welcome to my mj-centric blog! i'm a transmasc aroace writer and mj fan and i decided there isn't enough mj x m!reader representation out there, so i'm here to provide it. please feel free to leave short story requests or writing suggestions once i get the ball rolling on this blog and i'll try and get them out :)
below is a very loose list of don'ts i have for my writing if you wish to request something specific, so just give it a gander before sending anything my way!
rules of the thumb
• i do not write f!reader fanfic, only m!reader or gn/nb!reader. i'm a queer man so i write queer fics! disclaimer: my fics are entirely fictional interpretations of mj and not any sort of speculation on his sexuality.
• i do not write nsfw fics, only sfw. this isn't necessarily because i'm anti-nsfw, i'm just a fumbly smut writer and can't write it for shit </3 love to read it, hate to write it.
• i do not write fics about nonsexual age regression or nonsexual kink. listen, i bark bark woof woof as much as the next guy, but that sort of thing doesn't have a place in my rpf fics unfortunately. nonsexual age regression is especially a hard limit in my writing.
• i do not write "proship" or "darkship" fics in any form or fashion. this includes but is not limited to: incest, pedophilia, necrophilia, beastiality, noncon, etc. these are my personal hard limits and absolute no's so please don't cut my head off for not wanting to write them.
note: when it comes to things a little heavier like gore or violence, i'm not one to shy away. my full fledged maestro x m!oc fic includes both violence and cannibalism, so trust and believe i'm open to writing about those kinds of things, assuming they serve a purpose and aren't an excuse for gore porn. cannibalism as a metaphor for love and devotion plz call me
i've tagged this post with #adkazposting, which will be used for general posts, and i plan to use other tags in the future to differentiate drabbles, oneshots, full fics, etc. i will also link my ao3 soon!
i can't wait to dive into the mj fanfic writing community and get to know all the awesome writers on here!
okay, okay, stop me if you've heard this one before. a nearly disemboweled clown walks into a medical tent...that's all. enjoy! ❤️
pairing: clown!au!mj x gn!doctor!reader
era: 1984 + au
wc: 1881
tw: graphic violence, medical malpractice, unhealthy obsession, cannibalism, and clowns (of course)
a/n: did a lil' research on clowns n have decided my michael clown in this au is named piero because i'm super creative and original. i would also like to formally apologize to the late michael joseph jackson for stumbling across a photo of him dressed as a clown and turning him into a gut slut. please don't place a curse upon my bloodline mr. jackson thank you amen
-val
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the second you had eyes on piero, you were obsessed.
the word 'obsessed' didn't do your feelings justice, not by a long shot, but tethering that word to your feelings made them feel a little less burdensome. like it was some fleeting schoolyard crush, and not a dangerous fixation eating you alive from the inside out like a parasite.
calling it obsession made it human, made it almost tangible. if you called it what it really was, it'd be animalistic. primal. if it was that, it'd be uncontrollable. if it became uncontrollable, you'd probably do something very, very bad. you'd tear him apart and leave him desirable only to yourself.
at least, that's what you think will happen. you knew better than to let these deep rooted feelings manifest beyond yourself. sure, you were a backdoor surgeon with a suspended license and more than a couple warrants for your arrest, but you weren't some kind of monster who let their emotions go unchecked.
that's what you tell yourself, anyway.
part of you felt thankful for those warrants and that suspension. if you hadn't been caught elbow deep in a patient's abdomen and pulling out their viscera to shove down your own throat, you would've never ended up with piero at the circus.
metamora, indiana's infamous cirque du brise-os had been your shelter from arrest for nearly a year now. you weren't sure who exactly was running the show, the head of operations seemed to change by the week, but you weren't worried about who you had to report to. all you were concerned with was piero and his reliance on you.
you had seen him in all forms of agony and duress. the tricks and stunts he would attempt to perform often led to him taking a bad fall, or landing incorrectly, and ended with him practically maiming himself.
you've relocated joints all across his body, performed hundreds of bone resets and fracture reductions, and even put his eye back in place after it was knocked loose from his head and left bulging from the socket.
you've seen him at his most vulnerable more times than you can count. the shameful hang of his head and the mumble of "i got hurt again" were part of your routine. the frequency of his visits had been on a steady uptick since you began your dodgy medical work for cirque du brise-os, it almost had you wondering if it was on purpose.
