#//i love him and his weird little habits!! this could have been longer but oh well lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

refrigeratorwrites · 5 months

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⊹ ࣪ ˖୧ ‧₊˚ ACE'S MAJOR: LOVING YOU

PORTGAS D. ACE x FEM!READER

SYNOPSIS: in which your loving boyfriend is hopelessly distracted when it comes to studying with you.

CONTENT: 1k words, fluff, established relationship, college! au, y/n is a stem major, written with gender neutral reader in mind (but has like, one use of the word, 'girl'), also features lil bro luffy :p

between pastel highlighters and scribbled sentences, ace is enamored by you. perhaps inviting your silly boyfriend (who only attends lecture after he fails the midterm) to a study date was a bad idea. but who could resist when he juts his bottom lip out at you after you tell him you couldn’t hang out with him because finals were coming up? finals be damned. no one is keeping him from his lover.

“babe, i can’t focus.” except, his own brother maybe.

“ace, we’ve only been here for 30 minutes,” you sigh, setting down your pen to look up at his eyes, which are oddly narrowed by something behind you. “and you haven’t even opened your laptop yet.”

“i can’t help it! luffy’s been making weird faces at me since we walked in,” he grumbles. his eyebrows furrow in frustration. cute, you note. “it’s like he forgets i’m his ride home.”

your heart warms at the thought of the two brothers. despite his incessant complaints about luffy, you don’t fail to catch the softness in his glares and gentleness in his tone when he tells you about the younger boy’s habits.

“weren’t you the one who suggested coming here?”

“‘cuz he wouldn’t stop going on about the tangerine pastries here,” he explains. “plus, he promised to get us some after his shift.”

you hum in response and his frown deepens.

“babe?” another hum. ace fiddles anxiously with the cat pen from your pencil pouch. he remembers picking it out for you at the bookstore you both went to the other week. reminds me of you, you said, clicking the ginger tail down to test the ink flow. now, i can always keep you with me. his heart swells a little harder recalling your words.

“please, baby, if you don’t pay attention to me for longer than ten seconds, i might start crying.”

“ace, i love you.” you start, looking up briefly to catch his intent gaze directed at you now. “but if i keep rereading the same sentence again, i might start crying."

“but… i miss you…” your boyfriend whines, reaching towards your unoccupied hand. “and i think data structures have seen you more times this week than i have.”

your fingers interlock and you finally lift your head from your textbook to give him your attention.

“there’s my pretty girl.” the dark-haired man grins cheekily.

“babe, i really hate being a stem major.”

your frustration is evident when your eye almost twitches in annoyance at the smug look on his face. you begin analyzing your sweet boyfriend’s features further. well, maybe you couldn’t pretend to ignore him for much longer. just the sight of the soft curls framing his face and littered freckles eased the stress lines forming on your forehead.

“no worries, sweets,” he rubs your hand. “luckily for us, i’m already graduated with the most important major of all time.”

“oh, yeah?” you knew for a fact that this man has not yet graduated. but it was decided that there was no harm in humoring him a little. “and what would that be?”

“a major in loving you, of course.”

“hm. with a minor in lame flirting?” you resist the urge to smile.

“only for you!” he beams. “let’s go visit the cat cafe across the street.”

the saccharine voice of your lover is enough to make you reconsider the rest of your day, but you can’t seem to let him win yet. as you’re about to reply however, a figure makes their way to your table.

“y/n, here’s your order!” luffy exclaims, deeply inhaling the buttery pastry before he sets down your plate. “hope my brother isn’t annoying you too much.”

“luffy! i should be saying that about you.” the two start bickering in front of you. sighing, you continue copying down some more notes as you quietly listen in on their conversation.

“ewww i thought you guys were studying. why are you holding hands?” you chuckle at the younger boy’s questioning.

“thanks for the food, luffy,” you smile at the boy. he gives you a wide grin in response. “you can have it though, ace and i were just about to head out.”

“oooo don’t mind if i do.” he happily takes back the pastry into his hand. “you’re the best! ace, forget your homework, you should really start taking notes here.”

“you wanna go?” ace chooses to ignore him with an eye roll, sending you a lifted brow. you figure one day couldn’t hurt. not when your clingy oaf of a boyfriend was itching at the thought of spending more time with you, lecture recordings could wait.

“i would never turn down the opportunity to see my cute boyfriend with some even cuter kitties.”

“aw, you think i’m cute?”

“guys…” you almost forgot about luffy still standing there. “i wanna go too…”

“what? you’re still working!” his brother counters.

“i can trade shifts with usopp, i’ll be off soon!” another giggle escapes your throat at his persistence. “please wait for me!”

“we’ll wait for you, luffy.” the boy across from you widens his eyes in betrayal. despite his countless refusals, he’ll always have a soft spot for his brother and you can’t resist his charms either.

“sweet! thanks, y/n!” he scurries off before ace can protest any further.

“we’ll go if luffy can come with?” you send your boyfriend a sly smile, giving his hand a soft squeeze. a fond smile creeps on his tan skin.

“as you wish, my love.”

and yes, maybe ace will forever be distracted by your beauty as you condemn his lame flirting attempts. even then, however, you’ll always be there to return his loving stare in stolen glances.

(you should really stop going on study dates together.)

NOTE: welcome to my first lil blurb! this is my first attempt at fan fic so pls go easy on me… had to write about ace bc THATS MY BOY

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x y/n #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace fluff #ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x you

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puranami · 5 months

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✿ Omelette - The Morning After ✿

A/N: I did leave the original with a point to start a follow up if the mood struck, and people have been showing interest, so here we are... doing our best __φ(．．✿)

Summary: The morning after Sanji found you cooking an omelette in your underwear at an ungodly hour, you are no longer overtired and must deal with the fallout.

Content: Despite the scenario - it's all SFW and fluffy like dem eggs were. Even more pining with a nice side dish of denial, G/N reader ✿

(Part 1) - (Part 3)

"Oh my god..."

You cringe into your pillow, unsure of how you are supposed to face the day, and especially Sanji, after last night's omelette fuelled shenanigans. The entire thing had felt like a dream, and you would have gone on with the rest of your life believing that's what it was were it not for one glaring issue.

Sanji's nightshirt.

It was still comfortably wrapped around you, still with that sweet and musky scent that had enveloped you as you finally managed to sleep, and you couldn't help nuzzling into the sleeves with a contented sigh.

"No! Stop that!" you shouted internally, forcing yourself up in your hammock. "You do not have feelings for him, he does not have feelings for you; he was just being a good friend lending you his shirt because you were a dumbass who forgot to put on pants!"

You felt your chest tighten somewhat at your inner monologue. Maybe you did have a tiny bit of a crush, truly miniscule really, nothing to get yourself worked up about. You let out another small sigh, starting to fiddle with the top button, knowing you had to take it off and return it.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to.

Surely it'd be okay to hang onto it a little longer, right? It would be bad manners to hand back a dirty shirt, so you should definitely wash it first at the very least. And since you aren't due to do your laundry for a couple more days; maybe you can wear it at night in the meantime?

You let out an audible groan, flopping back down onto your pillow face first, hardly able to believe your own thoughts.

"Why am I being so weird about this?" The cycle of cringing into your pillow begins again.

A sudden knock at your door surprises you, and you nearly fall out of your hammock. The door opens a crack, not enough to see in or out of, and a familiar voice greets you.

"Just wanted to check in, darling, you're missing breakfast, and if you don't get there soon," Sanji trails off, not needing to elaborate on the eating habits of your captain. He gives you a moment to respond, but you can't find any of your words; you needed more time to overthink about how you were going to talk to him! You pull your blanket up over your head in a poor attempt to hide from the situation.

Thinking you were still asleep, and knowing that you were properly covered thanks to his actions during the night, he opens the door further and peeks his head in.

"Darling?"

He lets out a little laugh seeing your blanket covered form still in your hammock. Letting himself into the room fully he makes his way over to your little sanctuary, unaware of the utter panic contained within, before crouching down beside you. A gentle hand rocks you ever so slightly in an attempt to rouse you from your assumed slumber.

"It's time to wake up, love," he almost whispers.

You instinctively groan at the pet name, mentally cursing yourself for it immediately after - you can't pretend to be asleep anymore now. Resigning yourself to your fate, you slowly pull the blanket down a little, at least enough to look at him.

"Good morning, sunshine!" He beams, always happy for any time in your presence. "You're going to miss breakfast."

God damn this radiance in human form. You take a stabilising breath before reluctantly sitting up, allowing your blanket to fall down to your waist. Sanji couldn't help the cheeky little smirk that graced his face upon seeing his nightshirt; you could have easily taken it off once you got back to your quarters, but here it still was.

"What's the face for?" You grumble, poking his forehead and lightly pushing him back. Sanji giggled as he lost his balance, deciding it best to sit beside you instead of crouching. He leaned his arms on the side of the hammock and looked up at your pouting face, smiling at how cute you were.

"Comfy, sweet?" The amusement in his voice was painfully apparent as he gave the collar of the shirt a playful tug.

Burying your face into sleeve covered hands to hide the blush you felt forming, you let out an exasperated sigh, falling onto your back while muttering various curses, causing Sanji to let out a hearty laugh. As much as he was enjoying how flustered you were, he was cautious about pushing things too far; he wanted to win your affections, and too much teasing may undermine that for him. He gently pats the top of your head, making you jump slightly from the unexpected touch.

"You know, if you want to keep a hold of it, I wouldn't mind." You pull your hands down to look at him, eyes wide while still covering the lower half of your face. It was like he could see right through you, like he had heard your earlier thoughts about keeping it, at least for a couple more nights. What witchcraft was this!

"W-what? No! I..." you finally manage to blurt out, sitting up once more. Time to attempt some damage control and deny everything! "I appreciate that you were just helping me out, a-and I was gonna wash it before giving it back!" Sanji had taken to leaning on one of his hands, a lazy smile on his face, endlessly amused by this whole thing. He's never actually seen you in this state before - you're usually so composed.

"It's alright, love, I have other shirts," he shrugs. Throughout this entire exchange, you hadn't reacted to any of his terms of endearment like you usually do.

Maybe it was time to try his luck.

"You wear it much better than I do, anyway." Sanji flashes you a flirty wink, and you feel your resolve starting to crumble. In a last ditch attempt to salvage your carefully crafted aloof image you throw your blanket over him.

"Stop looking at me with your dumb face!"

The man is unfazed.

Giggling like an idiot he flips the blanket back over the hammock, keeping his hands up afterwards in surrender.

"Alright, alright, I yield." He lifts himself off of the floor, patting down the back of his suit trousers. "Breakfast has probably been demolished by now, so when you're ready, come to the kitchen, and I'll make something special for you." He graces you with one last signature golden smile, before heading out, pausing at your door momentarily.

