman started following the sound, watching his steps as his hand moved to hover over the handle of his sword -better be safe than sorry, he figured.

It didn’t take long for him to reach his destination, the forest receding just a few feet in front of him to make room for a vast, lush clearing. What he found, however, was something he could have never fathomed.

In the middle of the clearing, sitting on the grass in front of each other, were Remus and Logan, looking way too engrossed in their own conversation to notice the stunned prince staring at them from just behind a tree.

Remus seemed to be showing Logan something, looking completely enraptured by whatever Logan was saying.

The logical side was talking animatedly, waving his hands around with a grin as he occasionally gestured to something sitting between them. And Remus, well, he was staring at Logan with an expression Roman was pretty sure he’d never seen on his twin’s face.

He was looking at Logan like he was the sole holder of every secret of the universe, like he was everything he could see and hear.

He looked absolutely, utterly smitten, and Roman did not know what to do with that information.

+++

For Patton, well, it was more of a gradual realization.

He may not be the smartest in the group, but he was not by any means an idiot. He had noticed right away the potential chemistry between the two sides, the way Logan never seemed to be fazed by Remus’ shenanigans or the way Remus seemed to enjoy poking fun at the logical side.

Initially, he had not been very thrilled about it. But as time went on and they started to get closer to the dark sides, he could see how those two being friends could be highly beneficial for everyone, Remus and Logan included.

And he thought that was all it was -a blossoming friendship!

But the more time passed, the more Patton started to realize how that wasn’t exactly the case.

He didn’t know what initially tipped him off, really. Maybe it was the shared glances when one of them thought the other wasn’t looking, or the smile both of the sides seemed to fight down when in the presence of the other.

Maybe it was the subtle change in Logan’s demeanor, the way he’d grown calmer, happier, metaphorically softer around the edges ever since he and Remus had started growing closer.

Something was starting to bloom between the two sides, and Patton was not so sure it was a simple, innocent friendship anymore.

+++

Things came to a head one fateful Saturday afternoon, with Logan stuck revising schedules with Thomas and Remus doing who-knows-what in the Imagination.

The other sides were all lounging in the living room, all doing their own thing.

Then, Roman spoke up.

“Do you guys think something’s going on between Remus and Logan?”

Virgil, who was very much not expecting to hear something like that in the foreseeable future, jumped up from where he had been sprawled on the couch, headphones hanging limp from his neck as he stared wide-eyed at the creative side.

“Please tell me you’re not implying what I think you are implying.”

Roman shrugged, looking away as he scratched the base of his neck. “I don’t know what to tell you, Panic! At The Everywhere -I’m just asking.”

“If I have to be completely honest, actually,” piped up Patton from his place on the floor, stopping the episode of Parks & Rec they had been using as a background, “I have noticed some strange things too.”

“Right??” Roman exclaimed, “I saw them in the Imagination, last week, and I swear to god at one point Remus’ expression almost rivaled the way Logan usually looks at a jar of Crofters.”

“Whoa there Princey,” Virgil said, “don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little?”

“I know what I saw, J.D-lightful.”

“And I think Logan could be developing some feelings for Remus, even if he probably hasn’t quite realized it yet,” Patton added.

Virgil went to argue, but suddenly a realization struck him.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered in shock, suddenly looking like he was reevaluating everything he’d ever known.

“What?” Roman asked, confused.

“I caught Logan down in the kitchen, the other day,” Virgil explained, “he was brewing two cups of tea -which I found rather strange, really, but it was something like 3am so I didn’t question it too much. But I saw the name of the tea he brewed, and it felt familiar but I didn’t connect the dots until now.”

“Well?” Roman prompted, “We’re on the edge of our seats here, Marilyn Morose.”

“It was Kuding Tea, aka Remus’ favorite,” Virgil revealed. “He made us brew it all the time, and he was the only one able to drink that stuff because it’s one of the most bitter things you could ever try to swallow.”

Patton hummed, looking deep in thought. “Looks like those two might be closer than we thought.”

Roman grinned, something akin to mischief glinting in his eyes. “How about we help them grow just a little bit closer, uh?”

“We can discuss all of that later, Ro, but first there’s another thing we need to talk about,” Patton said, before turning to look at Virgil with a stern look on his face. “Virgil Sanders, what’s this I hear about you being up at 3am again?”

(Engrossed as they were in the new revelations, none of the sides noticed the tiny smirk stretching on Deceit’s face as he watched the scene unfold. He could have tried to stop them from trying to meddle, sure.

But where would be the fun in that?)

+++

As it turned out, not a single one of the sides’ plans came even close to its goal.

First came Patton’s idea, which was arguably the most subtle. They set up a family dinner, pestering the two sides until they confirmed their presence at the table. Then, very last minute, everyone gave random excuses as to why they couldn’t come. Everyone was sure it would work, even if they didn’t stick around to find out -knowing Remus’s tendency to make things rather… spicy, they didn’t want to find out what would happen after the two finally confessed their feelings.

However, when, the day after, they asked Logan how the dinner had gone, the logical side simply leveled them with a confused stare.

“Since you all weren’t there we just agreed to bring the food back to our rooms and keep doing our work -I still had some possible scripts to read through so it worked just fine for me.”

So, it looked like plan A had been a failure.

Roman, in all of his finesse and “romantic prowess” (his exact words), decided to put his own plan in action -which consisted of not-so-subtly shoving the two sides in the same room and “accidentally” break the doorknob, effectively trapping them inside.

(“Wow, a true Cupido alright.”

“Oh, shut up, you Emo Nightmare.”)

However, Roman’s incredible, astonishing, foolproof plan (again, his exact words) did not account for one specific aspect, aka Remus’ tendency of not letting puny, material things like doors keep him trapped.

In less than five minutes, the two sides were free once again, easily sidestepping what little remained of the door with Remus still holding his morning star in his hands.

And just like that, plan B joined its predecessor down the metaphorical toilet.

Last came Virgil’s plan, which was quite different from the other two’s -it was succinct, concise, and the farthest thing from subtle you could ever think of.

“Hey L,” he called one day, not even looking up from his phone, “what if you went and kissed Remus?”

Logan slowly looked up from his book. “... I apologize, what?”

Virgil shrugged, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding. Unless…?”

Logan blinked at him, looking thoroughly confused. “Virgil, are you unwell? How many hours of rest did you get last night?”

And that’s how plan C joined its sibling down in the metaphorical sewer.

(“Your plan was a meme??”

“At least I didn’t try to cliché them into a relationship, Princey.”)

Point is, by the end of the week the three sides had still to come up with a tactic that could actually work. So, they planned another brainstorm question in the living room.

Only, they appeared to have greatly miscalculated Remus and Logan’s whereabouts.

“Alright, you guys want to share with the class what the fuck is going on already?”

The three sides jumped in unison, whipping their heads around to stare at the two sides standing at the bottom of the stairs. Remus was leaning on the railing, looking at them expectantly, while Logan was standing just beside him with his arms crossed in front of his chest, one single eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“Uuuuuh…” Patton spoke up, looking at the other two in search of help, “language?”

“Pat, I think my language is the least of our problems now,” Remus retorted, refusing to drop the subject, “so, who wants to start talking first?”

The three sides, who looked like three deers caught in the headlights, seemed to grow more panicked by the second, searching for a possible explanation and coming up empty-handed.

“We found out you guys have a crush on each other and wanted to help you two get together!” Roman finally blurted.

“Roman!” Virgil growled, turning to glare at the creative side.

“I’m sorry!” Roman squeaked, throwing his arms up in frustration.

“You could have been a little more… tactful about it, kiddo,” Patton said, smiling nervously as they all waited with bated breath what the two’s reactions would be.

Logan and Remus blinked, dumbfounded. Then, they turned to look at each other, before Remus decided that the best course of action was, of course, to break down into hysterical giggles, compete with wheezing and tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

As for Logan, well, he limited himself to chuckling, looking downright amused by the whole situation.

So yeah, not exactly the reactions the others were expecting.