wishful thinking, you'd tell yourself. it'd be a real sticky situation if he was getting hurt to see you purposefully.
you'd probably just hurt him yourself so he had no reason to leave the tent.
it was certainly hard to deny the facts, though. monthly visits soon turned weekly, and now you were seeing him every other day. you don't know how he could mangle a leg one day, and then walk on it the next day like nothing had ever happened.
you didn't really care to figure him out, especially if it kept him running back into the big top, nearly killing himself during a stunt, and then limping back to you. anything to keep the routine.
broken bones and joint dislocations were the majority of his ailments when he came by to see you. that's what you were anticipating today, a typical shattered humerus or a bloodied broken foot. you were greeted with neither.
stumbling into the tent was piero, slouching with arms folded over his stomach like ribbon wrapped tight around a christmas present. his head was hung low like usual, but this time, he was wheezing.
he looked up at you, separated across the tent by a stained orthopedic table, his eyes half-shut and fluttery. he tried to clear his throat, but a ragged cough forced its way past his mouth. blood gushed from his mouth and dribbled down his chin.
"i got hurt again."
every nerve in your body started to pop with electric shocks. the muscles in your hands began flexing and twitching, squeezing into tight fists. your eyes were becoming just as fluttery as his were.
you could see blood seeping through his clothes, that stupid polka dot romper, even with his arms shielding his abdomen. putting pressure on an open wound, perhaps? he definitely took something sharp to the stomach to warrant so much blood.
"again? what did i tell you?"
he shrunk into himself further, his eyes darting across the tent's dirt floor.
"you...told me to be more careful. not do all those tricks the other showmen tell me to, 'cause i'll...get hurt. again. 'm really sorry."
he wasn't wrong. you've told him a hundred times to stop trying to perform acts he wasn't capable of doing, but you had also told those other showmen to keep egging him on. piero never stood a chance against a little peer pressure, and you had to make sure he kept coming back to you.
besides, how sick do those guys have to be to actually encourage their fellow entertainer to mutilate their body for the sake of some stupid trick, all because some ex-doctor-turned-medical-pervert told them to?
those guys were total apathetic sadists, every last one of them. it was their fault piero kept getting hurt, and you just so happened to be the only one on the circus's property who could handle it. if anything, you were doing piero a favor by taking care of him. those guys were the sickos.
"doctor?"
your eyes snap to attention when he speaks again. you can feel your pupils dilate and contract in quick succession before settling on being blown wide open. silence hung over the two of you for an uncomfortably long moment.
his arms snake further around his middle, like he was trying to hold something inside.
"can i get on the table, please?"
god, his manners could kill you if you let them. always so sweet.
you didn't reward him with verbal permission, just a vague wave of your hand towards the table. he limped over as fast as he could manage, using one arm to haul himself onto the table and lay himself down.
when his back hit the table, he finally pulled his arms from his stomach. his romper looked like it had been thrown in the laundry with a handful of razor blades, shredded and sticking to his skin.
you wasted no time, taking the tattered fabric in your hands and tearing it further to widen the slashes. the threads of the fabric popped and the obnoxious red pom-poms travelling from his neck to his waistline flew to either side of the table from the sheer force you were using.
once you got a look at piero's damage, the pom-poms were the last thing on earth you could possibly concern yourself with.
you had him unwrapped like a piece of hard candy, exposing him from his collarbones to his pelvis. you could see the goosebumps begin to rise across his neck, but his stomach...
oh god, his stomach.
he was broken wide open. something had torn through him, no, basically disemboweled him. he had been butchered from his ribs to his waistline. you could see everything, absolutely everything.
his organs were caught in a cycle of twitches and spasms as they fought to keep working. you could see the inferior lobes of his lungs peeking from beneath his rib cage, violently pulling air in and pushing more blood out.
his sternum, still miraculously in one piece, was threatening to burst out of him to make more room for his pounding heart. it was beating so audibly and so quickly, like it had been thrown into overdrive.
when you managed to tear your eyes away from the gore and towards his face, he looked absolutely drenched in guilt. his eyes were glossy and his lips were quivering, arms bent and hands curled into fists near his neck. blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and flowed down his cheeks, dripping onto the rusted metal of your table like a leaky faucet.
you had no idea how you were gonna thank those nasty showmen for getting piero to you in this condition, but you planned to worry about that later. all you could concern yourself with was getting your hands on piero as quickly as possible.