"How does an omelette sound, love?" He can't help snickering, and your face flushes deep red.

"Out!!" You yell as you throw your pillow at him, which he easily bats away while laughing. Once he was gone and the door was shut you cursed; it felt like your heart was trying to escape the confines of your body, and the intensity was overwhelming.

You refused to admit it, but you were down bad for this beautiful menace.

To be continued? Oh no! Welp, looks like the oneshot I initially started with has turned into a little series :3c I really enjoy writing Sanji, can you tell?

#one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sanji x reader #sanji x you

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newtthetranswriter · 8 months

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One Way to say I love You

Summary: Toge has a weird habit and won’t tell you what it means.

Word count: 797

A/N: Just a little thing I wrote to help with my writer's block. Big thanks to @just-jordie-things for letting me use her idea for this piece. I hope you enjoy and have a good day. MDNI with any of my work even if it’s sfw.

Dating Toge has been amazing. You might think that his limited vocabulary makes it difficult to communicate but it doesn't. We've come up with our own type of communication. It's a mix of sign language and our own jesters that no one else understands. Though there is one thing he recently started doing that I can't get him to explain.

At the most random times he sticks his tongue out at me. It's adorable but I don't understand why. He refuses to tell me as well no matter how many times I ask him about it. He'll just shrug, and walk away. If we're in class he'll tap my shoulder and when I look at him he will unzip his collar, and just stick his tongue out at me.

The weirdest time was we had just finished a small mission we had been sent on. We were both slightly bruised because the curse was stronger than expected and we were waiting for our ride to pick us up. He nudged my shoulder and when I looked at him he was just sticking his tongue out like it was the most normal thing in the world.

As I opened my mouth to ask again why he kept doing that, a car pulled up and the driver ushered us in. Breaking my train of thought. Toge just smiled at me, zipped his collar and climbed into the car. I sighed climbing in as well, thinking about how I can figure out the meaning behind the seemingly random jester.

A few weeks have gone by since Toge started sticking his tongue out randomly and it's driving me crazy. I can't figure it out and now our friends have picked up on it as well. I'm now more determined than ever to figure out why he's doing it.

With today being one of the few days we got off from training and studying I figured I could probably corner him, and make him tell me. After we had breakfast with our friends, we ended up going to his room to relax. When we got to his room he immediately took off his jacket and collar leaving him in just a T-shirt. His adorable markings on full display. Sensing my gaze he looked me dead in the eyes and stuck his tongue out for just a second before laying down on his bed.

I rolled my eyes, before asking a question that seems almost futile at this point. "Why do you always do that?"

Toge just smiled at me, said "bonito flakes" meaning he's not going to tell me and then made grabby hands at me. Motioning for me to lay down with him.

So here we are about thirty minutes later. I was leaning against the head of the bed with his head in my lap. I was just running my fingers through his soft hair. He was so relaxed, slow breathing and his eyes closed so I figured he was sleeping.

Lost in the thoughts of how much I love this little dork. I realized I wouldn't want to be in this position with anyone else. Without thinking too much about it I let the words slip out. "I love you, Toge." It was quiet so I didn't think he would hear me. But when I looked into my favorite pair of violet eyes I knew he heard me.

I stumbled over my thoughts trying to think of a good lie to cover it up, not wanting to scare him away. But then I realized he had sat up and had once again stuck his tongue out at me. I was no longer embarrassed but completely confused as to why?

"Toge, why are you sticking your tongue out at me, I just said I love you, and you stick your..... oh." It finally struck what he meant when he would do that. I blushed as I pieced it together. "Wait have you been saying... this whole time?" I asked, trying to confirm my suspicion.

He nodded with a bright smile and a quiet whisper of 'yeah'. It was rare for him to stray from his rice ball ingredients but when he did it made me so happy. And in this moment it proved he was telling the truth, as he doesn't do that around anyone else. Not even Yuta one of our closest friends.

I returned the smile before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on each cursed seal on his cheeks before giving him a peck on the lips. He smiled and returned the kiss.

When we separated, we both moved to be laying down silently agreeing that it was time for a nap. We cuddled up to each other and quickly drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu toge #toge inumaki #inumaki toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader

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madameaug · 6 months

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Please don’t tell me jungkook or oc cheats because they just had a baby 🥲

Jungkook would never! If anything Jennette giving birth to little Peanut only enhanced is love for her.

Jungkook During the 40 Weeks of Pregnancy

Finding Out

Jennette didn't experience the typical signs of pregnancy. No morning sickness, no excessive weight gain, no mood swings. Nothing like that at all. She was perfectly fine. She was taking down the silver and gold Christmas-themed tree in February. Still in her festive onesie, Jungkook noticed something quite odd. An open jar of smooth peanut butter.

"You bought peanut butter?"

Taking a big lick from the spoon, Jennette nodded her head.

"Babe you can't stand peanut butter. You literally gag at the smell. Now your eating it straight of the jar."

"I don't know why, but I've been craving it. The smell isn't bothering me right now."

"Are you sick?" Jungkook placed the back of his head on Jennette's forehead.

"I'm fine."

Jungkook found that moment weird, but didn't harp on it. Maybe she was giving peanut butter another chance. Surely that was just the explanation. But it didn't stop there. More peanut butter treats arrived in the house in the next few weeks. Nutter Butters, Reeses Cups, and an unhealthy amount of peanut butter jelly sandwiches.

Jungkook watched in awe as Jennette ate her fifth Reeses in one sitting. The empty wrappers were piling beside her, as she watched an old episode of Martin.

"Jungkook I can literally feel your eyes glaring holes into my face."

"Jeanie are you sure nothing is wrong? Like you aren't hiding anything from me."

"I'm not sick, Jungkook. I'm not coughing, no sore throat, and no fever. I'm literally fine- stop asking."

Six hours later while Jennette was lying in bed, Jungkook lay on his back, deep in thought. The amount of peanut butter products Jennette had been consuming in the past three weeks was absurd. How could she go from gagging at the smell of the ingredient to finishing family-size jars by herself in three days. Jungkook needed to get to the bottom of this. Slipping out of bed, Jungkook went to the 24/7 pharmacy. He went up and down the aisles, hoping to find some fancy brand to explain the eating habits shift.

Tylenol?

Advil?

Metamucil?

No no no.

Soon enough, he found himself of the family planning aisle. In front of him were three rows of Clear Blue pregnancy tests. His heart skipped a beat as he contemplated picking up the pregnancy test.

Better safe than sorry.

The drive back to the house seemed longer, despite him going ten over the speed limit.

"Jeanie... Jeanie baby, wake up." He gently rocked Jennette awake.

"Go away." She yawned turning on her side. She nuzzled into her pillow.

"I need you to take this test for me."

"What test?" Jennette's cracked.

"Just take it."

Irritated, Jennette squinted as she sat up. She slipped her feet into her slippers. She headed into their shared bathroom beside their bedroom. There, she saw a pregnancy test on the counter. Her lips ready to fire off.

"Please just take it. I can't help but think this could be why you have been acting so different lately."

Closing the door, Jennette just went with the motions. Taking the test and peeing on the stick. She wasn't even anxious about the results in the slightest. She wanted to just get back in her bed, before her spot of warmth disappeared.

"Are you done!?"

Jennette washed her hands and opened the door. Jungkook had the edge of his thumb in between in teeth. A soothing habit he only did when he was highly anxious.

Jennette adjusted her bonnet slightly, slipping of her head. She went into her nightstand and put on her signature purple glasses. She couldn't read the test because of her astigmatism in both eyes. The lines would be moving too much for her to read the test accurately.

"See, look, one line." The thin second line arrived as she turned the test to gloat in front of Jungkook.

"Oh fuck."

"Wha-. shitttt." Jennette did a double take, seeing the positive pregnancy test.

Weeks 7-10

The next day Jeannette and Jungkook scheduled an appointment at the doctors office. She got her pre-natal vitamins and an official test done. They found out that they were seven weeks pregnant. The couple wasn't actively trying for a kid, but they were't devastated by the news. They were 29 respectively and could now use the next seven-ish months to prepare themselves for parenthood.

During this time they got their first sonogram. Jungkook was moved to tears and asked for several copies of the picture. One of them going in his car, one on the back of his phone, and the other in his night stand. The picture was so precious to him

It was only one time Jennette experienced morning sickness. She blames the vertigo spell for pushing her over the edge. She was doing perfectly fine, but when she was riding in an elevator one morning. She got nauseous all of a sudden. She told Jungkook, and he ordered her to take it easy for the rest of the day.

Weeks 11-14

This is when the nickname Peanut came about. Now, reaching the end of the first trimester, Jennette and Jungkook was looking at their developing child on the screen. Jungkook could point out their eyes, and tiny toes.

"Looks like this angel is gonna be on the chunky side." The OBGYN commented.

"Their so cute, though. Look at ‘em."

Moving around the wand on Jennette's small belly, they looked at all angles.

"What are they doing doing, doctor?" Jungkook wondered.

"Oh just sucking their thumb."

Jungkook gushed harder at the screen. "Look at our little Peanut."

Weeks 15-18

Time for the long-awaited gender reveal. Jennette and Jungkook opted to keep this moment more intimate. They didn't want a crazy gender reveal party. They were going to keep the gender of their little Peanut a surprise until she was born. But they still had to create a memorable experience.

Surprisingly both Jennette and Jungkook believed that they were having a baby girl. The April weather allowed for Jennette to wear a baby pink shirt and skirt set. Her bump was protruding more, especially from a side-profile perspective. Jungkook was wearing a pink button-up jacket. White t-shirt with pink pants to match. He found this really cute plushy online called 'Cooky'. It was a pink bunny, a perfect gift for the little girl he hoped to have.

"Are you ready to find out the gender of your baby?"

"Yes!" The answered at the same time.

Applying the cold gel on Jennette's belly, the doctor handed the wand to Jungkook. Allowing him to do the honors. He grasped the wand, eyes wide-looking for any declaration of the child's biological sex.

"Wait slow down, bug. Go a little more to the left." Jennette guided. The angle they were looking at they could only see her legs and stomach.

In a gasp of excitement, Jennette saw the outline of a labia majora. Stronger than she anticipated, she gripped Jungkook's shoulder and shook him.

"We're having a baby girl! OMG! OMG!"

“Peanuts a girl! She’s a girl! I’m a girl dad !!!”

Jungkook jumped up and down. The wand was long forgotten as it hit the ground. The OBGYN enjoyed watching the couple celebrate their baby girl.