“... what?” Virgil asked, “please tell me I’m not the only confused one right now.”

“Apologies, Virgil,” Logan said, as Remus kept merrily cackling his lungs out on the floor, “we just thought something serious was going on, since you have all been acting strangely during the last week or so. Discovering that the reason behind your strange behavior was that, well, is rather amusing.”

“Wait, is that your way of telling us you actually don’t like Remus?” Roman said.

“Actually, I do like him, in a romantic sense,” Logan chuckled, throwing a fond look at the side wheezing on the ground. “We have been engaged in a romantic relationship for a while now.”

“... I know I probably sound like a broken record but what?”

“He wants to tap this booty, Vee!” Remus cackled, “and I’m 100% down for that!”

“ By the horn of a unicorn, please spare us the details,” Roman muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So that means you guys are already in a relationship?!” Patton exclaimed, a wide grin on his face as he clapped his hands in obvious delight, “oh my gosh, that’s so cute! I’m so happy for you guys!!”

“I don’t know if I want to be angry because you guys didn’t tell us or because my brother somehow managed to score a boyfriend before me,” Roman grumbled.

Logan and Remus shared a glance at that, mischief twinkling in both of their eyes. Then, once it appeared they were both on the same page, Remus spoke, barely stopping himself from giggling in anticipation.

“Actually we’re married, but go off I guess.”

Silence fell, seconds ticking by as the news started to sink in.

“Now hold on a second you guys aRE WHAT-”

And then, chaos.

#sanders sides #intrulogical #lomus #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #swearing #caps #intrulogical fluff #lomus fluff #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #maxiswriting

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nosferatyou · 4 years

Text

If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 5 (Jack White x OC)

Summary: Shes back in Nashville and Ben finally drags Lee out to a Third Man show. To Lee’s surprise, she runs into an old friend...

WC: 3k

Warnings: Cigarettes, maybe cursing (?), and death by Jack White.

Notes: Damn y’all its my best chapter to date. Honestly im pretty damn proud of this. Also why is jack white so damn hard to write. Is he a hard ass with a heart of gold, or a dad who happens to play guitar. When i figure it out ill let you know. PS. If you find my fic reference (or fic rec for anyone who hasn’t read it) shoutout to you. If youre anything like me you read the whole series in two days and couldn’t think about anything else. You probably also looked up Rosaries for sale.

This was 14 years in the making. We were bound to run into each other again. I was expecting it in a weird way. It always works out that way; you get over old turmoil, and the moment it’s gone, they show up. Your breath is sucked from your lungs, and you’re practically drowning on the spot even though you’re not even near water. Every single emotion in your being is trying to cram through your mouth, and you end up choking on it. Who knew it’d be today I die a death by Jack White. Guess I ran that risk when I entered his stomping grounds.

“Lee, I swear I didn’t know he’d be here. I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d known. I’m gonna buy you any record in the store, whatever you want. Oh god, how am I going to fix this? Guess I could do emergency distraction plan #6. Though id need a knife-” I subtly flicked the back of his arm to shut him up. His panicked ramblings were only making me more nervous. He was here, actually here. I guess I just thought I'd have a couple more years of peace.

He was staring so intensely at me, but not in anger or guilt. He was nervous. He was frozen and rigid. He was always so loose and eased into a room. Even when he was anxious, it never showed. As soon as I gained something from the absolute shock of it, all my body went against my brain. I felt my legs start to make their way over to him shakily, and there was no stopping them. Fuck I didn’t will this happen. Panic was bubbling up in my chest again. It didn’t help that he wasn’t reacting other than his eyes growing larger with each step I took. Finally, I reached him, and my arms tightly wrapped around him. This was better than the alternative that I thought would happen, which would end with a shiner and some bruised knuckles. He hadn’t grown length, but as I finally felt it all, I realized he'd grown into a man, out of his boyish figure from all those years ago. I sank into it, warm feelings bubbling up in my chest. I could finally breathe for a moment. He didn’t reciprocate my hug, but I met his eyes when I looked up at him, and all I could see was pure shock. I don’t think he would’ve moved if someone yelled fire.

He mumbled, “Why don’t we find somewhere a little more private to talk, Rosie.” I quickly nodded my head, and all that anxiety came back as soon as it was gone. I did not appreciate this little roller coaster I was on. He put his hand on my back to softly guide me to wherever we were going. It was a painfully silent walk as we weaved through Third Man. My brain kept flashing back to all the moments of our short end, mixing with all the good memories it made for a weird emotional cocktail. The more I thought about how little time we’d actually known each other, I got even more panicked. A year. That’s it, and I still acted like we were childhood friends who wronged each other. I shouldn’t be feeling all of this over a man who had such little time in my life. Still, that doesn’t change that he was at the forefront of my mind for all those years after. God, his hand was burning me where it lay.

I hadn’t realized we’d made it to the spot until his words broke my thoughts. “Welcome to the Third Man roof, my secret spot, if you will.” I looked up to see a couple of lawn chairs and a crate between them, acting as a makeshift table. Cigarette butts strewed around the chair farthest from the edge. Jack was already walking towards what I assumed to be his chair. In tow, I followed, pulling my pack out of my pocket and lighting a cig. If this was going to happen, I was going to need a goddamn cigarette. He grimaced at the sight of Marlboros, pulling out his pack. Red Camels, still the same all these years later. Somethings just don’t change. Guess that’s comforting.

“I thought you were a camels girl. What happened there?” He was already reaching for another to hand to me.

“Oh, just had to settle when on tour for whatever others had. It just stuck, I guess…” A lie. I put mine out on the ground when I sat down and grabbed the nostalgic camel out of his hand, our fingers barely touching.

We sat in silence, smoking a piece of our past. I sure as hell didn’t know where to start, and I don’t think he did either. My body took over just as it had before and did what I couldn’t manage. I was blurting out words before I knew what was happening.

I stumbled out, “I bought all your records over the years.” Smooth.

A small smile fell onto his face, and he took another drag. “I did the same thing.” He looked over at me, quickly looked me over, then took a quick drag and put it on on the ground. “Have a favorite?”

I pretended to think like I hadn’t thought of having a favorite. “I guess I’d have to say Consolers of the Lonely, but if we’re talking The Stripes, I’d have to say De Stijl. Though I always feel like I should say your first, since you know, I’m on it.” I sent a small smile his way and started to ease into my seat more. Not sitting up so straight, ready to bolt at any moment. “What about you, Jack? Hm? Have a Rosalie Wright favorite?”

He answered without hesitation, “Surrender. I really liked that sound you had in 2004, where you got dirty and loud. It was a big change from your old blues tone. Someone told me it was because you moved to New Jersey, which honestly makes sense.” He stopped for a second and looked off. “That band, Leathermouth. When that album dropped, I played it when I was working in the upholstery shop, and Karen walked in. She turned right around after hearing, I think... My love has gone flat? I don’t know, but she asked me if I was doing okay at dinner that night.” He quietly laughed to himself, thinking over the memory.

“Anyone who wasn’t in the band asks me the same thing! They all said, “Hey, your new albums great! How are you doing? You need someone to talk to?” My smile fell. “Too bad all the guys found god. Nothing against that, of course! Just sucks they had to quit the band. Not Frankie, though. He wouldn’t find god even if he came to him on a piece of toast. I’d probably take some freak case of Stigmata for him even to consider it… Why am I still talking?” I blushed, realizing I'd been rambling too long about nothing that probably interested him

Jack waved his hand in the air to dismiss my worries. “We’ve got years to catch up on, Rosie. Besides, I’ve missed your ramblings.” He lit two more cigs, handing one over to me. His stare lingered on me, and his eyes softened from his stoic face. “I really have missed you, Rosie… All these years and I’m still not quite sure what you’ve been up to. I’ve only heard things here and there from Ben.” He took a long drag. “Where have you been all this time?”

I took a deep breath in, knowing the answer wouldn’t be the best. I spent a fair amount of drinking myself into oblivion over something he caused, so I kept my answer brief, “Oh, you know, toured, drank, slept in fans and friends basements. You know, a typical musician’s life. Oh! Got put on the FBI watchlist over a Leathermouth song. That was a fun night for Frankie and me.”