and quickly, you did. the sight of his exposed ribs was magnetic and your hands flew to them without a second's hesitation. his lungs pushed against their cage with vigor, like they were trying to force their way out between the rows of bone and touch you too.
you granted their wish, sliding your fingers between his ribs to graze the battered organs. you were gentle, at least for a while, until you swore you felt piero's back push him off the table and up into your hands.
you were leaning further over him with your hands were deep in his thoracic cage before you could stop yourself. only held back by the balls of your thumbs, you plunged your fingers into the spongy tissue. he wheezed beneath the sudden pressure, more blood spraying from his mouth and splattering across your face.
he looked nothing short of positively horrified at the sight of your face all drenched in ruby red, but you could hardly be worried about your state of being.
when you had knocked the wind out of him and sent him into a blood-spitting fit, there was something rearing its head in between his raspy pants and wheezes. something...whiny. if you dared to believe it, possibly even needy.
you couldn't see if he was flushed beneath his white facepaint, but you sure as hell felt it. the heat pouring out from his open torso only seemed to intensify the deeper you dove into him.
somewhere deep within yourself, something was begging you to stop. you're going to the point of no return, it said. you're scaring him, look at how terrified he is.
that little voice wasn't wrong. piero looked like he was ready to burst into tears, plead for mercy, beg for you to stop hurting him. he looked so pathetic on the table, writhing and squirming like a maggot under your hands.
it felt like there was some force looming behind your shoulder, gripping it tight and telling you to lay off before you did real damage, irreparable damage.
stop while you still can.
the idea of having piero wandering the circus grounds with your mark inside of him was too great a temptation to resist. whatever force of good that was trying to hold you back had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
a void-like pit spread wide inside your chest, gaping and starving. it trailed across your body and rooted itself deep into the marrow of your bones like a disease.
it dragged your hands down piero's sternum and over his exposed abdomen. his insides glistened wetly beneath you, your eyes transfixed on the curves of his intestines and twitches of the organs nestled nearby.
your eyes met piero's as your fingers wormed their way deep into the viscera, rewarding you with a strangled grunt. his face was drenched with a somehow innocent desperation.
"i'll make you feel better," you whispered. "i'll make everything better."
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formal apology for how short this ended up being, i knew i had to finish it off sooner rather than later or else i'd keep going for the rest of my life. i haven't written anything this spooky or graphic in a hot minute, so hopefully y'all enjoyed my freak ass oneshot 🫶🫶
in other news my freakilicious twin @moonshadowsx and i have been bouncing ideas off each other and have been absolutely obsessed with mature era lesbian fem!mj, so if the masses wish for some of that plz sound off down below >:3c
aiming to get my maestro oneshot out around mid-june and pt 2 of the captain eo fic out by the end of the month, so keep your peepers peeled for that. for now, hope y'all enjoyed my spooky mj oneshot!
hello all! i'm just here to give a quick update on fic progress, plans regarding my posting schedule, and future updates! just a lil housecleaning before the month is up
first and foremost, thank you guys so very much for all the love and support on my writing! i know i don't have too much posted at the moment, but the kind words have meant the world to me. i haven't been this motivated or passionate about writing in a long time, so i'm thankful to be able to rekindle that passion and give people something fun to read.
second, it looks like spinal tapper won the poll for the fic y'all want to see next! it still has a little time left on it, but i'm gonna go ahead and assume it'll win. i'm aiming to have it out to y'all before sunday, but we'll have to see how things look in terms of free time. i'm out of state visiting friends, so my only open writing time is the evening and i'm the champion of going to bed early. i'll keep y'all updated if it has to get pushed back a day or two!
third, i want to keep a writing schedule to make sure i have a consistent stream of content to share and to also keep my creativity flowing. i'm on track to be working two jobs, so i'm aiming for one fic every two weeks. be sure to share what kinda stuff you feel the mj rpf community is missing out on!
fourth and finally, i plan on making these little update blurbs on a monthly basis to keep everyone up to date on the plans i have for the month. june likely won't have one since i'm making this one so close to the end of may, but july will be our official monthly update kick off.
in the meantime, keep your peepers peeled for "spinal tapper" this saturday, as well as "soul, standing by" and part two of "all times of rain" in june! dates for those two are tbd*
*t - whenever
b - my lazy ass
d - decides to post them
thank y'all for taking the time to read my little update, i'm excited to get more yummy mj content out to y'all soon! ❤️
captain eo nation rise up!! captain eo x repairperson/engineer gn!reader for the masses that required more space and welding research than i had bargained for. enjoy! 🧡
pairing: captain eo x gn!repairperson!reader
era: captain eo (1986)
wc: 2039
pt: 1 of [?]
tw: space war i guess?? laser goes pew pew and spaceship goes boom boom
-val
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"you think it'll be much longer?"