Week 19- 22

Jungkook was very protective over Jennette's now obvious baby bump. Whenever they were out in public together, he walked slightly in front of her. Avoiding from touchy strangers, placing their filthy hands on her stomach. Only he could touch Jennette's stomach. His little peanut was inside, and he was obligated to protect her, and her mother of course.

On a lazy Sunday morning, Jungkook was playing with Peanut. Jennette was able to feel her kicking, and her moving around in her stomach. Her baby was quite receptive to her father's voice. Jungkook would stand on one side of Jenentte and speak. Watching the little imprints of hands and feet press against her stomach. Indiciating that Peanut was following her father's voice.

"Oh Toodles." Jennette jokingly tapped her stomach. Jungkook was coming closer to her, to do his daily quality time with his baby. She felt a flutter in response.

"Peanut. Come to me sweet girl."

"Ooo!" Jennette reacted to the sudden dart across her stomach.

"That may have been the fastest she's moved." Jennette paused in between her words. Her little Peanut was developing some speed, which always tired her. Even though she hadn't moved a muscle.

"Okay come to this side." And peanut did. Jungkook capturing the moment on his phone.

"I'm for sure showing her this when she's older." He snickered. "Okay I'm over here now."

Week 23-26

Jennette and Jungkook were sitting a frozen yogurt creamery looking at another sonogram picture of their little Peanut. They had gotten a really nice close-up of Peanut's face. Her lips and eyes were well-seen in the image.

"Peanut will be the first person in my family who is bald."

"Everyone in my family is born bald. Including me.” Jungkook commented. He dug deep into his camera roll finding an image of him when he was just a few days old.

"Oh-" Failing to hold in her laughter, Jennette's stomach shook with a violent laugh. Poor Peanut probably thought she was on a roller coaster.

"Most black babies I've seen were born with a head full of hair. It would explain why I don't have heartburn." Doing the same Jennette pulled up a picture of herself when she was a baby. She was born with a mini afro, just like her mother and her sister.

"But look I can already tell she has your eyes. I just know they are gonna be so pretty."

Jungkook agreed. "I make some pretty babies."

"I make pretty babies." Jennette emphasized.

"Can't argue with that baby." Jungkook took a scoop of Jennette's yogurt. "I hope she looks like you."

"I hope so too."

"Just because you said that, Peanut will look just like her daddy." Jungkook kissed her belly. His tattooed hand rubbed over the now darker vertical line running down her bump.

Leaving the yogurt shop, Jungkook and Jennette walked around the area, getting some exercise. Like an excited dad, Jungkook told random strangers he passed about his "twin".

"My twin is in there."

"She only has four more months left."

Week 27-30

Jennette is super clumsy. Don't hand her anything fragile that can break. She has butter fingers unlike ever before. Jungkook had to move the precious pottery to the top of the cabinets. No way would she step on a ladder to get it, so it would require Jungkook to assist you.

"Bug you up?"

Jungkook had a tough training session in the gym and was trying to take a cat nap on the couch. It was 2 am and he believed that Jennette had already been sleep.

"Huh? What's wrong? Peanut good?"

"Yes, she's good. A craving is just hitting me."

"Peanut butter is in the pantry. You can reach it." Jungkook pouted his lips, looking so adorable in Jennette's eyes. She felt bad for waking him up.

"But I kinda want something different. I'm sorry baby."

"Don't apologize. I got you." With one eye barely open, Jungkook got the sweet treat Jennette had been craving. Being the good boyfriend that I knew he would be.

Week 33-36

Peanut's baby shower was a busy affair. Jennette's side of the family flew out to Korea. Her parents, grandma, and her little sister Asia were all able to come. Jungkook's parents handled all the food matters for the party. Jennette was hanging up some decor on the walls.

Jennette felt as big as a house. She looked exhausted and greasy. New growth from her braids were taking over her scalp. The August heat was not making her feel any better. She was already constantly warm with a growing child in her belly. The external temperature of high 80s didn't help either.

It was smart for her to get dressed later in the day, as she would have sweated out her yellow sundress. Instead, she was in her comfy maternity shorts that were extra-large. Cream-colored stretchmarks ran rampant across the surface of her stomach. She hasn't been able to see her feet in the past month or so. She could only imagine what her feet looked like.

Jungkook came down the stairs. Blothes of paint on an old graphic T-shirt. "Baby, there you are. I have something to show you." Jungkook was cheery this morning despite the few hours of sleep he got. He waited at the airport to pick of Jennette's family before coming home around 2 am.

"Come look." Jungkook gently dragged Jennette up the stairs. He had been cooped upstairs with his friends for the last four hours.

"Voila!"

Peanut's crib was set up along the purple-colored walls. There were small animals along the wall. The purple went along nicely with the accent color of white. White flowers were thinly painted, creating a beautiful garden of flowers. Which all came ahead above where Peanut's crib was.

"Bug I love it!" Not wanting to cry, Jennette felt so moved by everything she saw. The nurse was so homey for their Peanut. The carpet was soft, a mobile spun slowly.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Jennette thanked Jungkook's friends, her Peanut's uncles. She would forever treasure the beautiful work that they did.

"Come on you need to get dressed. Guest will be coming in less than an hour."

Week 37-40

Jungkook is the type of boyfriend with labor emergency kits in every vehicle. So that no matter what car they were in, if they needed to drive straight to the hospital then they could. With Peanut arriving in less than a few weeks, Jungkook has become a lot more stressed.

He overreacts to any groan coming from Jennette.

"Was that a contraction?"

"Did your water break?"

"Do you feel her head coming out? Lay down, let me look."

Jungkook was getting on Jennette's last nerves. His pre-parental panic was cramping her style. She looked like a goddess. Afro out, wearing slightly form-fitting clothing. She was like Rihanna, making her bump an accessory with her outfit. Not hiding it under maternity clothing. She does several solo maternity shoots before inviting Jungkook to do a couple with her.

The afternoon of August 31st is when Jennette's water breaks. She was baking peanut butter cookies when a liquid trickled down her leg. Jungkook who was in the shower, wasted no time ushering his pregnant girlfriend to the hospital.

It was seven o'clock and Jennette was only four centimeters dialed. She bounced on a huge yoga ball. She did breathing exercises, and Jungkook was attentive the entire time.

Rubbing her back when requested. Holding her hand, kissing her forehead.

"You are doing amazing baby. I love you so much."

Jennette could FaceTime her mother for a couple of hours as she slowly dialted to eight. Her contractions were becoming closer together, and Peanut was slowly lowering herself into the birth canal.

"I don't think I could do this again." She huffed. She wasn't in pain but was in extreme discomfort. She couldn't get comfortable laying on her back. It just felt wrong.

"Whatever you say baby. Peanut is enough for me."

"Bug can you hold me up. I don't think I can lay down any longer."

Jungkook did just that. As Jennette moaned through her contractions, Jungkook rubbed her back. Trying to keep the hospital gown as closed as possible, he didn't want her ass out for any passing staff member to see.

"Thank you so much Jeanie." Jungkook was on the brink of tears. With the help of three other nurses, Jennette was lying on her back again. The doctor had declared Jennette at 10cm. She could start pushing, and her contractions were much closer together.

"AHHHHHH!"

"GET HER OUTTTT! NOWWWWW" Jennette tossed and turned her head. Her screams of discomfort broke Jungkook's heart. He didn't know what else to say but 'Thank you' and 'I love you'.

Jungkook held Jennette's hand for the entire twenty minutes she was pushing. Jennette's head hit her pillow with a soft thud. All energy left her body, as she watched the doctor hold Peanut in the air. Her lip was quivering with no sound.

"Why isn't she crying?" Jennette choked out, trying not to cry. The nurses didn't respond, wiping Peanut's face of all the mucus. Jungkook's eyes never left Peanut. Her little pink self. He couldn't help but smile and notice that Peanut was bald. Very little hair was on her head, but Jungkook didn't care. She was the prettiest baby he had ever seen. Bald or not.

The doctor smacked Peanut's bottom, eliciting a scream.

"Oh my baby." Jennette smiled, arms open, ready to hold her. Peanut was placed on Jennette's chest. Jennette nuzzled her cheek against hers. Loving the warmth Peanut radiated. Jennetted motioned for Jungkook to get in the bed with her.

"Come on, come hold her. Take your shirt off for skin to skin."

Jungkook was a crying mess holding Peanut. This was the same person scattering across Jennette's stomach as the sound of his voice. He was now face to face with his Peanut. Yeah Jungkook was crying real bad.

Her eyes were like Jungkook's. It was too early to determine her skin complexion as she was just different shades of pink and slight grey. Her nose and lips were like Jennette's. After being washed up and dressed she took a nap on her mother’s chest. Preparing for her baldness, Jungkook put on a gentle (non-squeezing) bow on her head.

Looking at the time, Jungkook smiled even harder.

"Guess it was fate for Peanut to be my twin."

"What makes you say that?"

Shaking his phone, Jennette saw the time.

12:28 am September 1st.

"You got your twin bug. You definitely got your twin."

Series Masterlist:

#bts x black reader #bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts x oc #bts x black oc #black fanfiction #jungkook x jennette #madameaug #black fem reader #black tumblr #black kpop fans #kpop

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rayslittlekitten · 8 months

Text

I Almost Told You That I Loved You Ch. 17

Chapter 16 | IATYTILY Masterlist | Chapter 18

A/N: I am anticipating maybe five more chapters of this. That might be overshooting but I haven't fleshed out the ending ending yet.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,537

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! reader

Plot: This takes place shortly after Tara leaves Charming. You start working at Teller-Morrow and an unlikely and messy relationship forms between you and Jax.

Warnings: mentions of emotional abuse?

Your car’s been acting up again. There is something rattling but other than that, the car seems to be running okay. No concerning lights are on, on the dashboard. You make a note to have someone check it out for you at TM tomorrow while you’re at work. Right now, you just need to make it home from school.

As you’re waiting at a red light, you feel and hear a motorcycle rumbling nearby. Instinctually, you look around for it and see one pulling up into the intersection perpendicular to you. Your stomach drops when you see Jax with a woman hugging him tightly from behind. Jax looks over his shoulder with a big smirk on his face. She leans in to kiss him and he kisses back.

*HOOOOOONK*

The person behind you leans on their horn, startling you and breaking Jax and his passenger apart. You floor it, hoping you can speed past them and he wouldn’t recognize you. Before Jax could realize what all the commotion is about, the woman distracts him again, pulling his attention back to her.

***

You haven’t talked to Jax since Sunday night and you’re still not sure what was bothering him, but you have a suspicion. He thinks he’s so complex and mysterious, but you’ve learned his habits and his antics are getting old really quick.