He chuckled, put out his cig, and turned his body towards me. The same warm smile was adorning him. As I said, some things just don’t change. “I mean, I don’t know what you expected when you play a song with that title. It’s one of the only things you legally can’t say.”

“Punk is punk, Jack. Too bad I was only playing guitar. I would’ve loved to scream that.” I put my cig out and put all my attention towards him. I hadn’t thoroughly looked at him the whole time we were up there. “It was hard not to stay caught up with you, Jack. You were everywhere. I tried not to pry, though. I never trusted the press. Though I heard about the divorce last year… I’m sorry you had to go through that again.”

His smile faltered, and he stared down at his hands for a second. “It was inevitable. We were too different for it to last. I guess this shit always happens for a reason, huh? We just fell out of love, and that was that. I had a party to commemorate new friendships and everything. At least she can’t hide my Billie Holiday records now…” He trailed off on that last sentence. I could barely hear it, but I caught the small comment. He still thought about me. I didn’t mention it though. I could barely think back to the old memories. Me making him dance with me to Billie Holiday's self titled album. I guess I just wanted to feel like we were really together back then, creating that fantasy. I felt like I had to wave my imaginary hands around in my head to clear out the memories that had risen to the surface. He was making it so hard to have a clear head.

We stayed quiet for a moment. He seemed lost in his thoughts. We were always good at comfortable silences. I think we just liked being in each other’s presence, having that person next to you. It was weird to think that I only had these old images of him to think back to. He looked so different. He was built, his face filled out, his height would make him look skinnier than he was back then. He’s muscular, probably from years of touring with heavy equipment. He looked his age. His eyes hadn’t changed though. His face was almost menacing for how serious it naturally rested. His eyes stayed bright, excited for everything ahead of him. He always hid that, and he probably still does.

“I’m sorry, Rosie. For everything that happened. It was selfish of me to -” I cut him off. This was for another day. I don’t think I could handle drudging up the past tonight.

“Make it up to me some other time. I just want to enjoy you tonight.” I sent a smile his way and went to stand up. “Better make it good though.” I went to lean against the wall to take in the Nashville skyline I missed so much.

I heard the gravel crunch underneath his shoes as he made his way next to me. His lighter clicked, and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the air. Moments later, he appeared next to me, cigarette in hand, ready for me to take. He clicked his lighter on and offered it out for me to light. I leaned in close and took a heavy drag. My eyes caught his left hand, cupping around the flame. No ring. It really was done, no lingering feelings. I moved back to lean against the small wall, leaning my head against my hand. I tried not to focus on the emotions that stirred in me when I noticed the absent metal on his finger.

“I really did miss this. Detroit was beautiful, but it never could beat the Nashville skyline. Maybe I was just missing home.” I finally got to take in the scenery around us. September in Nashville has never really been cold. I feel like I should be worried about that, but if I can avoid a sweater, I will. It was a comfortable kind of warm. You could sit out on your porch and not think about a thing. The small breeze was nice, taking away from the constant humidity. Then there was that constant. It never felt like Nashville’s downtown ever changed from far away. It was just stuck in time. The deeper you go, the more you realize the magic of music city is being taken over by honky tonks and drunk bachelorettes. Though the farther you drift away, the more you can feel like you're in the good ole days of classic Nashville. Back when the Ernest Tubb Record Shop didn't have a constant flow of Lynyrd Skynyrd cover bands but had undiscovereds like Loretta. Now you just have to settle for the sights and the small music scene curated by The End.

“Is it bad I feel the same way? Even if it’s not home home, it still feels like it. I think the skyline reminded me of coming home after long tours. It’s always the first thing you see. It’s a comfort.”

We weren’t touching technically, but our shoulders were so close I could feel it. I think he was deliberately keeping his space. I should be mad or angry. Something. But the feeling of him next to me was just as calming as the views. That same feeling of home lulling you in. He always felt like that to me. That dumb warm feeling in your chest that makes heavier days just a little lighter. It’s a bit shameful that I feel it all now, just as strong as back then.

“You know the only reason I came tonight is because Ben told me you wouldn’t be here. Something about your kids,” I took a drag. “Not that I regret coming! I just- Kids. How fucking weird is that? Never pictured you with kids. I always saw you as the same lanky kid from before.”

He snorted and bumped my shoulder with his own. “You know I found it odd you never had any. I mean, you were always weirdly maternal with Ben back when he was a teenager. You about took my head off when I told you I gave him a couple of beers. Oh, and those times I practically had to rip Jasper out of your arms after we got home from one of our first tours.”

“He was 16! His brain wasn’t fully formed yet, plus your mom would’ve murdered you.” I gave his arm a small playful hit and took another drag. “And I just haven’t had the time. Or the means to. I mean, I dated like two guys? Both were shit bag roadies who lasted all of two weeks. I kissed Frankie once, but the moment it ended, we about threw up. He’s a different kind of family. His kids call me Auntie Lee if that says anything.”

The conversation ended at that, and we fell back into our silence. I looked over and saw a small, content smile on his face that I was so used to seeing. Some things just don’t change.

It feels weird sitting here with him. We both were so happy to see each other. We just wanted to enjoy this time. At least, I think he’s the same way. He seems guarded, it’s subtle, but that wall is there. He used to be like this, but for different reasons. Secret wife reasons. I can only assume that now it’s the fame he’s been showered with. You can't show all your feelings with recognition like that. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him checking his watch. He muttered out shit when seeing the time.

Exasperatingly he said, “Speaking of kids, I’ve got to get home. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I promised Scarlett I'd be home to say goodnight.”

My smile faltered a little, but my heart grew at the comment about scarlet. He’s always loved so hard. It was only natural that he would be a good father.

We both put out our cigs and silently made our way out to where his car parked. I just mindlessly followed along, definitely not thinking about him and how wonderful he probably was with his kids.

When we got there, we just kind of stood there. Neither of us knew how to say goodbye. It was never something we did.

“I’m really glad I got to see you tonight, Rosie. Seriously.”

My body betrayed me, just like it had in the recording room. I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly, except this time, I could enjoy it a little more. His frame was so warm compared to the chilly September night. He finally wrapped his arms around me and practically threw himself into the embrace. He had no hesitation whatsoever. I nuzzled my face into his chest, a bit too shamelessly, but this was 14 years in the making.

When we finally (and hesitantly) pulled away, he asked, “ Listen, I don’t think I can just walk around town knowing you’re here and not see you. Can we get coffee or something? I don’t care what we do as long as it’s with you.”

I felt a giant smile fall onto my face. I was afraid this whole time we would just kind of say goodbye and not talk again. It was dumb to feel so happy over a small gesture, but it was just what I was looking for. He was infectious back then, and he is. Once you fall back into his circle, you never wanted to leave. “I’ll agree to coffee only if,” I gave him a playful poke in the side, “you help me fix my amp. I can usually do it, but I really did a number on her this time.” I held out my hand for him to shake. It’s not a deal if you don’t shake on it.

“It’s a date then.” A small smile appeared on his face, and he grabbed my hand to shake it.

“It’s a date.” We stood their just shaking hands and smiling at each other. We probably looked insane from far away, but who cares. Me and Jack were on the road to reasonable terms.

Tag list: @shamoane @elinyaes

#jack white #the white stripes #nosferatyou writes #if i can be so bold fic #if i can be so bold #the raconteurs #leathermouth #frank iero #UHV reference #can you tell that ive hyper fixated on frank as well #its obvious i know #gotta slide him into my works somehow #also they really got to cut down on the cigs #the bastards #also ben whats the distraction plan number 6 #im curious #and as i always say #bet Jack is a bottom #bet you like 5 bucks and the little clay mushroom house i made

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shit-she-wrote · 4 years

Photo

Genre: Crime

Summary: An elder woman enjoys a splendid morning in her house. Her husband, however, is unusually quiet.