"captain, i've only been at this for a few hours. you gotta give me a little more time."
a worried sigh and more relentless pacing was all you got in reply, but you weren't able to turn and see if your captain, eo, had paired it with a cross of his arms.
"y'know, we wouldn't even be down on this planet if you hadn't decided to cut through the middle of a battlefield," you spoke in between the sparks of your stick welder, trying your best to reattach pieces of the ship that had been shredded from laser fire.
that battlefield he had decided to tear straight through only half a day ago in the name of a "secret shortcut only the very most experienced captains knew about" was an ugly one.
the inky blackness of space had become littered with clusters of orange bursts of flames from exploding spacecrafts and the zip of lasers passing over, below, and through eo's spaceship.
by the time the ship had made it out to the other side and was set on a collision course towards a jagged green planet just beyond the carnage, the battle behind you had left only battered battle fleets in its wake.
eo didn't take too much time trying to defend himself to you or his crew about his haphazard decision. you knew he was a little too stubborn for that, especially when he shouted, "there's nothin' to worry about. we made it out, didn't we?" but you could tell he was starting to become more than a little anxious.
you two weren't exactly the types to have long, deep conversations about your darkest vices and insecurities in between your missions together, but eo wasn't exactly the hardest person to read.
he cared about his crew, but he also cared about seeing his missions through by any means necessary. every so often, the importance of the latter seemed to outweigh the former. when it did, everyone had to pay the price.
it wasn't the first time he threw himself, and by extension, you and the crew, into danger for the sake of a mission. you had been caught in plenty of fire fights, infiltrated countless intergalactic kingdoms, and even warded off a gang of space pirates ransacking the ship. this time, you were shocked any of you were alive.
now, you were here; sat outside the ship, kneeling in the sticky mud of a foreign planet and sweating bullets beneath your welding helmet, fighting to get the damage caused by the battle fixed and get the ship even semi-functional.
the rest of eo's crew kept themselves busy inside, trying their best to get the internal controls back online. eo wasn't much help in that regard, so they (very politely) ushered him outside to assist you. his "assisting," however, seemed to be restless pacing and pestering. you could see why his crew decided to make him your responsibility, lest he wreak more havoc on the already fragile internal controls deck.
"it was the quickest way to cut across the hubble deep field! we were outta options and needed to land quick, so i made a choice."
you paused for a moment, releasing the trigger on your stick welder and letting the crackle of electric sparks fizzle out. you stared deep into the cavernous crater you had been puzzle piecing back together for the better part of 3 hours.
"out of options?" you muttered, your tone absolutely drenched in disbelief at what the captain had said. you could feel your face beginning to burn hot with annoyance beneath your helmet, but kept your back to him and your face towards the damage.
"i'm not gonna get into a yelling match with you, captain, because i know you mean well. i know you well enough to say that."
you adjusted your grip on the handle of your welder, squeezing the trigger and reigniting the electrode.
"but if you ever put me or the crew in danger like that again, i'll get you discharged."
the sparks kicked up in full swing, and neither of you said a word to each other until the ship was operational again. if the crew had noticed, they didn't say a thing.
well, except hooter. you knew he'd check in on you sooner or later.
the ship had been cruising through star clusters and skirting between nebulae for a few days before eo finally conceded to the war of silence waging between the two of you.
it wasn't a dramatic confrontation like you had expected from him. no kicking the door to your quarters down, no shouting and finger pointing or "i'm the captain and what i say goes." it was much quieter than you had expected from him.
he gave you the courtesy of a warning knock before slowly pushing open the door to your room, a pair of brown eyes and a mop of black curls emerging from behind it.
you were sat on your bed, reviewing the repair notes you had put together after the crash landing a few days back. papers were stacked and spread across the bed, the side table, the floor, anywhere that had space.
the documents were plentiful, and you knew your boss, commander bog, was going to want these when you got back to the cosmodrome the ship had left from. he was sure to be up to his neck in reports by the time the ship would return.
eo nudged the door open a little further, stepping halfway into the room and pulling you from your daze of documents, dates, and damage details. his eyes darted around your quarters, gloved hands fidgeting with each other.