“Hey Ope, can you please get someone to take a look at my car? It’s making a weird noise.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll have Jax take a look,” Opie replies.

“Jax is shit at fixing cars,” you tell him. “Can you get Kai to do it instead?”

“I don’t know. We have a pretty tight schedule today.”

“Excuse me?”Jax strolls in from behind you and Opie. “Oh, please, Kai doesn’t know what to do with a car like yours.”

“I’m sure Kai can fix a goddamn spaceship if they existed,” you scoff at him.

Jax looks back at you for a moment with furrowed brows.

“What the hell? Is it that time of the month or something? Why the fuck are you copping an attitude with me?” He steps up to you.

Your eyes widen and a chuckle slips out of you.

“Are you serious? First off, fuck you. Secondly, you have the nerve to act like you weren’t acting strange Sunday night? You barely said bye to me before leaving,” you tell him.

“I told you, I wasn’t feeling well,” Jax shoves his hands into his pockets of his coveralls and shrugs.

Opie starts backing away and disappearing in the background without saying a word. This is no longer about your car and he doesn’t want to be involved.

“Oh, really? You must have felt much better yesterday having a little joyride with your newest thrill of the week,” you reply.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jax shakes his head and shrugs. He didn’t even blink.

“Jax, you can cut the bullshit. I saw you and that blonde yesterday, making out at the red light!”

Jax shifts his weight, his eyes redirect themselves to the concrete ground.

“Were you upset on Sunday because of what Luann asked me? About me staying or leaving for a new school?” you ask with arms crossed.

Jax lets out an exasperated sigh as he shifts his weight back to his other feet, looking away from you. His jaw twitches.

“And is that also why you went and buried your dick in someone else again?”

He scoffs, a smirk playing on his face.

“I don’t know if you did it to try to hurt me and put distance between us or if it’s your way to cope with your feelings, but if I’m going to be your girlfriend, this can’t keep happening,” you state.

“Girlfriend?” he chuckles and finally makes eye contact with you again. “Where’d you get that crazy idea from?”

You look back at him confused. You know the two of you technically never made it official, but he’s acting like you both didn’t have a conversation about it the other day.

“Oh, do you mean what we talked about last week? I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend. I asked if you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he continues.

“And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” he sneers.

You want to slap that smug look off his face.

“You must think your pussy is that special, huh?” he laughs.

This isn’t new to you. It’s all flowers and hand holding one day and then completely ghosting you the next. The constant back and forth, giving and taking, making you feel loved and then making you feel undeserving. And in all that, the real winner is blaming it all on you. It’s always your fault. You should have known better. Why did you piss him off? Look what you made him do. But you’re not going to let the responsibility fall on you for this one. Not this time.

“Fuck you, Teller!” You growl and stalk away.

***

After clocking out, you walk out to the parking lot, you find Jax leaning on the driver’s side of your car having a smoke. You walk towards it and stop at a comfortable distance and glare at him. He notices you and pushes himself off your car. It’s been about a week of silent treatment from the both of you since the falling out.

“Hey,” Jax greets and then tosses his cigarette.

“Hey,” you reply flatly.

“Can we talk?”

“About?” you huff with crossed arms.

“Can we do this somewhere private?” His mouth twists.

You look at him, thinking about what you want to do.

“We can swing by and pick up some sandwiches,” he suggests with the slightest smile playing on his lips.

“Jax, I don’t know if–”

“I’m sorry for all the shit I said to you last time. You didn’t deserve that,” he cuts you off.

You are a bit thrown off by his apology.

“Did your moral compass steer you in the right direction again?” you ask sarcastically, wondering if he realized his behavior all on his own.

“Huh?” he asks, his brows knitted.

“Opie. I still don’t know how so completely different people are best friends,” you comment, your guard lowering a bit. “I don’t know if you realize he helps you out a lot.”

”Yeah, he’s a real one,” he nods, flashing a small smile. “That’s why he’s going to be my VP when the gavel gets passed down to me.”

“But no,” he shakes his head and then takes a step closer to you. “I know I fucked up and said some really fucked up things.”

He cautiously reaches out for your waist and pulls you in.

“I miss you.”

He leans in to kiss you, but you give him a gentle push, stopping him.

“No, Jax. That’s not how this works,” you tell him. “You can’t just do whatever you want, then apologize and assume everything is all good again.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, pulling back a bit.

“I’m tired of getting punished for whatever Tara did to you,” you tell him. “And your jealousy problems especially when I’m not even your girlfriend.”

You notice a tick in his jaw.

“You want to know what happened with me and Tara? Fine, I’ll tell you,” he states.

He gestures his head towards the clubhouse. You hesitate but then follow him. You and Jax end up on the roof where the two of you can have some privacy.

“Tara was the first girl I fell in love with and she broke my fucking heart when she left,” he starts to explain. “I really thought we were going to have this fairytale ending, just me and her against the world. She’d be my old lady while I run the club and we’d pop out a few kids, get a dog, white picket fence, the whole thing.”

He pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“She even talked about wanting to provide the life for our future children that she never got growing up but wanted. Her mom died when she was young, and her dad became a drunk. Still is, actually. I was going to take care of her, but it wasn’t good enough for her.”

He gently shakes his head as his jaw flexes again and a snarl starts forming.

“Tara had nobody! I opened up my home, my club, my heart to her and how did she thank me? By leaving!” He barks.

“You have nobody!” your ex threw in your face. “Without me, you’d be nothing but a sad, pathetic little girl.”

“I wanted to hurt you before you could hurt me,” he confesses. “And that’s not fair to you.”

So the man does have a conscience and can be self-aware. You wonder what changed.

“I’m sorry.” He looks over at you and puts his hand over yours, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry, too. That you went through that heartache,” you sympathize.

“Can you forgive me?”

He seems sincere, but you’re taking it all in with a big grain of salt. You’ve heard this song and dance before too many times.

“Okay,” you finally nod and a smile splays across Jax’s face.

#Charlie hunnam #Charlie hunnam fanfiction #Jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller x female reader #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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wowowwild · 3 months

Text

Klavier gets a vague text from Apollo on his day off asking him to meet in the park. Whatever could be the reason?

Klavier woke up to a day like any other. It was a Saturday, so he wouldn't have to go to work, or do much of anything really. He would lounge around with his brother's dog, he hadn't even known his brother had a dog before... but he did and now that dog was technically Klavier's dog. Vongole was sweet and friendly, and Klavier had always been a dog person, and though it had been 6 months already, it would likely be a little longer before he could think of her as his own dog. It still sometimes felt like he was just dog sitting and his brother would come back any day. He could tell Vongole felt the same. But Kristoph wasn't coming back. He was going to continue sitting in a cell on death row until the state appointed reaper came to harvest what was left of his brother's soul.

An hour or so into lounging, Klavier received a text. Herr Forehead! Now there was someone who could always brighten Klavier's day. His courtroom rival always had such interesting reactions and expressions, it was hard not to enjoy his presences. And of course his genuineness and intensity were hard to ignore. Plus they sought the same thing in the courtroom, even if they had basically nothing in common outside of it... Right, the text.

HF: Are you doing anything today?

That was unexpected. Usually it was Klavier trying to see the attorney outside of work. And he had yet to be successful.

KG: Is this your way of asking me out on a date? ;)

The response was almost immediate.

HF: NO!!!

Klavier chuckled. He could imagine the chords of steel and how Apollo would blush in response.

HF: I wouldn't ask someone out over text, that's just tacky. HF: I was just wondering.

A multi-texter then. Klavier filed that knowledge away in the folder of absolutely useless information he knew about people. If only his brain would use that space to remember the things he actually needed to.

KG: Did you need something? I am always available for you, Schatzi.

Was he maybe laying it on a little thick? Sure. But he was Klavier Gavin, after all.

HF: I don't NEED anything. Why are you being so weird?

… That wasn't the response he expected. He had thought that his text was totally in character- Ah, maybe that was it. Herr Forehead had never been fond of his 'character', and he had a habit of seeing right through it, though he was pretty sure it had something to do with the intense staring, so he wasn't sure how that had worked over text.

KG: I am just trying to ask what exactly you are asking. HF: I asked if you're doing anything today, but I'm guessing you're not since you love telling people all about your plans and all you've done so far is dodge the question. Meet me at People Park. KG: That's a bold assumption.

He waited a minute, but Apollo didn't respond again.

KG: You didn't even tell me what time.

Again, Klavier did not get a response. He groaned.

KG: Can I bring Vongole? HF: Sure. KG: Oh, so that you'll respond to.

You know, Klavier was getting a little annoyed by this point. Not only was Forehead being mysterious and quite frankly rude, Klavier was going to have to go incognito which meant dressing plainly, and Apollo had never seen him dress this way. It was a tragedy, honestly. He should have expected it though, since when he woke up this morning his coffee machine had broken. Maybe he could still wear something cute.

Looking through his clothes, Klavier found a lavender sweater that used to be his mother's and some black ripped skinny jeans Daryan had made him buy. He hadn't worn either in ages, but they would do nicely. Despite being half way through April, it was still a bit chilly. It was... difficult to put the pants on, not because they didn't fit, but because he could remember so vividly the day they had been bought. A lot had changed since then. Too much. Too little. The sweater was a comfort, though. If his mother were there, she would know just what to say, just what to do. But she wasn't, so Klavier just finished getting ready and called for Vongole. All he had to do was say 'park' and she was ready to go.

When he arrived at People Park, he put his 'please don't recognize me' baseball cap on. He had elected to leave his hair down and free in hopes that it would further distance himself from his public persona. It wasn't hard to find Apollo, his red sweatshirt immediately drawing Klavier's eye. He was sitting on a bench, watching the birds, or at least looking in the sky in their direction. It was always hard for Klavier to tell what Apollo was thinking.

“Herr Forehead!”

Apollo turned to look at him, staring again, appraising.

“Uh, hiya. You're, umm... Hi.” “Ja, hallo.” “Right. Oh!” Vongole jumped up onto the bench next to him. “Well hello there, princess. It's been a while, hasn't it.”

Apollo Justice just called his dog 'princess'. That was adorable. But... they'd met before? How... interesting, that Kristoph had introduced Apollo to his dog, but never spoke about his brother even once. Whatever. It didn't matter now.

“Prosecutor Gavin?” “Hmm?” “Are you ok?” His face must have been showing his thoughts. Unfortunately Herr Forehead had always been good at reading him. “Ja, I'm fine. But call me Klavier, bitte. This is hardly the courtroom.” “Oh, um... ok. Klavier.”

Apollo said his name like it was a piece of testimony he wasn't sure about. Klavier didn't know how to feel about that.