Word count: 1954

Content warning: murder, blood, death

Author’s note: Another prompt-fill for a Reedsy contest (with Agatha Christie inspired prompts, I really couldn’t resist!) a while ago and y’all, I had so much fun writing this!!! Also a big shoutout to all the lovely fellow writers on my favorite writing discord that were cheering me on – if you see this, y’all really motivated me to write this, thank you so much!!! Enjoy reading this! :D

(also, if anyone would be so kind as to by me a coffee on kofi for my work, it would be greatly appreciated 😅💗)

Barely Alive

a short story

For the first time in quite a while, Mrs. Merlyn Marble wakes up with a smile on her face. What a beautiful morning, she thinks, quiet and peaceful and fresh. A breeze of morning air is coming through her open window and she half sits up, regarding the curtains in their slow morning dance against it. Getting up, she crosses the room to catch a glimpse of the view from her bedroom, for the day outside was truly something to behold. Her garden blooming with spring flowers, her grass greener than green, and the slow-paced stream of the River Eye right beneath her window alight with a silver sparkle of the grey skies.

She puts on a morning robe and ties her gray curls into a low bun before heading downstairs. She stops in the living room for a second, determined to tidy it up a bit, just to make it as pleasant as she feels. She rearranges the pillows on the sofa, places the remote control by the television, pushes the big vase on the cupboard just a little to the left to have it right in the center. To top it all off, she even turns on the old gramophone, switching her husband’s favorite record for her own, and she hums along to the evergreen songs of Ella Fitzgerald as she is finally satisfied with the way her living room looks. Her husband isn’t going to like it one bit, especially not the new pillow arrangement and the fact that he will have to get up to get the remote, but today Merlyn hardly cares about his possible complaints.

Speaking of her husband, she finds him in the dining room, still sat at the same spot as last night.

“Good Heavens, Joseph,” she playfully berates him. “Did you even move since last night? You look like you haven’t slept a wink.”

Joseph Marble very pointedly doesn’t answer her. Alright, so maybe he is still a bit sour about their fight at dinner. Nonetheless, Merlyn isn’t going to let him spoil her pleasant mood with his stubborn antics.

Putting on the kettle, she hums along to the sweet music coming from the living room, as she rearranges the boxes of tea before picking a bag from her favorite brand, then a bag of her husband’s favorite for him. Maybe they have had some disagreements last night, but she isn’t going to be too petty to make him a cuppa because of it.

Glancing out of the window, she notices the postman approaching their house. Oh, Charles! He is always so delightful when it comes to exchanging pleasantries. She rushes to the door to greet him, smiling brightly.

“Oh, Mrs. Marble, good morning!” he calls to her when he sees her stepping outside and carries the mail straight to her instead of placing it into the mailbox.

“Merlyn, Charles, please. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Yes, yes, of course, apologies. How are you doing today?”

“Oh, quite well, thank you! It’s such a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” Merlyn exclaims. “Joseph and I were just fixing to start breakfast. Care to join us? For a cup of tea at least.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Charles chuckles and starts rummaging around his satchel. “Besides, the new issue of Lower Slaughter Gazette came today. Joseph was telling me just last week how you keep your nose buried inside their crossword puzzle section whenever you get your hands on it.”

“And the day gets better!” Merlyn cries gleefully as she accepts the local newspaper. “Thank you, Charles. Have a nice day.”

He leaves just as she hears the kettle whistling. Of course, Joseph doesn’t care to take it off the stove, she has to do everything herself.

“One or two sugars, darling?” she calls out to him. No answer. Very well. One sugar, then. He has to watch his blood pressure, anyway. She sets his cup of tea in front of him and hers by the newspaper. She cuts up a few loaves of bread and sets it on the table along with some butter and her cousin’s homemade strawberry jam, which she usually saves for truly outstanding days.

“Oh, the Mill Museum is getting renewed, that’s nice,” she mutters around her cup of tea. “Don’t you think it’s nice, dear?”

She flips through the pages, glancing idly at the titles, and stops at the obituaries.

“Oh, dear,” she says remorsefully. “Gilbert Blight has passed away two days ago. What a shame. He’s always reminded me of you, you know? A bit rough around the edges, but quite sweet when he wanted to be. And now he’s dead, just like that. We’ll have to attend the funeral, of course. Tomorrow afternoon, at three o’clock. Oh, and those poor children of his! I’ll have to ask if there is anything I can do.”

She puts the newspaper down to spread butter and jam on her slice of bread.

“I’m surprised how long you’re keeping up with the silent treatment, Joseph. I’m just talking to myself at this point. You usually have a snide remark to go with everything I am saying. Am I not rambling on too much today?” She pauses, waiting for an answer as she bites into her breakfast. “Well? Nothing? Hm. You know, this just proves my exact point last night. But I’m not getting back into that. Let’s just have a nice, silent breakfast.”

And silent it is, for the next ten minutes. Joseph doesn’t touch his food, nor does he drink the tea before it gets cold, but Merlyn lets him sulk in peace. They have said everything that needed to be said last night, no need to drag it all on forever. At least she can look past her anger to have a lovely breakfast and enjoy a morning as nice as this one.

She flips over to the end of the newspaper where her beloved crossword puzzle is waiting, gloriously blank and absolutely perfect for a morning such as this one. Ella Fitzgerald is still playing in the background – it’s almost odd to hear it, having grown used to the perfect silence that Joseph has always demanded at breakfast. But Joseph doesn’t seem to mind it this morning and it makes Merlyn happy to finally enjoy this simple pleasure.

“Hm, what was that actor’s name again? Grant something, four letters … Hugh!” Victoriously, she writes the name down. “Oh, and that makes for a … murder … of crows, across.”

Usually, Joseph would already start complaining about her annoying habit of thinking out loud. Just as he would complain about the music and the rearrangements in the living room, and about his tea not being sweet enough.

“You know,” Merlyn ponders aloud, “I quite like this new you. The strong and silent type, who opts to suffer in silence rather than just complain about everything that’s bothering him. This silent treatment isn’t so bad. In fact, I’m wondering why we haven’t had last night’s argument sooner.”

She takes another sip of her tea and adds another word to the crossword.

“Well, I suppose this is not even that different from any other time. You never really enjoyed talking to me, did you?” She discloses the statement in a half-whisper as if it were an unspoken secret between them. “It makes me wonder sometimes, why you even married me at all, a chatterbox you didn’t care for. Because you never actually cared for me, did you? Not enough for us to have any children that I have always wanted, anyway. Not enough for you to even notice when I’ve dyed my hair a different color. At some point, I even stopped dying my hair altogether and your only comment was that I suddenly looked older than before.”

Even after such an earnest speech, not a single word of protest comes from Joseph. She is almost delighted to be finally saying this to his face, even if thirty-four years too late.

“I don’t even think you noticed how miserable I was, not really. You were too wrapped in your own misery to think of my own, weren’t you?” Turning her attention back to the crossword, she almost laughed at the irony of the next clue. “Would you look at that, Joseph. End of marriage, seven letters across. Do you have any guesses? Of course you don’t. Had you ever thought of the word divorce, we wouldn’t be in this mess now. It’s kind of lucky I thought of another word that is just as effective, wouldn’t you agree?”

Still smiling, she looks up at him and beams at what she sees. Her dear husband, Joseph Marble, whom she had promised to love until death did them part, is half crouched in his chair, sickly pale and unmoving. His glassy eyes are staring into empty space before him and he no longer needs to blink, nor close his hung-open jaw. His shirt is painted red-brown with the dried stain of blood that spread from the wound in his chest, right where Merlyn had rammed the kitchen knife into his chest last night and left it there. She is going to need to take it back and clean it by lunchtime, of course, it would be a nightmare cutting up the vegetables with any other knife. But for now, it looked quite nice with the blade stuck inside of Joseph’s torso.

“So? You’re still not going to say anything?” she taunts him, almost mercilessly. “Well, you can’t really be this bitter about me killing you. Let’s be honest, you’ve barely been alive for most of our marriage, anyways.”