"can i come in? just to talk for a little bit."
he didn't wait too long for an answer, entering the room fully and shutting the door behind him. he stood there, hands still fumbling with each other, and kept his back practically against the door.
you hadn't ever seen him so visibly anxious before. he had a hard time keeping his eyes straight ahead, and his posture was tight. he looked like a child psyching himself up to tell his parents he had accidentally broke something.
the lights in the room were low, but you could still catch the redness that had settled on his cheeks and bridged across his nose.
"i just, ah-" he had started, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"i just wanted to, y'know...apologize. for the crash, and putting you all in danger the other day."
part of you knew he was here to give you something like an apology. that same part knew it was going to be short and sweet, and you were disappointed to find yourself proven right.
you readjust yourself on your bed, turning your body towards him with a tilted head and narrowed eyes.
"you're saying all this because i told you i'd get you discharged, aren't you?"
his eyes finally snapped forward and locked onto yours, his eyebrows furrowing worriedly. his mouth could only produce what sounded like half-choking and half-scoffing stutters.
"i'm right, aren't i? if i hadn't told you i'd get you discharged, you wouldn't be here,"
you felt an agitated smile of disbelief start to form on your face.
"you're only sorry because the ddsa board would take your piloting license and send you packing to some rotten wasteland of a burner planet for causing them so much trouble all these years."
okay, that last part wasn't necessarily the typical course of action for the board of the department of deep space activity. in truth, eo would likely be sent to work on the ground for the ddsa considering his plethora of galactic knowledge, but he had no way of knowing.
eo was only half the enigma he made himself out to be to the rest of the galaxy, at least compared to your knowledge of him. commander bog had done you a great service by forwarding you eo's digital profile from the ddsa's pilot directory.
the profile gave you more insight into eo than he had ever given you willingly. it brought up his abnormally quick ascent in the galactic aviation academy on his home planet, his quick shipment across the trappist-1 star system to your own home planet, and his years of activity as a space pilot.
he climbed the ranks of the ddsa's piloting program faster than anyone in the department's history and was sent off to explore the cosmos just as quickly. until now, the punishments for his recklessness had been a scolding and a slap on the wrist. the possibility of discharge from the piloting program had never been in the same room as eo, let alone on the table.
the chance of being dumped on some abandoned dwarf planet drifting near the edge of the universe? that wasn't even within a 5-mile radius of eo. until now, at least, as far as he was aware.
to say your words made him tense would be the cosmos's greatest understatement. he looked as rigid as a corpse, like every fiber in his body was pulled taut, and the sheepish red glow that was once branded across his face drained into pale shock. he looked downright sick.
nevertheless, he gritted his teeth and spoke.
"i'm not apologizing to get outta trouble. i've already gotten hell from the ddsa. i'm apologizing because i am sorry, not because anyone makes me feel like i gotta be."
you kept your face as stone cold as you could manage, but you could feel your mind stirring up a storm of swears and confusion.
already gotten hell from the ddsa? you only ever knew them to give him a verbal warning, nothing to warrant him looking so...defeated. that was the only way you could describe it. defeated and defensive, like they had given him the scolding of a lifetime. maybe they did threaten to ship him off to the edge of space.
you knew him to be a little too prideful to offer an apology like this and not mean it. you were used to his "i'm sorry for being right," apologies, nothing where he put his ego to the side and actually admitted to doing anything wrong.
you felt your hard expression begin to crack. something about him looking so beaten down, so desperate for some kind of forgiveness, anything. it really made you wonder what the department had said to him to break him down this badly.
eventually, you broke. you sighed, frowning back at eo.
"i'm not gonna get you discharged. not that the board would take your license anyway, you're the only competent pilot they have left that hasn't been taken prisoner by space pirates or blown to pieces by a stray comet."
eo huffed in what you assume is relief, some of the tension rolling off of his shoulders. the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, just enough to begin forming his dimples.
"and i appreciate you apologizing to me. i hope you gave your crew the same courtesy."
he nodded quickly, his small smile breaking into a wide, toothy grin. color quickly flooded back into his face, painting his skin a warm brown once again.