“W-well, then you have to call me Apollo!” Apollo suddenly burst out. “No more Forehead business.” Klavier blinked, paused, and chuckled. “Of course. Apollo, then.”

Apollo's cheeks flushed a bit, but Klavier couldn't tell what the source was. Perhaps embarrassment at his outburst? It's not like Klavier minded. It was all part of that unique Forehead charm. Apollo.

“So what did you have planned now that you've drawn me out here? Nothing nefarious, I hope.” “Wh- No! Why would you even ask that,” Apollo huffed. Klavier was about to apologize, but Apollo continued, “I just um... I dunno.” “Now see, the thing is, I don't think that's true. I think you just don't want to tell me.”

Apollo looked at him and squinted his eyes, possibly trying to guess what Klavier had figured out, which was genuinely nothing. Apollo was a mystery to him still, Klavier just knew that he didn't do things without reason, or maybe reason wasn't quite correct, considering the blunders he frequently made in court. No, intent was more like it. Apollo had some intent inviting him out.

“You know, I think I've got you all figured out,” Klavier lied. He knew Apollo would know. “You've finally succumbed to my charms and were hoping to make a confession in the place that we first met. How romantic!” Apollo glared at him. “Get real, Gavin.” “Then perhaps the defence has an alternate theory?” “... Nope.”

Well that was rude. Now Klavier had a lot of traits, some good, some... less good, but quite possibly the most intense was that Klavier Gavin was a nosy bitch and he needed to know! Apollo had never invited him anywhere before, especially not like this. And here he was just sitting on a park bench petting Klavier's dog and giving her pet names like they hung out all the time! Sure, he had felt a sort of connection with the other man during their court battles, and he hoped that Apollo had felt it too, but they weren't close by any stretch of the word. In fact he had been pretty certain up until that text that Apollo wasn't very fond of him at all.

“You're thinking too much. Do you want to feed the ducks?” “I- Hä?” “They're really friendly, though now that I think about it, Vongole might chase them. We could walk around the pond, though. Maybe she's mellowed out since then.” Vongole certainly had not mellowed out, or if she had, she must have been a terror before, but Klavier thought that maybe if he said yes he might get to find out what he wanted to know. “Ja, a walk sounds nice.” “Cool.”

Vongole did try to chase the ducks, but funnily enough it was Apollo who got her to calm down.

“You're very good with her.” “Ah, um...” Apollo winced and looked to the side. “If I mimic him well enough she listens. She always behaved for him, but I think someone taught her to do whatever she wanted when he wasn't there.” “Ah...” What else could he say? He had to imagine it wasn't a fun thing for Apollo to do. “Was... was he a good mentor?” “The best,” Apollo replied without hesitation. “Was he a good brother?” “Ja... Ja, the best.” “Too bad he's a piece of shit.”

Klavier froze. Apollo was always a little out of pocket, but, well, how was anyone supposed to respond to that. Once Klavier found his wits he looked to Apollo who was similarly frozen in place. Vongole had sat down on the trail between them looking very pleased with herself. And Klavier laughed. He laughed hard and with his whole body. It felt like years since he had laughed so hard, though really it might have been. By the time he was done he was crouched down and wheezing, tears streaming from his eyes.

“Ja, too bad. Mein arschgeige Bruder had to go and lie and cheat and kill and my best friend followed suit. Mein Gott they are assholes.” Well Apollo looked worried now, but Klavier felt great. “You know, when I was little he used to sing me back to sleep when I had a nightmare, and if it was a bad one he would let me sleep in his bed. And whenever I would get scraped up doing something stupid, which believe it or not, happened often,” he heard Apollo snort at that, “he would bandage me up and scold me for being so reckless. No matter how many times I did, or how stupid the stunt he would still help me. Even just a few years ago I was worried about him so I asked him to help me with a cut I got and he still did. I'm not certain when exactly it started, but I had noticed by the time I turned 16 that he was more closed off, more paranoid. I tried my best, and sometimes I still feel like I should have tried harder, but how could I have known? And why would he ever have talked to me about it? I wasn't just a kid, I was a kid he raised. He needed someone else and there was no one. It always was just us against the world. Of course I made friends, whatever good that did me, but he never did. I'm glad he had Vongole. You know after all of the times I had asked for one as a kid, that bastard finally went and got a dog as soon as I left. He was right not to let me have one, but still. And every year for my birthday-” Klavier froze. His birthday. He looked up to Apollo who nodded with a sad smile. “Every year for my birthday which is today, he would bake me Oma's topfentorte,” Klavier spoke slowly. “He wasn't perfect, but he was my brother. Still is, I guess.”

Klavier got the distinct feeling that if Apollo didn't stop him, he would just keep going until he'd spilled his guts all over the path. He also had a feeling that Apollo wouldn't stop him.

“And then there was Daryan. Whenever Kristoph and I fought, Daryan was always in my corner. And, I mean, Daryan was an asshole in the first place, but he was my asshole. My best friend. And I would have done just about anything for him. And I still have no idea why he did it, because he won't tell me, and if he did it for a good reason, I don't see why he wouldn't. I also don't see why he would have gotten a child involved. The only thing he will tell me is how pissed he is that I didn't help him get out of it, as if that's something anyone who knows me would ever think I'd do. Maybe, maybe, if it had just been the smuggling and his intentions were good, but how could he ever think I would help a murderer?”

Tears were welling in his eyes again, so he tilted his head up in an effort to not let them fall. It was bad enough he had just dumped all of this on Apollo, someone he couldn't even really be considered friends with, he didn't want to start crying in front of him, too.

“You don't have to do that.”

Klavier looked at Apollo in confusion.

“I mean, obviously if it makes you uncomfortable, then you can do whatever, I mean you can anyway, but there's no one else here. It's just me. And Vongole, but I don't think that's a problem for you. So... you can cry if you need to. It fucking sucks what they put you through. And it's not fair because you're so good. And I mean no one should have to go through that, but especially you. You're so kind and determined and strong. I don't like that they've made you second guess yourself, and I don't like that they've damaged your sense of security. You deserve good things. If you can't have them... Um, but, yeah. There are still people who care about you, you know?” “I... I'm beginning to see that.” “Yeah, um, actually, if you wanted, Trucy kind of prepared this whole thing back at the Agency, she's not going to be upset if you're not feeling up to it, but she invited a couple of people. She's going to call me when it's all ready.” “Ah, I'm... You all are too kind.” “It's nothing, really. They're like that with everyone.” “And you? I seem to recall you being rather prickly with most people.” “I'm not prickly, people are just annoying...” Apollo grumbled. Klavier laughed. “And yet you feel for them all the same.”

Apollo huffed. They stood in silence, watching the ducks, Vongole watching a little more intently than the humans beside her.

“So what about you?” “Me?” “I've just poured my heart out to you, do you have anything to get off your chest?” “... Nope. I'm fine.” “Really,” Klavier gave him his best judgemental look. “Yep.” “So there's absolutely nothing you would benefit from sharing?” “Let's put it this way, the only reason anyone knows my birthday is because they needed a birth certificate to hire me and the only reason anyone knows my favorite color is because I wear it everyday. I am content to live out my days with my closest companion being my cat.” “... You have a cat?” “... Maybe...” “That's it, I have a new goal in life.” “Oh, goody,” Apollo deadpanned. “I'm going to figure you out.” “Good luck with that.” “Thank you, I will take it.” “Wait, no, I didn't actually mean-” “It's too late. I have it now.” “Well bad luck then! Bad luck!” “No, I think you can keep that one.” “No! Take the bad luck! You already have the good luck so it will just balance out!” “I would argue that in general I have exceedingly bad luck.” “... Ok, you can keep the good luck, but use it on a case or something.” “The case of Apollo Justice.” “No, a different one.” “Nuh-uh, sorry.” “Did you just 'nuh-uh' me?” “What're you gonna do about it, Forehead?” Klavier grinned Apollo grinned right back at him. “Hey! I'll show you what I'm gonna do, Gavin-”

They were cut off by Guitar's Serenade playing out. That was probably for the best since Vongole was latching on to their excitement, and she was a menace while excited.

“Oh, that's Trucy.” He answered the phone, which looked absolutely ancient in Klavier’s opinion. A flip phone? Really? “Hey, Truce... Woah, calm down I already told him... Why wouldn't I? Not everyone likes surprises... I'll ask him then! Do you like surprises?” Oh, that one was for him. “Ah, sometimes. In this case I'm glad you told me, though.” “Did you hear that? … No, how do I put it on speaker? … Ok, well he said he was glad I told him... Well, yeah- Actually, wait, he never gave me an answer. Do you want to go? To the thing Trucy did- I know it's called a party,” he grumbled the last bit into his phone. “Ja. I think that will be nice.” “He said yes... No, I'm not going to tell him that, tell him yourself when we get there... Ack! I'm hanging up now, bye!” “Umm...” “Ok, let's go. She'll have my head if we take too long.” “What was that last bit about?” “Absolutely nothing.” “Fine, fine. I'll just ask Fraulein Magician when we get there.” “You can ask.” “You don't think I'll get an answer?” “Nope.” “I bet I can.” “I bet you can't.” “You're on.”

Apollo sighed and shook his head, a small smile still gracing his features.

“Oh, before that...” “Yeah?” Apollo's full attention was right back on him, not that Klavier was sure it had ever left. “If you ever need to have a breakdown with someone other than your cat... I don't believe in transactional care, but it would make us even.” Klavier flicked his bangs. “And I wouldn't mind.” “... Yeah. Ok.”

Klavier still had the feeling that if at all possible, Apollo would never follow through, but he had done all he could to make it an option.

“So what kind of cake did they get me?” “How am I supposed to know? My job was to get you there and that's it.” Klavier chuckled. “They wouldn't tell you, would they.” “'Wouldn't you like to know, Apollo?'” Apollo did his best Trucy impression if Trucy was also incredibly annoyed by the things she was saying.

Klavier laughed. He wasn't sure exactly how Apollo felt, but as far as he was concerned, Klavier had walked into that park lonely and out with a friend.

#ace's fic #ace attorney #apollo justice #klavier gavin #i'm going to tag it bc it can be read this way ->#klapollo #vongole #i hope everything came across how i wanted it to. sometimes i think i leave a little too much up to interpretation.#anyway i hope y'all enjoy my bday gift from me to me

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secretaccountlol · 1 year

Text

“Photos are the window to the soul”

Dude, I haven’t posted in so long I forgot how to even Format my writing.

I apologize for my hiatus I hit a bad artblock, but I dug up a old wip I felt like y’all would like, since I’ve influx of this trope coming in the Peter fics lately it’s a lil short though (I wanted to make it longer but couldn’t get anything to stick) but I hope it still satisfies you.

18+ no minors please!!