Sighing, she regards him for a moment. He looks unreal, like a disgusting puppet set up clumsily in a chair. Some of the blood has sprayed the table, she will have to clean that up. She always had to clean up after his own messes. But it’s not like he can lift a finger to help her with household chores now. What a perfect excuse to sit around all day death has given him.

“So, what am I going to do with you now?” she asks him, leaning her head a little to the side to catch his empty stare. “I can’t just bury you out there in the garden. Whatever will the neighbors think? And I can’t move you to the basement, you’re far too heavy and I am no longer as young and spry as I once was. I must say, this is the one consequence of mariticide I hadn’t thought of.”

Joseph, bless his soul, remains compassionately silent. She really doesn’t need him telling her how stupid she is for not planning ahead.

“Well, I suppose you can stay here for a few more days until I think of something,” she decides after a brief consideration. “It’s not like we’re expecting any company soon. And I can open up some windows when you start to smell.”

She sets the crossword down for a moment to clean the table after breakfast and pours herself some more tea. Sitting back down, she looks at the deadman across from her and helplessly allows another giddy smile to spread across her face.

“So, do you have any plans for today? Anything that needs doing?” She is met by blessed silence. “No? Well, then I am sure you’ll be more than excited to hear all about my plans for today and for the rest of the week. Just stop me if you feel like I’m talking too much.”

Joseph simply sits there, eyes open and unblinking, chest bloody and unmoving. He has never been such a great listener as he is now.

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lookslikezombiesatbest · 4 years

Text

Absolutely - Ernest Sinclair x MC

Hi! This is my first ever fanfic as well as my first fanfic I’m ever posting. I hope you guys like it! you can also read it on ao3! I don’t really have a fanbase (although I sincerely thank all 82 of my followers who aren’t bots for chilling with me lmao), so I don’t really have anyone to tag, but I’d just like to do a special shoutout to my main motivator and one of my closest friends @blondeslytherin for giving me the courage to actually publish my writing. She’s also really incredible at writing and does MCOMISSIONS so please check her out because she’d love to hear from you!

Description: This takes place right before the duel when they go up to the ancient castle. I took a few liberties on how they got there as well as the outfits but kept it mostly true to the scene. As the duel bears down on their perfect romance, how will Lady Alaina and Mr. Sinclair relax?

Warnings: none! pure fluff, but mostly because I wrote this for my creative writing class, and my teacher would not like heavy smut (or at least she’d never admit to liking it)

Despite the high summer temperatures during the daytime, the early evening chill had begun to set in as she walked through the field, Mr. Sinclair at her side, stoic and melancholy as ever. The morning after was to be grim, with the duel for her hand in marriage, but for the night, Lady Alaina simply wanted to forget about the coming dawn and stay under the stars with her true love. She continued walking silently but reached her hand out to brush his knuckles. He sputtered, trying to speak, but simply stopped his attempt as she turned his attention towards him. They were alone, which was highly inappropriate for a woman engaged to someone else to be in such close proximity to another man, but when he had thrown rocks at her window to invite her on this excursion, she had decided to forget the rules associated with her status. For tonight, she was simply Mr. Sinclair’s love. He continued to stare at her, eyes wide and cheeks painted red.

“You certainly are a modest man, are you not, Mr. Sinclair?” Despite being on a first-name basis with the man, she still liked to tease him with the formality. He took a gulp as he looked at her.

“I consider myself in that regard, yes. I apologize for stopping. We will soon arrive at the castle,” he managed to shake himself out of the reverie of his love for her. She simply nodded and turned to walk forward, but felt her breath hitch as she felt his fingers close between her own. Now was her turn to blush as she turned to him once more. He broke his resolve to give her a small smile, and they continued walking through the field. They reached the castle with the sun just beginning to set behind it, and Lady Alaina paused to take in the sight. She watched the beauty of all around her, as did Mr. Sinclair; he, however, was not staring at the sun or the castle. He watched her absorb the scene and felt his heart flutter at her own beauty. She was his, at least for tonight. In her shock, he watched her drop her shawl to the ground, leaving her shoulders uncovered. His blush extended down to his neck this time at her revealed skin. He retrieved her shawl from the ground and looked down at it in his hands to avoid seeming inappropriate. He looked back up upon hearing a small giggle come from Lady Alaina.

“One would think you’ve never seen a shoulder before, Ernest,” she taunted him, urging him to walk over to her, run his hand up her arm, interact with her in some way to confirm he was hers. He gave a chuckle and slowly stepped towards her.

“I rarely have the pleasure of seeing yours,” he whispered to her, not wanting to disturb the peace of the sunset around them. He accentuated his point by wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss to her exposed skin. She sighed happily in his arms.

“I envy Duke Richards for even getting the privilege of calling you his fiancee. Once you are married, he will, by word of law, be able to see you in the same state as I see you now,” Ernest hated to say it, but he was never one to mince his words. He felt his love sigh out of frustration at her predicament.

“This duel is to change that, though, right? You will win, the Duke will never be able to see me again, and we will be together forever, and一,” she rambled on with her wishes for a life with Mr. Sinclair before he stopped her with two hands on her shoulders.

“My love, we must prepare for the worst, you know that,” he gently spoke. She sighed once more.

“I know of it, but must I think of it? Right now, I wish to just simply be with you as if our wedding was tomorrow. This castle is even the perfect venue,” she breathed her last sentence as she turned to look at the castle. It was classified as ruins, but many of the stained glass windows and rooms were still intact. The young couple walked into each room, reminiscing about memories they had never had.

“This seems like a parlor! I wonder the ancient gossip and secrets shared in here,” she said, giggling slightly at the thought. Ernest smiled, but not at the joke. He watched her cheeks flush and her excitement increase as they moved to the next room.

This room, a bedroom, contained a large stained glass window and no roof. Despite the piles of hay throughout the room, Alaina found no trouble in imagining the grand state the room must have been in years ago. She saw a bed facing the window and lavish furniture lining the walls. She cast a sly glance at Ernest.

“Well, Mr. Sinclaire. I do love the room, as much as I love being called Mrs. Sinclaire,” she exclaimed, watching his eyes widen at her declaration. He coughed and tried to use his hand to hide his blush from her, but she grabbed his fingers and led him to one of the sides of the room where the wall was missing. Despite the sun having gone down, the moon still shone brightly directly on the castle, giving illumination to Alaina’s bright smile. They sat on the edge of the wall, holding hands as if that would keep each other from falling; in reality, it only made them fall harder.

“I….quite like it when you call yourself that. Do you really think….we can be together?” Ernest cast a glance at his shoes, not wanting to get his hopes up about the woman in front of him. She gently brought his chin up so that his eyes would meet hers. With certainty, she whispered her answer before gently kissing him in the light of the moon.

“Absolutely.”

#playchoices #desire and decorum #playchoices: desire and decorum #ernest sinclaire #ernest x mc #ernestxmc #fanfic

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commentaryvorg · 4 years

Text

THANK YOU!!!!!

Thank you so so much to everyone who’s been reading this commentary! I cannot express how much it’s meant to have other people along for this ride with me. I started writing this for myself and would have kept posting it just for the sake of putting it out there even if nobody had been responding to it at all. But having other people engage with it and enjoy it has turned it into so much more to me than it already was. Writing and posting this commentary has been such a huge part of my life for this past year, so the knowledge that it’s been even a small part of even a few other people’s lives makes me so happy. That big smile that I drew Kaito with here? That’s also me, smiling at you.

Special shoutouts to those people who made a habit of liking every post once they read it, by the way! Not that I have any problem with anyone not giving the posts a like when they read, as I know different people have different standards for when they give a post a like – if I was following and enjoying a similar blog, I wouldn’t have given each post a like either. But it meant a lot to have a small handful of people whom I could know had read and enjoyed a post once it’d gone up. I started to get this warm fuzzy feeling of “the gang’s all here” whenever I’d see all the usual people’s likes pop up on a new post, which, yes, I always kept an eye on. If you’ve ever made a habit of regularly liking my posts here, whether you kept it up through the whole thing or not, you are part of The Gang to me and even if you’ve never directly interacted with me through ask or otherwise, I love you more than you know.