"i did, i promise. they told me they appreciated it too."
as his voice began to come back its normal peppy chirp, your face mirrored his with a smile. you watched his twitchy hands detach from each other and fold gently over his middle, and his anxious side-to-side rocking become an excited lift-and-drop on his toes.
"so, now that we've been up and moving for a few days, what's next on the agenda, captain?"
he crossed his arms over his chest, letting himself fall back against your quarter's door.
"y'know the supreme empress we defeated a few months back? with the big dungeon and the scary guardsmen?"
you narrowed your eyes slightly in question, still not losing your smile.
"yeah, 'course i do. hard to forget you almost getting sentenced to torture for a hundred years. why?"
eo looked almost giddy now.
"she's got a brother, twice as nasty, and we're on our way to see him."
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this became WAYY more lore heavy and world build-y than i had anticipated, but i just kept going and going and never wanted to stop. remember kids: if you crash too many space ships, the department of deep space activity Will get you send you to the moon because earth jail just aint enough.
i hope you guys love reckless abandon captain eo as much as i do, he's my angel <33 hoping to get a solid storyline up n going for this series soon!!
a little maestro x gn!reader for the masses as my first official oneshot on tumblr! i've intertwined some of my own personal headcanons for maestro's appearance, family, and home with this oneshot so i hope you all love my maestro as much as i do. enjoy!
pairing: maestro x gn!reader
era: ghosts (1996)
wc: 1575
tw: none
disclaimer: i haven't written a proper oneshot in years so be kind to this weary soul
-val
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if there was one thing you could do without when it came to visiting maestro, it was the barrage of thunderstorms that seemed to circle his home all hours of the night.
during the day, his mansion on the hillside just outside of normal valley was basked in warm, unfiltered sunlight. it shone through every towering window and bled across the walls, stretching itself across endless hallways and slipping under doors. it was like the sun had a mind of its own and just had to sneak its way into every crevice of the house. when nighttime came and the moon began rearing its head, it was an entirely different story.
as soon as the sun slipped below the horizon, a flurry of thick clouds, rain, thunder, and lightning draped itself over the property almost immediately. if his home didn't already resemble a haunted house during the daytime, it sure did at night. just like the incessant rain, whenever nighttime rolled around, so did maestro's pranks.
when you had visited* (*broken and entered on the grounds of a childish dare) his mansion for the first time a number of months ago on halloween night, you had gotten your first taste of his playful personality. he had a great deal of fun dashing across the halls in between flashes of lightning, blowing out torches hung securely on the walls whenever you made your way into rooms, and tapping you on the shoulder only to slip away in the dark by the time you turned to see who was there.
you were becoming increasingly terrified as the minutes went by, him slipping past you on all sides and leaving a terribly cold breeze in his wake. the endless rumbling of footsteps beneath claps of thunder were circling you like vultures, closing in further and further.
you had whipped your head around from side to side so quick you swore you were going to give yourself whiplash, but the neck pain you were to be saddled with for the next day had been rewarded. you finally had eyes on whoever had decided to taunt you with quick dashes between doorways and jabs to the shoulder.
the "whoever" was blanketed from head to toe in an inky black robe, the dark and shapeless figure only offset by a stark white mask molded into the shape of a skull. knowing the creepy face tucked beneath the black hood was only a halloween mask didn't quell any of your anxiety, however. now, you were becoming increasingly worried about who was hiding behind it.
luckily, or potentially unluckily, the hooded figure didn't give you much time to pore over it before slipping the mask from his face and pressing it to his chest.
"did i scare you?"
those were the first words he had said to you. no threats of calling the police, no shoving out the front door. just a question and an expectant look. all you could offer was a look of disbelief and a breathless "huh?"
he seemed to get a kick out of your confusion. a smile broke across his face as he tossed his mask to the floor, his draping robe following quickly behind it.
once your eyes adjusted to him in the dark, you were caught off guard less by being caught by the mask-wearing homeowner of the mansion you were invading, and more by his choice of house clothes.
an airy white shirt, equipped with ruffles on the neck and wrists, tucked neatly into a pair of black velvet pants. the pants flared at the bottom, adorned with embroidery and small, black jewels. he wore black shoes that came to a point at the toe and rested on top of a small heel.
you were sure he noticed you looking him from head to toe, but it didn't seem like he took it as you sizing him up for an altercation. instead, he kept smiling and crossed his arms over his chest.
his smile had a slight warp to it, the skin near the right corner of his mouth yielding to the scar that tore across his face from his mouth, over the bridge of his nose and through his left eye, and then onto his forehead. his scarred eye was a blur of half-lidded white, but his right eye was round and dark. his hair poured from his head in solid black waves past his shoulders and his skin was a watercolor mix of pale tan and deep brown.
eventually, he broke the silence as you scanned over his features.