Insecure? Reader x Peter!

Cw: photo taking during sexy time (consent given), brief talk of voyeurism (Peter lil stalker habits) , spanking, sir kink, talks of body image hating, insecurities etc. as always typos probably

Uhm enjoy! (If you did please repost or comment)

“Peter, please” Your hands shield your face from his camera as he tries to dodge around to get a peak of your face through the slivers of space between your fingers. This was a daily occurrence, Peter taking pictures of you, well trying to at least, it wasn’t like you hated it, more like you hated yourself. Okay, Hated was extreme but you weren’t fond of looking at pictures of yourself. Something about it made you feel so strange about yourself; it was like you could see every insecurity multiplied by 10, which is a bad combo when one, your boyfriend literally works at the daily bugle, and two, loves taking photos of you.

“Baby, please. I need a new pic of you!” Your doe-eyed boyfriend pouted as his camera dropped to his side, as you giggled. “Oh for your stash?” you rubbed your nose as a panicked look swarmed Peter’s face. “I- what? No. I don’t have a stash-? I mean unless having pictures of your girlfriends is weird, I mean I don’t think it’s weird! Hahah-“ Peter rambled as you stared at him Incredulous. “Peter, it's okay I know you have a drawer full of pictures of me already. Including those stalker pictures, you took of me while you were being the masked vigilante, Spi-” you stop leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Spiderman.” you grin as you study his flustered face, you weren't often confident but when you were it drove him crazy, you could see the gears in peter’s head twist and bend trying to decide what he could quip next. “I- well. Uhm..w-” Peter’s words stumbled out as his breath hitched.

“It's okay, I thought it was hot.” you shrugged. “Plus not like we weren't dating already, you were just following to protect me, right?” you kiss his cheek as he nodded, you chortle. “You okay there, Parker? Cat got your tongue?” you tap his chin, waking him up from his shocked state.

“God, You- man I love you.” Peter’s hands wrap around your waist. “You just made me… So horny.” you could see his eyes dilate as they scanned your countenance. “Can..I-?” His hands shift, sliding you closer to him.

You grinned again, “Peter, Of course.” Peter’s lips push onto yours in a sweet kiss.

“Hey! Consent is desirable baby, haven't you heard?” Peter's eyes crinkled in delight as you smile. He tilted his head,

“Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

You both skip to the bedroom hand in hand.

—-

“Peter” you huff as his hands play with the hem of your shirt. “Mm, tell me baby, do you like this shirt?” Peter's voice was steady as his eyes looked at yours with desire. Your pants have already been discarded somewhere, “I can do without it” you smirk, his hands instantly rip through your shirt earning a gasp. “Mm, black lace? My favorite. You planned this didn’t you minx” you laugh at his comment. “Mm, I did, didn’t I?” You kick your feet, blushing, your confidence was wearing off as you covered your chest, looking away.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Peter's hands held your arms gently as he tried to look you in the eyes.

“I-uhm nothing. It’s nothing, just a little insecure.” Your voice was light as Peter frown took shape. “I- still wanna have sex, Pete.” You glance at him as he gently kisses your forehead.

“Okay, lay down for me, love.” you obey his command , moving around trying to get comfy as Peter removes his clothing. “You're gorgeous, y’know?” you stare at his back, tracing the scars with your eyes. “I'm serious, babe. I love you, your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your personality, and your body. Everything.” his eyes met yours with passion, you could feel yourself tearing up.

You mumbled his name as he gently tenderly kissed you, throwing his leg over your sides, your eyes close

taut as you take in his breath. “I’m gonna make sure you know by the end of this, sweetheart.” His voice against your lips made you shiver as you heard a camera click and your eyes flew open. “Peter?” your boyfriend stood tall over you as he checked his camera beaming at the picture. “You look radiant, baby.” he turns the camera so you can look at yourself but you instantly shut your eyes again, you hear Peter groan. “I-i don't wanna see, Pete!”

“Why not?”

“Bec-”

“Because what!”

“Because I feel ugly!”

There's a pause before you open your eyes to peek at him, his ocher eyes were full of heartache. “Baby.”

“It- I.. Just when I look at myself in pictures I just feel like you can see every little imperfection I have..” you pause again

“I’m sorry, I- ruined the mood. “ you lift yourself up before Peter presses you back down.

“No, you didn't. In fact, I have an idea, Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you, Parker.”

“Good, cus we’re gonna do some exposure therapy”

Before you could doubt him, another snap of his camera. “Haha, you look too cute in this one.”

His smile made you grin wide, as you uttered his name. His free hand traveled down to your chest, groping your breast softly, your eyes fluttered, another click. “I'm glad I finally get to immortalize this beautiful body.” you groan. “Peter, please I'm no-” a smack cuts the air as you gasp as your ass stings.

“Talk shit bout yourself again and you'll get another spanking. Understand?” The sternness in his voice caught you off guard as you nod. You and Peter weren't new to trying new stuff in the bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve actually roleplayed, you bit your lip in eagerness.

“Y-yes sir, sorry sir.” you tilt your head down in fake shame. “T-teach me how to..love myself sir...” Your hands glide against his chest, as you try to sit up again, Peter’s hands shove you down again. “Mm, you're stubborn, baby. Course I'll help ya, but you have to be a good girl and stay put, okay?” Peter’s voice infected your brain with a ripple of pleasure as you nod eagerly.

“Yes sir.” His eyes connected to yours, with fire his lip bitten in anticipation. His eyes finally tear away from you as he grabs his phone from the bedside table.

“Do you know what this is, sweetheart?” his head tilted in question. You nod, “Yes, it’s a phone, sir.” You look at the phone curiously before staring at Peter.

“Good girl, so smart. Now, you know what phones do right? They take pictures and videos.” Peter’s eyes hang low as your eyebrows knit in concentration.

“You see, I don't always have my camera with me. This means I can't always see the pictures I've taken of you. Get it?” he lets the cold corner of the phone glide on your skin, tracing the curves of your breast. “So, I'm thinking I should take more..pictures, for the road. Would you like that, darling?” You smile as you see his tongue peek out behind his teeth.

“Yes, yes I would sir.” You chuckled, “Please, sir is my father’s name, Call me spiderman.” You and Peter shared a mischievous smirk. “Mm, okay Spidey. My boyfriend probably won't like knowing you have pictures of me on your phone.” Your head tilted, taunting him.

“Oh? But he doesn't have to know, does he?” Peter’s hands grip your chin gently. “Plus I'm sure he doesn't mind sharing.” you nod at his statement before Peter bends down to capture your lips. His hand travels down to your panties, snapping the waistband making you giggle. His fingers pick at your lacey panties before

Plunging his hands into your panties, circling your clit as you whine into his mouth.

“I love hearin’ you..' ' his freehand effortlessly pulls down your panties as the other makes long strides up and down your slit, the noises you make were pornographic, you use to be embarrassed, and sometimes still are to moan but Peter snubbed that out a long time ago.

“Oh, I’ve gotta get this on video.” Your eyes watch as Peter fiddled with his phone before his bright flash blinded you for a second before you could make out his shit-eating grin as your face felt hot. “Sorry about the flashbang, darling. But I gotta make sure I can see that pretty Lil face on camera, right?” his other hand tilts your chin towards the camera before panning down your body, making you shiver. “God, just.. So wonderful. Your boyfriend is a lucky man, y’know?” Peter’s thumb stroked your clit as he spoke, “N-no I'm a lucky..wom-!” you buck up, groaning as his fingers slide into your hole without warning.

“Pete-ah!.” Peter tsked, slapping your clit making you jolt, “It’s Spider-Man, remember?” He tapped your lips softly before he slid down to your pussy.

“Now look.at.this..You’re so wet. All for me?” His fingers found your hole once again.

“Yes! Yes! Mm all for you, Spider-Man!” You cover your eyes as you see the light flash on your bare pussy. “Your cunt makes so many pretty noises, I hope they show up on video.” Peter's voice breaks the silence, “I wanna hear more pretty sounds from someone else, though.” Your eyes close tight as you feel his breath on your neck.

“Come on, pretty baby, let it out.” His fingers pick up speed as you feel the warmth of the flash on your face as it contorts in pleasure. “Spider- I’m- I can’t..” your breath quickens as your back arches, “Oh-! I-im..!” Your hand grabs his wrist, his fingers curl into you, you whimper, your eyes close as you throw your head as you cum.

Your breaths are shallow as you come down from your high. Peter’s kisses bruise your skin as you groan, “Mmm-, that was … good.”

“Just good? Spider-Man doesn’t do just good, babe.” you giggle as you watch Pete’s eyes furrow in fake anger, “Perhaps you can show me how great, amazing, or even Spectacular you are then, hm?”

You laugh as Peter pulls you into another kiss.

#tasm!peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker oneshot #tasm andrew garfield #mcu!peter smut #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #spiderman x you #spider man x reader

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kickassfu · 1 year

Note

Ohhh those Siken prompts are so Steddie coded. Could I get number 6?

Thanks for this? You're wonderful and I love you!! Also on AO3.

6. i was finding myself sleepless and he was running out of lullabies.

It’s an odd habit they’ve gotten themselves into these last few weeks, months? However long it’s been really because time is weird, there’s either too much of it or not enough, it stretches and thins as it wishes, whenever and however it pleases.

And great, now he’s sounding like Eddie.

They’ve been spending far too much time together, so much so that he’s apparently assimilated his…weirdness. As much as he’d like to fix that, maybe pull away, spend some time alone to fit himself back into the persona he has carefully constructed over the years, the matter of fact is he can’t.

There’s a reason this became a habit, there’s a reason he and Eddie have practically mind melded (not as completely as he and Robin, but that’s besides the point).

It’s as simple as Steve Harrington no longer being able to fall asleep without Eddie Munson beside him. The cadence of Eddie’s voice, the warmth of him and the way he’s completely fearless in the way he touches him, so sure that Steve won’t push him away even though they’re friends. Just friends. Who sleep together. Almost every night.

And it should be weird, it should be weird, but it isn’t.

Because Eddie feels like comfort, like home, like love.

Like love.

Love.

Eddie’s right there, just in reach, talking soothingly and melodic as a lullaby and Steve can’t sleep.

He must notice something’s wrong because Eddie tenderly runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, over and over again, shifting closer and closer to him, “What are you worrying your pretty little head over?”

You, you, you, always you.

“Can’t sleep,” Steve whispers, hiding his face against Eddie’s neck.

“Nothing to worry about then, I bet I can talk your ear off until you fall asleep from exhaustion or tune out from pure boredom.”

“I’ve never fallen asleep because you bored me, only because I love your voice.” The softness, the tenderness, the absolute fucking care and kindness Eddie treats him with. It’s too honest, he’s too much, like always.