(If anyone whom I don’t think of as part of The Gang because they have different post-liking habits wanted to let me know that they’ve always been reading too, I would be absolutely thrilled! I imagine that a decent amount of my followers were reading, but I can’t be sure all of them were since people drift in and out of things on tumblr, you know?)

And extra special shoutouts to anyone who sent any kind of ask that gave me a chance to say even more words about this story and helped me feel that people were really engaging with what I had to say. I know most of you were anons, but based on writing styles I’m pretty damn sure that it was quite a few different anons, so I love you all as well despite not even knowing your names. I’m still totally open for any more asks about anything I’ve talked about even though posting of the commentary proper is officially over. Just saying.

So… what about the future?

You might have noticed that this blog’s name doesn’t specifically refer to DRV3. This is because I was always planning for this to not only be a blog for this one specific commentary, and that I’d maybe also start doing similar things for other works of fiction once this one was done. That was just a tentative plan at the start, but after how much I enjoyed doing this, I really would like to keep doing something along these lines for the foreseeable future.

Whatever it is, though, it won’t be more Danganronpa – I like DR1 and 2, but not nearly enough to commentate on them in this much ridiculous depth. And I understand that basically everyone who’s following me right now was here specifically for DRV3, and you’re not necessarily going to be interested in whatever I move on to, which is absolutely fine. If you want to unfollow this blog now, or at some point in future whenever I’m posting something new that isn’t DRV3, I will not be offended in the least. Honestly, I’m going to be more surprised (in the best possible way) if anyone actually did want to stick around just for me and my commentary on something that they probably won’t be familiar with.

That said, there will still always be the chance of more DRV3 tidbits on this blog here and there, as I will still thoroughly accept and answer asks related to my V3 commentary at any time, even after the blog’s main focus moves onto something else. (That means you, person who’s just finished reading my V3 commentary way in the future even though this hasn’t been actively a V3 blog for ages – send me asks about it anyway! They might take me longer to answer, but I will still care!) I’ve also been vaguely toying with the idea of making a few small posts with little addendums to the existing commentary – I reread this thing a lot, and occasionally I see a point I made in the past that I feel like I could significantly elaborate on or clarify now, since I keep gaining an ever greater understanding of this story the more I think about it. Maybe that’ll happen, but again, that’ll only be minor tidbits here and there. Up to you if you want to stick around for those or not.

Also, while I’m basically done with commentary-style stuff, that’s only because there just isn’t anything else left to cover. I still haven’t yet run out of ideas for DRV3 content in general, so do keep an eye on my main blog for that! I am hoping to get out not one but multiple more rambles about Kaito, some essentially summarising things I’ve talked about here and some not. There’s also a bunch of AU scenarios I’ve had floating around my head for ages that I want to get out somewhere. Plus arts, of course. The V3 bug (or I guess more specifically the Kaito bug, let’s be real here) has not left me yet, and I still don’t quite want it to.

On the off-chance anybody is thinking of sticking around here not just for potential DRV3 tidbits but for a whole new commentary (and, again, I am not expecting this of anyone), well… it’ll be a while. While I have a couple of ideas of what to do, I haven’t started writing anything yet, and since I really appreciated being able to schedule things twice-weekly, I’d like to have a decent backlog built up before I start posting anything so that I’ll be able to do that again. So I’ll only officially announce the new commentary here once I’ve built up said backlog and feel like I’m ready.

But whether you’ll be here for the next ride or not, again, thank you, so much.

#this training trio drawing is all for you #i love you all #you are the best #you made me feel just a little bit like a luminary #so this seems appropriate #danganronpa v3

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theythinkimabitch · 5 years

Note

Oooooh, for the drabbles: Lizzington + 22!!! :D

I won’t lie, I’m pretty nervous about this. This was sent almost two weeks ago, I think and I’m so sorry that it took me so long! 😬 This came to me a lot easier than I thought it would, but I kept rereading it and then thanks to @apicturewithasmile ‘s remind, I realized Lizzington Week was starting and that the freestyle day would be a good day to post it! That being said, HUGE and I mean huge thanks to @isa-renee for beta reading everything despite not being part of the fandom (she writes too so shoutout to her for her awesome work; I highly recommend) Oh! And big thank you to @codewordpumpkin for encouraging me to post and OF COURSE @meetmeatthecoda for being the sweetest! But, without further adieu because I’m obviously rambling to avoid getting to the point, my Lizzington Week contribution and Drabbles Prompt:

(I’m keeping it under the cut as a final buffer but ANY feedback whatsoever is always greatly appreciated! I hope someone enjoys! :P)

Dialogue Prompt: “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Again they found themselves in a situation quite familiar to them both.

"We might have a problem."

It was a part of life. Their life, at least.

"Aram ran a background check on the guest list."

Mayhem and illustrious adventures seemed to be one and the same.

"Apparently..."

It was all in the best of ways, of course. Because after a life in intelligence, normal had become boring, and as Raymond Reddington would affirm to anyone who dared to question him, he was anything but boring.

"Hey," Liz breathed out, as she secured her earrings, "Don't you look nice?"

Raymond himself turned right around, smoothing his hands over his tux, preparing a smile reserved just for her before it quickly fell away.

Nice was a word to describe him. But in being the gentleman that he was, Red found himself struggling for quite a while to provide even just a moderately intelligible response.

The thing was, you see...

"Ah..."

As a matter of fact...

"Hm..."

"You alright there?" she quipped.

Oh, seeing her smile and watching her blue eyes twinkle only made it all the more difficult.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Laughter. Laughter was good.

Laughter wasn't quite what managed to fall out, but Red figured it was close enough.

"Lovely, Lizzie."

Her eyebrows rose on her forehead, red lips twisting in a tampered smile as she waited for further explanation.

"You look lovely."

Then came the nod. Her smile wasn't gone quite yet--nor would he have wished for it to ever fade--but she let out a hum of appreciation, walking over to the mantle to grab the last-minute necessities.

"Ready?" Liz questioned, preparing herself with a roll of her shoulders and a look of classy determination.

"Ah, yes," Red replied, eyes snapping back up quickly to meet her own, an excitement of his own filtering through his veins, "And oh, we mustn't forget your clutch, Lizzie. It's very important."

It was very important, indeed, Liz had decided. For, after all, cloning their target's phone would prove to be quite the challenge without the pocket sniffer Aram had given her. Despite it all, as she gracefully took Red's extended arm, she couldn't help but think about the last time she'd brought a clutch and how much he'd liked it then.

There tended to be two schools of thought when it came to partaking in more dubious enterprises. As it were, this act in which the pair partook was decidedly not as black and white as they could have hoped. That was, as a matter of fact, why they had been chosen to go together.

Despite his insistence that there were better and more useful ways his night could be spent--he was hard-pressed to think of any; it was his same insistence after all that had the task force infiltrating the group at a dance and not out and about as the FBI preferred to do--Donald's adamance that what they were doing was wrong, illegal, morally reprehensible had forced Cooper to force Red to join the party.

Harold himself had been counting on Red's typical discretion in similar matters to keep Agent Keen from harm’s way and grab the intel seamlessly. The issue was, however, those two schools of thought.

Despite Red's secret appreciation for the most flamboyant and over the top manners of distraction--as a matter of fact, he hadn't been hit on by an awful Algerian--Red hadn't prepared himself for that specific method of execution.

Oh, no.

Red had fully anticipated needing to coax Lizzie out of her shell. Having to tease boundaries, and practice once more their mental milonga until the fun had been had and the job had been done in the most inexcusable and roundabout of ways.

But now Red was left with all these tricks up his sleeve and no way to execute them. Red was ready to slip through the night undetected, to complete the task to what he hoped would be Lizzie's frustrated approval.

He so loved to see her flustered.

Lizzie, as it turned out, was one that came armed with her own set of distractions.