"so..." he tilted his head down slightly, still grinning wide. "did i?"
you finally came back down to earth and out of your trance when he spoke. he was giving you another expectant look.
"huh?" you had asked, your mind jumping back and forth with questions and curiosity about him, his home, why on earth he was dressed like he was preparing to wax poetic onstage with william shakespeare, and a barrage of other things barreling down the tracks of your mind.
he didn't seem the slightest bit bothered when you gave him another non-answer, laughing at your reply and the confusion on your face.
"i said, did i scare you?"
you gave him a rather defensive "of course not," and from that day forward, he made it his own personal mission to get a "yes" to that question from you. so far, that day had yet to come. you couldn't inflate his ego by telling him what he wanted to hear.
now, months after that encounter, the attempts to get a good scare out you hadn't stopped, but they were becoming more infrequent since winter was in full swing and your visits to maestro were dependent on the condition of the roads from your own home on the other edge of normal valley.
instead, he kept close to your side, making sure every moment he had with you for the winter months was spent attached to your hip.
those dwindling scare attempts led you to where you were now, draped across an antique couch and flipping through a century old poetry book. maestro sat with you, settling himself on the far end with your legs laid over his lap.
he used your legs as a makeshift desk, circling and underlining and scribbling annotations in the pages of his own book. it looked like some kind of old fantasy novel, and he was completely drawn in.
the thunderstorm raging outside was infinitely louder in maestro's library. when his family had the home built years ago, they had to accommodate his large family first and worry about the leisure rooms second. the rooms on the lower floors were filled with aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, and more, leaving only the turret that projected off the right side of the third floor.
it had originally been a quiet space away from the bustle of the rest of the home, but when his family had passed, it hadn't seen a living soul in it for years. now, after being left unused for ages, it was a hideaway for you and maestro. granted, it certainly wasn't the quiet and peaceful space he made it out to be by the time nightfall came around.
despite the thunder rumbling the space and lightning flashing through the tall windows lining the rounded walls, you had to admit it did have an air of serenity to it. when you were there with him, it felt like nothing existed beyond the walls surrounding you. it was just you, him, and the books.
you kept sneaking looks at him over the top of your book, watching his face twitch as he fell deeper and deeper into his pages. sometimes the corner of his mouth would turn up, other times his eyebrows would knit together. you knew better than to ask what parts had him smiling or annoyed, that was a one way ticket to a rambling fit that would take more than a few minutes to cut off.
so, you let him do his reading and smiling and frowning and annotating without interruption. it continued like that for hours, all the way up until the storm clouds dispersed and the morning sun began stretching above the horizon and back into the windows.
it crept across the room like it always did, pulling itself closer and closer until it blanketed you and the warm glow reminded you both how long you had been awake for.
by the time the sun was settled high in the sky and glittered the snow surrounding the mansion's propety, the relentless weight of exhaustion had hauled you both into a dead sleep until the first crack of evening thunder startled you awake. like the previous night and every night before, rain began pouring heavy from the sky.
sure, the rain was troublesome. it turned the grounds of the garden out front into a slippery pool of mud by daytime, and occasionally flooded the underground catacombs of the mansion, and was a general nuisance to deal with, but it kept you in the mansion, kept you there with maestro a little longer.
it was an excuse to spend another night, another moment there with him. it was a pain to drive through when your day off work came to an end and it was time to go back home to your waiting responsibilities, but it was always your favorite excuse to stay.
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first tumblr oneshot complete! i won't even lie, this was half-looked over and i had the world's worst time figuring out how to end it, so you're not allowed to be mean to me if this was total shit from a butt.
it had no real direction, if i'm honest. very much a stream of consciousness fic to get the ol' writer cogs turning again after a long period of starting extremely long and detailed fics and then abandoning them. i haven't written anything with an actual ending and final sentence in a very long time so please be kind to this weary writer.
despite the lack of real direction and my haphazard proofreading, i hope you enjoyed it regardless <3 thank you for reading!