Steve can never stop from giving all of himself away after just a bit of kindness, but to him all the little bits Eddie gives him are everything.

No one’s ever been this careful with him.

And no one else ever will.

So he’ll live in this in between if he must; just enough to keep breathing.

The way Eddie pulls him fully into his arms, holding onto him tight is unexpected, the end of a star, the birth of a supernova. But it’s only when Eddie tugs his face from his safe haven, only when Eddie softly kisses his forehead, his nose, his fluttering eyelids, that Steve dies and is born anew.

“I love you,” Steve sobs, once again unable to help himself. He’d cut off the heart right out of his chest if Eddie asked it of him. Only Eddie would never ask that. Would never want to see Steve in pain.

“Oh sweetheart,” Eddie says, leaning his forehead on Steve’s, eyes slightly shining from unshed tears, “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

Kissing someone has never been so easy, so warm.

And falling asleep has never felt so safe.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #mine #my fics #SERIOUSLY THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME A PROMPT I LOVE YOU #my ficlets #ask answered

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awkwardgtace · 10 months

Text

Statues Aren't Great For Hiding

well anon for day 12 we have that new kind of setting for melody and kyrie. Hope you see this!!

Kyrie is just trying to watch Melody, but things go wrong.

Statues Aren't Great For Hiding

Kyrie had to hurry. Byss and Pel had taken longer than usual to go to bed. All the preparations were done, but they were a bit nervous for the next few days. He had to fake sleeping while they worked, but with how long it took he actually fell asleep. He just had to hope he hadn’t missed too much.

He slid as the opening in the wall came into view. As always he hit the base of one of the statues. It was placed in the perfect spot, it took a while to confirm that his impact could never knock it down. Of course he was a little proud of the times he had to push it back into place.

“Oh, gotta go guys. Finally gonna finish the fight,” the human in the room said. Kyrie poked his head out from behind the statue. He hadn’t been too late, she wasn’t playing the game yet. Kyrie slid to his knees, quickly pulling out his canteen and getting comfortable. “Yeah yeah, tomorrow it’ll be all over the news. ‘Melody failed to finish her game for the tenth time in a week’. Shut up, bye.”

Melody laughed and Kyrie smiled. He loved watching her play games or just talk to the people in the computer. She had some weird habits when she played games lately though. She’d turn around and almost scan the room. More than once he swore her eyes had found him, but she never acted. Each and every time she’d turn back to face her computer and start the game.

This time she hovered with her eyes looking towards him longer before she spun around. He shuffled further behind the statue, but he couldn’t keep himself from staring into her eyes. He’d never thought brown could shine until he saw those eyes. A part of him wanted to talk to her. He knew the rules, the risks, but those eyes always looked kind.

“Damn it,” she growled. The words made him shy away. It reminded him why he couldn’t risk it. She did have an anger, could get loud, her brother would bring up her issues at times. When she would punch walls or throw things. Kyrie had never seen her do the violent things though. “All the work I put in for inventory management earlier is gone. The fuckin save corrupted.”

Melody leaned forward and focused on the screen. Kyrie shuffled back out to use the base of the statue like a seat. From here he could see her scrolling through a list quickly. He didn’t have the best reading skills, but he didn’t think humans could read as fast as the letters changed. Another thing that kept him from taking the risk to meet her like he wanted. She saw things and understood too quickly. She was why Byss and Pel were so nervous. She’d be alone in the house for a few days.

“Mel, I got you something,” the other human’s voice echoed through the house. Kyrie shivered, that one was who would catch them. Melody always acted terrified of bugs that made their way inside, the other one killed them. Her scream would always lead to his appearance and a loud bang of something tiny being squashed. “It’s something you thought you missed out on.”

“Crap,” Melody’s whisper made him jump. She was usually excited when her brother brought her things. It was usually another box of something she’d put up on the shelves he often hid on. The shelf he was currently on…

Melody was up faster than he’d ever seen her move. Usually she had slow movements, like she was trying to make them easy to read. This time she was towering over him before he could even think. The same eyes that he always imagined finding him were staring right at him. No chance of it being a mistake. They were worried, scared, and angry.

Kyrie tried to move, but her hands were already around him. She’d talked about having small hands, but right now he couldn’t believe that at all. He wanted to scream or fight, but soft slender fingers wrapped around him. He curled up as the hand turned into an all encompassing fist. If he stayed standing he’d be taller than her palm, he stretched out just in time to see over her pale skin. He hated that her hands were soft.

Just as the fist became tight enough he couldn’t move the door clicked open. She pulled her hand behind her back and turned. From where he was held he could see the computer and the window. The screens were black and he saw the other twin walk in with a new statue in his hands.

“Cap, what did you find?” she asked. Her voice rolled through him in a way he’d never felt before. He’d never considered her voice deep, but here he could feel the bass.

“That statue of the guy you played in replicant,” Caprice said. Byss and Pel never worried about him. He didn’t care when something didn’t add up, but Melody always did. This was the worst situation for him, in the room with both at once. Melody was holding him in a way that would make it easy to give him to her brother. To have his life crushed because her fear won and he was something small.

“Wait, you got brother nier?”

Kyrie shivered at her excitement. She might forget about him, let him go and he’d fall. She was observant, but clumsy. The fingers around him didn’t move at all. She started to bounce on her feet. Kyrie was terrified.

“Yup, can I add him to your shelf then?” Caprice asked and Kyrie flinched. The man was already grabbing for the statue he’d been hiding behind. There was no way Melody was protecting him… right? She hadn’t grabbed him to hide him, the two always told each other they didn’t keep secrets. She’d show him off right away.

“Please do, right next to the nendroid I got of him,” Melody laughed.

She pulled her hand from behind her back and held it near her chest as Caprice moved closer to the shelves. Kyrie could see the moment Caprice lifted the statue he always hid behind. If he closed his eyes he could see the angry look as the man took care of a pest for his sister. He’d seen it before, the secret acts of pests killed before Melody could be scared.

Kyrie stayed terrified as Caprice easily moved the statue he always hid behind. The one that he’d barely managed to turn by crashing into with his full weight. He knew humans were terrifying. He knew watching Melody during the day was a risk. He never thought he’d be forced to watch this. It was like she wanted him to see what his fate could or would be.

As soon as the new statue was set on the shelf, he was moved again. This time held at Melody’s side. Her fist tightened a little, but Kyrie was too scared to even squeak. Caprice turned around and wrapped Melody in a hug. The hand holding Kyrie was left at her side, but where he was let him see Caprice’s arms right where she’d first been holding him.

Melody just might be protecting him.

“This is great Cap, thank you so much. I thought he’d be impossible to find,” Melody said.

“I owe you something when you keep replacing my binders before even I know I need a new one,” Caprice laughed. They pulled apart and Melody placed both her hands over her heart. The one Kyrie was in was covered by the other, Caprice still couldn’t see him.

“Hey, I’m gonna do anything I can to help my brother feel comfortable. Now leave before I decide that fact stops when you hold up my horror games.”

“I just brought you a statue, you could be nicer.” Kyrie watched as Melody pushed Caprice out.

“Yes and I appreciate you, but you need to leave in less than an hour and I want to finish this today. I already told the others I’m finishing today and they don’t believe me.”

“Well you aren’t going to. You’ll start then decide to play with the figure because you always do.”

“Shut. Now go, and have a fun trip. Make sure to text me when you get there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caprice turned and pulled Melody into another hug. Kyrie was squished between them, her soft chest was all he could feel besides her hand. It was sort of nice. “Really Mel, thanks. I’ll tell mom and dad you were sad you couldn’t come along.”

“Thanks Cap.” She pushed him away again and turned Caprice to leave. “Go, you actually wanted to go to the reunion. Enjoy it ok?”

“Alright alright.”

Finally Caprice left and Melody slowly shut the door. Kyrie watched her lock it. It was only then he noticed the way the massive heart beneath him was beating. The panic in it as she turned away from the now locked door. Her steps were deceptively light. She wasn’t a thin human, the other one was. His steps were always so much heavier.

“Ok, that’s handled. No way he knows anything is up,” she mumbled. Kyrie tensed, she talked to herself a lot. That didn’t make this easier. Even if she was hiding him from Caprice she’d kept him in her hand. Tightly trapped and unable to run. It was only then he realized how high he was from the floor, how easy a fall could kill him.

She sat in the chair she used for her computer. He could see the dark screens reflecting her nervous face. It made it clear how little he existed while she held him like this. Her chest was heaving beneath him as she took deep breaths. Each inhale pushed him out and each exhale had him closer to the panicked beat. Slowly the hand around him moved away from her chest.

Melody brought her hand down to the table in front of them. Kyrie had tears in the corners of his eyes. She hadn’t let Caprice see him so maybe she didn’t think he was a pest. Maybe she just thought he was some cool figure? Maybe she’d think he was a dream and let him go? Maybe… he should have listened to Byss and Pel, stop sneaking out to watch her. Stop being curious and daydreaming about if he revealed himself to her.

The fist around him loosened slowly. As soon as her fingers started to become just a cage he fell to his knees. How would he get out of this? How would he tell the others they had to move? How could he even face them if he survived this? Eventually the slender fingers were gone and all he could do was stare up at the shining brown that he was wishing hadn’t seen him all those times he thought they did.

“Are you ok?” she whispered. Kyrie couldn’t make himself talk. Her hands were still close, they could close in on him. Was she going to see him as a pest once she learned anything? “I’m so sorry about that. I knew Cap would go right to the shelf and set it up. I didn’t want him to find you.”

“What?” he breathed. Melody shifted. The brown hair she used to make strange colors rested on the table around him. Her eyes were directly above him, he could touch them.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you well. I-I didn’t hurt you right? Oh man I don’t think I know what to do if I did. Shit, shit, shit.”

“What are you gonna do?” His voice sounded stronger than he felt. Those shining brown eyes had tears pooling at the edge. Her hair smelled nice, like the hall near the bathroom when she showered. He was strangely at ease like this, encompassed and hidden by her. By a human that should terrify him.

“Probably go back to my game so I stop panicking about grabbing you? Unless you leave then probably try to watch some video…”

“Why?”

“You’ve been watching me haven’t you?”

Kyrie scrambled back when she said that. She wasn’t supposed to know. Every time he thought she’d seen him… She had. Now what would happen? He knew she knew, she’d do something to them. That was humans. Even if he didn’t believe she would. Her fingers came near to him again. He was terrified.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. Fuck I messed this whole thing up. I’m so bad at shit like this. Why don’t we try something else?” Melody sat back and changed the way her fingers hovered. One sat just in front of him. “I’m Melody, but maybe you knew that already.”