He should've learned by now. Between the daring red dress of times prior and the delectable blonde hair of ages before, he should've learned by then the way Lizzie operated.

Lizzie worked best on her own. Lizzie had garnered all the attention the moment she walked in, sashaying around the venue with unbridled confidence and poise, a hint of mysterious intrigue enough to lure prospects from all over.

It was then Red had decided to venture out on his own, watch her lovingly from afar, eyes latched onto the masterpiece that slipped throughout the museum as he mingled casually around the bar, drink ready for her on the chance she decided for herself she was ready to settle down.

"Is that for me?" came the question, not a moment too soon.

"Well, aren't you presumptuous?" he asked, soaking in another glance at the flushed adrenaline-powered glow their mission provided her with.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, not sorry at all, as evidenced by the way she pulled the glass up to her lips, batting her long lashes coquettishly over the rim, "Is an Aviation Cocktail a trick you use on all the ladies?"

He couldn't help but laugh in response, shifting over in his barstool, turning his attention to focus, as it often did, on nothing but her, "Lizzie, you underestimate me."

"Is that so?" she asked, swallowing and placing her drink back on the black coaster.

"Some girls such as yourself are winters, not autumns and must be adjusted for accordingly."

"And it tasting like spring?" she wondered, "Don't tell me your plan hinges on us winters enjoying the change of pace."

She was brilliant, and that was all Red could manage to think. Being in love with a profiler didn't allow for very many thinly veiled secrets.

"Is the mission now officially accomplished?" Red diverted.

He couldn't have her knowing all of his secrets now.

She looked away, smile still on her face, a gentle glow appearing that had made him uneasy.

"Do you really care?" she asked finally, her elbow resting on the table as she focused solely on him, "You didn't just want to come to the party?"

"Oh, I wanted to come to the party, Lizzie," he assured, deciding that honesty would perhaps be just as likely to catch her off guard, "But the plan was to come with you."

It was his turn to be sipping on his drink letting the other stew. Scotch on the rocks, for a man such as himself. He let her look at him as he smiled comfortably, reaching for the bowl of pretzels he'd been munching on.

He so did love pretzels.

"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

It seemed honesty was a thing neither was quite used to.

"I know you’ve been watching me the whole time, Raymond."

Came with the territory of life on the run, he supposed.

Red smiled, turning back to her, grinning in the tight-lipped way he often did when Lizzie had him pinned down before he'd expected to have all his tricks so hastily revealed.

How could anyone focus on anything but her? Amidst the Picassos and Rembrandts, Elizabeth Keen was the one masterpiece Raymond Reddington wouldn’t be able to survive without.

"You look utterly ravishing, sweetheart."

He figured honesty hour had come at long last.

"I know, I do," she responded quite proudly.

How he loved her so very much.

"Question is, Raymond."

Oh, she knew the way he loved to hear her whisper his name.

"What are you going to do about it?"

He sat dumbfounded for a moment, frozen as he felt her lips brush against the corner of his own. He couldn't help but lean into the burst of sunlight spreading across his face, let his eyes flutter shut so as to capture all that he could.

The buzz of the room, the feel of her lips. He was blessed by her presence near every day now, but having her lips glide for an ephemeral second over his own was something else. Something rare, something special. A gift to be guarded and a moment to always remember.

"Party ended a while ago," she managed to say for the last time, "And going undercover isn't nearly as fun when you're not involved."

All he had when he opened his eyes was the final gust of intoxicating perfume that accompanied the sudden breeze of her absence.

Now, where had she run off to?

He blinked quickly and sighed sadly--he'd take what he could get--before looking down at his glass and moving the straw around as he lifted the glass for another sip.

Well, that surely hadn't been there before.

He reached for her clutch and frowned as he opened it.

Leaving the evidence behind was a rookie mistake; Lizzie was far better than that.

Room 312. I'll be waiting.

A laugh fell from his lips as the clutch snapped shut. Perhaps she was right, maybe the party hadn't begun just yet.

He waved to the bartender, bade adieu to a few friends, suddenly determined unlike ever before to leave the fine establishment. As it turned out, there were better ways to spend the night than by partaking in an operation to clone data. Much better ways, indeed.

#lizzington week #mis cosas #ah shit #i hope someone likes it! :D #i appreciate all feedback by the way!#constructive criticism much appreciated! :)#thanks for reading if you happen to!#and i know lizzington week was officially declared over #but not in my timezone #so i resist #my fics #the blacklist fanfiction

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quarterfromcanon · 4 years

Note

1-4. For the asks

Thank you so much for sending these! <3

Once I started to answer them, I realized there were comparatively few recent television shows appearing on the list. I seemed to keep gravitating toward older ones I remembered from years ago. I took a handful of days to mull it over in case I was forgetting something, but nothing else comes to mind. Maybe my ongoing list of Shows to Watch During Quarantine will turn up some fresh results but, for now, it looks like I’ll be taking a little trip down memory lane. :)

This turned out to be a pretty long and rambly post, so I’ll stow it under the cut!

Top 5 TV Shows

1. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - I can’t imagine this surprises anyone who has been following this blog for the past two years or so. It brought fellow fans into my life, got me back into writing fic, and prompted countless tags of meta. It’s the show my mind drifts to on a weekly basis (if not daily) even a full year after the finale. Just when it seemed I’d reached an age where that level of intense fandom involvement and character attachment might be fading, it proved that quite the opposite was true. I’m very thankful to the series for that, and for the people whose paths have crossed mine as a result.

2. Schitt’s Creek - This is my #1 Feel Good show and, though I’ve been dodging spoilers for the final season until it gets uploaded to Netflix, I get the impression that it will remain in that top spot. The world feels softer and more hopeful there. It’s healing for my soul. I’m going to have a dreadfully difficult time saying goodbye, but I’m glad there are six season to revisit whenever I want.

3. Stranger Things - The theme song alone sends such a rush of excitement through me. I love the aesthetic and the atmosphere. I sometimes have mixed feelings about the romances but the FRIENDSHIPS sure do have a direct line to my heartstrings. I think the way they’ve combined media influences into their own story is really neat. You get something that’s new and engaging, but you can also go back and enjoy the sources of inspiration with fresh appreciation.

4. Joan of Arcadia - I can’t help it. The snark, the jackets, the early 2000s songs, the performances -- the nostalgia for this show is so strong. It’s not without its problems, but it did have some really good things to offer as well. I remember an episode that was one of my earliest introductions to the concept of a trigger, and the effect it could have on a person if exposed to one of theirs. The series dealt a lot with grief and the many forms it can take (I STILL can’t hear Fiona Apple’s cover of “Across the Universe” without getting misty-eyed). I’m also surprised, looking back, at the somewhat positive way I recall them discussing homosexuality on the several occasions that it came up in the show. Not to give too much credit since I don’t think there were recurring canonically LGBTQIA+ characters but, for a kid who spent most days around closed-minded people of a certain religious leaning, it was meaningful along my individual journey. I’d like to provide the several examples that are most vivid in my memory:

A. A girl with short hair, short nails, little to no makeup, and a bulky leather jacket is generally assumed to be a lesbian by the bullies at school. The show directly confronts the fact that “gay” should not be used an insult, that identity should not be assumed without the person telling you so, AND makes sure that the character in question never pushes back by saying harmful things about lesbians despite not actually being one herself.

B. A boy who is questioning is able to confide in his big brother and have a fairly calm conversation about it; the awkwardness mostly comes from neither of them being accustomed to openly discussing emotions, not from the possibility of a negative response regarding the subject matter.

C. Another character is accidentally discovered to be gay (he only appears in the one episode, if my memory serves), and some of the leads have the opportunity to share that for personal gain. However, even though he is a popular jock who is a bit of a jerk in the hallways, the show makes it clear that the right choice is still to leave the telling of that information up to him and him alone.

Like I mentioned, it can’t be said that representation was in abundance here - for instance, I don’t believe anything other than straight or gay was presented as a possibility - but any accepting acknowledgement in a faith-centric series was something for me to hold on to in my still-deeply-closeted days. As a final Very Important personal side note, this show brought Judith Montgomery into my life (pictured below on the left), and that feels like it merits a shoutout for being what I consider a rather significant marker in my awakening.

THE OVERWHELMING CRUSH I HAD - and still have - is one for the books.

5. Pushing Daisies - This is another show with an aesthetic I adore. The series has such a fun, whimsical energy. The crime-solving! The clothes! The cast! There's a lot to love. It’s the kind of world I wish I could visit... well, minus the evidently rampant murder rate.

Top 5 Overrated TV Shows

1. Once Upon A Time - *deep sigh* I tried to stick with it for so long. I think I’ve seen five out of the seven seasons in their entirety. It just felt like everything got mired down by excessive (and increasingly convoluted) subplots, often for the purpose of tossing in as many fairytale and/or Disney characters as possible. Plus, quite honestly, there was too much emphasis on romantic love. For a show whose first season involved a curse being broken by [potential spoiler, I suppose] a mother kissing her son’s forehead, I ultimately found myself up to my ears in romantic ships. It reached such a stifling extent that, if you were not particularly attached to those pairings, there wasn’t a whole lot else to entice further viewing.

2. Under the Dome - I don’t know for certain what the general public opinion of this series was, but it felt like the commercials always featured alleged rave reviews, so I figured I could include it here. I was vaguely interested in Season 1, mainly as a fan of Rachelle Lefevre’s work. Season 2 pulled me in with the introduction of a new townsperson and I threw WAY too much of my heart into that attachment, which backfired when that character was killed. I made quite the spectacle of my heartbreak, so much so that my family doesn’t let me mention this show around them anymore. :P Season 3 was, to phrase it delicately, not a great time. The series did introduce me to a few new-to-me actors, though, so that was cool.

3. Bates Motel - Even the incentive of learning that the two characters I liked most share a lot of screen time later in the series hasn’t been enough to call me back to this one. I don’t know if it was the pacing that put me off or what, but the prospect of finishing the remaining seasons feels so daunting. There are evidently five seasons in total and I believe I’ve only seen two of them thus far. I will probably muddle through it someday just to see how it goes, but the fact that I am so disinclined to prioritize it made this feel like a fair addition to the list.

4. Lost - My interest in this series unfortunately waned right before fervent fandom spiked. I don’t have any specific complaints that come to mind about what I saw; I just sort of drifted and then stayed away. Teachers I liked and peers I spent time with were starting to latch on to the show and I couldn’t find even the slightest inclination to give it a second try. However, did I still dutifully read all the latest installments in my friend’s Sawyer Ford and Kate Austen fanfiction when she passed me handwritten copies at lunch? Sure. I was glad it made her happy, even if I was no longer a viewer.

5. Hemlock Grove - I say this as someone who still mourns the fates of some characters in this show, so I wouldn’t go so far as to claim that the series stopped being able to make me feel anything. I’m just of the opinion that, in some ways, it might’ve been better off stopping at one season. That’s where the book it was based on ends, and things just didn’t feel as cohesive after that. Season 3 especially was - borrowing from my above review of Under the Dome - not a great time. That being said, there are also certain elements from the book that I could’ve done without in the Season 1 adaptation but... well... here we are.

Top 5 Underrated TV Shows

1. Picnic at Hanging Rock - Another one that won’t surprise followers of this blog. I have rhapsodized about it quite frequently since I found it a little over a month ago. It’s a period piece mystery miniseries with LGBTQIA+ representation, gorgeous costumes, and Samara Weaving. This felt specifically designed to wedge its way into my heart, and I’m quite content with the space it now occupies.

2. Dark - I’m so intrigued by the overlapping timelines with all of the morally gray characters. It’s possible to like one of these people in the timeline where they’re young but dislike them as adults, or vice versa. It also makes me think of Rant by Chuck Palahniuk a little tiny bit with the idea that time travel, specifically tampering with your own timeline, might make you physically and behaviorally unrecognizable to yourself. And the SONG CHOICES! I have gotten some solid new music selections from this series.

3. Sense8 - I still need to watch the finale. I really do. But I knew it would make me sad so I’ve avoided it for... two years now? Pretty close, I think. The concept is fascinating and the cast is so strong. Plus the cinematography! They came up with some of the coolest ways to depict the link these characters share and what it’s like when they connect over distance. The planning and careful editing it all must’ve taken... I remain in awe.

4. Penny Dreadful - There were definitely some story/writing choices I didn’t particularly like along the way, but I did get engrossed in the creepy goodness and the performances -- Eva Green’s Vanessa Ives most of all. It left me wishing for more period piece “monster mash” stories, because having all those classic characters in one place was a blast. It also helped me understand why Helen McCrory was once slated to play Bellatrix Lestrange because she can be terrifying. Oh and Sarah Greene in her Wild West outfits? Perdita Weeks with short red hair in fencing garb, and later in all leather with boots and a long jacket? I WAS NOT PREPARED AND I HAVE STILL NOT RECOVERED. I NEVER WILL.

5. Wonderfalls - There’s some cringe-inducing handling of certain representation in the series, but I have such a weak spot for quippy outcasts who become reluctant chosen ones (Joan Girardi in Joan of Arcadia, Wynonna Earp, Jaye Tyler in this series, et cetera). I also really love the sibling dynamics here. They bicker, tease one another, help each other out of trouble, and have rare but genuine heart-to-hearts. Caroline, Lee, and Katie all did such a great job blending their characters’ adult personalities with certain childhood attributes that rise to the surface in the presence of family.

Top 5 Movies

1. Addams Family Values - I’ve rewatched this movie at least once annually since I found it in Media Play at age 13. Usually, I’ll play it around Halloween or, at the latest, Thanksgiving. It’s mouth-along-with-every-line level ingrained in my memory. I find myself leaning forward in my seat before favorite parts because I’m still that excited to relive them. Why this movie, and why this devotion to such a degree? It’s hard to explain, even to myself. I can tell you, however, that I hold up every other portrayal of the Addams characters to the versions found in this. Everybody in the cast just feels that perfect for their part.

2. Clue - I was already pretty fond of this movie to begin with, but then my sister got older and claimed it as a favorite of her own, so now she just supplies me with further excuses to watch it repeatedly. It’s also been a bonding piece of media with a couple of close friends and such through the years. It’s incredible to think not everyone in it was the first choice for their roles; what everybody brings to the table is so top-notch that I wouldn’t have it any other way. I also LOVE knowing that it originally went to theaters with different endings depending on which showing you attended. I gather people weren’t terribly thrilled with the stunt back then, but I kinda think some moviegoers would be into that approach these days? Then again, one hit that tried something different tends to start a fad, so maybe I’d end up regretting the suggestion after a while. :P

3. The Craft - This. Movie. Yes, Act III is a major bummer even though I know it’s coming, and I’ll always wish it ended differently. Even so. This. Movie. I tend to headcanon mostly for shows and sometimes books, but The Craft is a beloved exception. I love so much about it: the magic, the music, the clothes, the settings, the dynamics within the friend group, the performances. I had no idea when I first got the DVD at 17 that it would become such a part of my life, but I’m so glad it found its way to me.

4. Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion - The soundtrack is a glorious ’80s and ’90s treat for my ears. The colorful costumes are perfectly suited to the main characters’ version of the world. There are so many great lines and it feels like everyone is having a lot of fun in their roles. I LOVE HEATHER MOONEY SO MUCH. She’s my awful, scathingly sarcastic, little grungy grump and she fills my heart with joy.

5. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King - I was pretty sure at least one of the three had to appear on here. I think, if I were to tally them all up, The Return of the King features most of my favorite moments, so it wins the spot. “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you!”, ‘Edge of Night,’ Éowyn in battle, The Army of the Dead, ‘Into the West’... I end up crying during the end credits every time. So, yeah, ultimately, I would choose the third part of the trilogy if I could only watch one.

Phew, that’s it! All the questions answered, all the shows and movies listed! Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it all, and thanks again to @monaiargancoconutsoy for sending in the prompts! <3

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