Kyrie took a deep breath and reached out for her finger. His nails easily dug into her skin, but she didn’t react. “Kyrie…”

“Nice to meet you, officially I guess.”

When she laughed, Kyrie's heart skipped. All this time he had wondered what she’d do. If she’d hurt him or call Caprice to kill him like a spider. They never had mice, but that was mostly because of Pel. She hated dealing with them in the walls, it was ten times worse at their size. He tightened his hold on her finger, using it as leverage to stand again. He felt so small next to her, he was supposed to be tall among borrowers.

“You didn’t hurt me,” he said. A smile was sent his way. A smile that he’d seen so many times, that he dreamed about facing him so many times. That in his worst nightmares smiled at him while Caprice killed him. “Why did you hide me? I thought you two don’t do that.”

“Oh,” she sighed. Her smile changed, softer than before. A warm far off look. “Well, to be honest when I was a kid I used to watch this show with little people your size. They had mouse tails though. I kind of figured if you were real it was the same as the show, I shouldn’t know about you and Caprice shouldn’t either.”

“Humans know about me?”

“No, creatures like you are just stories. A story that’s apparently real, but not one I get to tell.”

“So you… you won’t tell him about us?”

“Us…?” She tilted her head, it was cute, but he realized what he did. He let her know there were more. Kyrie ran, he had to get home. If she decided to change… He shook his head. Byss and Pel had to know. They had to be ready. “Wait!” Her hands slammed down around him. Kyrie couldn’t stop himself from ramming into them. He fell off his feet and looked up at those shing brown eyes.

He shook, the bit of confidence he was gaining died. At the end of the day she was human. She had control in this situation. Except her hands disappeared. She stood up, her full height a terrifying image. She walked away from him. Kyrie could run, get home, tell the others and they could move. Yet he couldn’t make himself leave.

“I shouldn’t have stopped you, I'm sorry,” she said. Her voice carried so easily. He wished his own could do that. “I mean, I’d be terrified if I was that small and someone did that. I just… I’m not going to hurt you or anyone like you.”

She turned around and her eyes were closed. She smiled, but it looked almost empty. There were things she talked about recently. Caprice was going where a lot of humans would be, humans they both knew, but she wasn’t. It was when he talked most often about her throwing things or punching things, when he mentioned their past.

“It’s ok really, I know I can be scary. I can leave the room if you want so you can run without wondering if I watched. Although I always kind of assumed you were coming out of the wall near my shelves,” she laughed again, but it was hollow. There was something that he’d heard faintly. He could barely understand what it meant, that she was a problem in high school. He didn’t really know what that was, but she wasn’t scary.

“I’m not afraid,” he said. Somehow his voice traveled like her own. Just like he wished it could. Her eyes opened wide, the shine he had been enamored by seemed to grow. She started to take a step forward, but hesitated.

“You can stay there while I play today if you want.” It was Kyrie’s turn to be shocked. He had so many questions that he always wanted to ask. Just considering how she knew what the fast moving letters met.

“Really? Won’t I get in the way?”

“How? It’s not like you’ll be sitting on my mouse.”

“You have a mouse?! I’ve never seen it?” Melody walked forward, sitting back in the chair. She leaned forward, a warm smile. She put a finger on the thing she always had her hand on.

“This is called a mouse. It’s not a real one, just because it used to kind of look like one. Mine’s a bit too glowy for that.”

“Can… Can I ask you questions?”

“I mean you kind of are aren’t you?” Kyrie was excited to be what made her laugh. He knew Byss would kill him later, but he liked this. He liked Melody, he’d liked her since they first got here. Even when she screamed in fear at bugs or begged Caprice to kill them. He wasn’t a bug right. “I sort of expect it, go ahead. I might ramble if it’s about the game though.”

“What am I?” It slipped out. He covered his mouth with his hands, he didn’t want to know. The bit of his dreams coming true would fall apart.

“A person? I mean is there a word I should know? That show I talked about said littles, but honestly sounds kind of weird to me. I mean humans don’t call elephants bigs or anything. I guess maybe you’re a brownie? Or some other fairy kind of thing?”

“What happens if I scare you?”

“Uh… you scare me? I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” Melody leaned forward again. Her hair surrounded him. This time he reached out, feeling the soft brown he’d been curious about. He wanted to ask so many things, but what if she decided to hurt him? “I mean Cap just barges into my room sometimes and scares me, I hit him once by accident. That’s kind of all I got.”

Kyrie didn’t know what to say. If she knew what he thought would she be mad? Would she change? At the same time he was scared she’d never hold him again. Her hands were soft and even unsure about what she was doing they made him feel safe. He didn’t want to be afraid of her, to wonder if she’d change. Except what if it was Pel or Byss they were shorter than him. Would it change what she saw…

“Why am I different?” he whispered. Melody leaned even closer. Her breath washed over him. He looked up and touched her face, she shivered. “What if I was the size of some of those bugs?”

“Is that what’s scaring you?” her words were soft, warm. It was all he could think of with her. “You’re not a bug. Even then if a spider could talk I’d be a lot less scared. I could ask it to leave rather than hope it won’t touch me.”

“So it’s because I talk?” Somehow that didn’t help. It made it worse, what if it was Pel and she was frozen. What if it was Byss and he refused?

“Well no, I mean obviously talking helps. I wouldn’t just volunteer to have something killed for no reason. I can ask Cap to stop killing bugs if that’s what worries you. I just have always been anxious about them…” She leaned back a bit. “You’re big for whatever you are, aren’t you?”

Kyrie could only bring himself to nod.

“Looking like a person definitely helps, but honestly I only really scream about spiders and house centipedes cause those things are terrifying. Although, I can be terrifying too. Maybe I’ll just need you to be the one to handle the bugs instead of Cap from now on.” He knew she was joking, but his cheeks flushed a bright red. He kind of liked the idea of protecting her. It helped that her voice was so quiet he knew no one else could have heard it. Not even another borrower.

“Let him go!” Byssal’s voice echoed in the room. Melody pulled back to look around, her eyes locking on the tiny man with green hair. Kyrie didn’t know what would happen next.

“Bye Mel!” Caprice’s voice yelled from somewhere else. This would be the time for her to call for him. To get help to take care of Kyrie, Byss, and Pel. Her hands surrounded him.

“Bye Cap, Have fun lemme know if you get any good gossip!”

Her hands disappeared and he was left in silence. He stumbled a bit away from her to see Byssal standing on the shelf of figures. The one added today made him look even smaller than normal. Melody stood up, the fact he knew she was short for humans made it worse. She walked over to Byssal and leaned close to look at him.

“Ok, I see why you’d be worried,” she said. Then she spun on her heel, marched back to Kyrie and reached for him. He tensed as her fingers grew close so she stopped and set her hand flat instead.

Kyrie could feel Byssal’s gaze. The older man had taught him so much, been almost like a father. Here he was breaking all the rules, talking to a human, going out when she was here alone, and now he was climbing right into her hand. He felt kind of big next to her though. Maybe her hands were small and he’d say it another time.

Melody curled her fingers up around him as soon as he was in her palm. She pulled him up from the table to her chest and honestly he liked it. He liked her powerful heart beating behind him. The soft feeling of her around him. He didn’t want her to put him down ever. He wanted more of this. Sadly she reached the shelf and brought her hand to Byssal.

“I won’t do anything to any of you,” she whispered. He looked back at her smile. “You’re free to tell me if you need anything. And I won’t tell my brother either.”

“She wasn’t keeping me,” Kyrie whispered. Byssal still glared at him. The older man grabbed his arm and dragged Kyrie off the warm palm. Together they disappeared into the wall, looking back he caught a glimpse of her waving. He could see in her eyes she didn’t think they’d meet again.

Byss dragged him through the walls. It would be easy enough to overtake the older man, but Kyrie didn’t want to make him angrier. By the time they reached home he wasn’t sure anything that happened was real. Melody being so kind, hiding him, saying he could protect her from what scared her.

“Kyrie!” Pel’s shout knocked him back to reality. She pulled him into a hug, she was less than half his height. “We were so worried. Why would you go out when you know the girl is the only one here?! She might have seen-”

“She did,” Byss cut her off. “I found him trapped on her desk. She just… gave him to me.”

“I wasn’t trapped!” Kyrie tried. Both his parental figures glared at him. Byss ran a hand down his face and sighed.

“We have a lot to discuss, and decide tonight.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Melody hadn’t felt great after meeting the tiny people in her home. Caprice wasn’t going to hurt them, but she would still keep quiet. It wasn’t likely they were even still there if the stuff from those old shows related to them at all. It had already been a day she had to get over it. The game she planned to finish sat staring in her face, but she didn’t really want to do it without her little audience.

For about the tenth time in as many minutes she let out a heavy sigh. Closed her games launcher and focused on a movie instead. There were plenty she liked watching, although she was a bit more interested in ones with tiny people which wouldn’t help right now. She had imagined meeting one when she was younger, but she never thought they’d think she’d want them dead.

Melody settled on a silly animated movie she watched a lot. She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes as the opening played. She’d heard it a hundred times, could picture the scenes in her head. It would help her relax at least.

“Isn’t it hard to watch these things like that?” Kyrie’s voice made her jump. She stared down at her desk, shocked to find the tiny man staring up at her. His smile was so wide it made her own face hurt. “You watch this one a lot, why is that? What are they called anyway? Oh… am I still allowed to ask you questions?”

Melody laughed, “It’s not like you got to ask any yesterday. I just like this, it’s called a movie. I closed my eyes because I know it so well… Is this your visit to tell me you’re leaving?”

He walked forward and two other people smaller than him walked out. Kyrie truly was big for his size. Next to him was the green haired one from yesterday, a little more than half Kyrie’s height and a blonde one even smaller. She leaned forward, frowning as the green haired one moved to protect the blonde one.

“You didn’t have to give me more proof,” she whispered. A vain hope it would lighten the tension. “I could already see why you were worried I’d hurt one of you. None of you had to come see me.”

“We’re here to talk with you,” the green haired one came forward. Melody nodded. “Humans like you are dangerous and we shouldn’t trust you. There’s more stories than I could ever tell to explain why talking to you like this is foolish-”

“What he means is we’re willing to take a risk if you’re willing to listen to some rules,” the blonde one cut the green haired man off.

“As long as it’s not killing someone I think I can probably listen.” Kyrie was beaming as he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her like that before, it made her struggle to keep her eyes on him.

“You won’t tell anyone, even the other human you live with, that we’re here. You won’t touch us unless we allow it or it’s to stop another human from seeing us.”

“What if you’re in danger and don’t know it? Like I don’t know a cat’s about to pounce or something?” The three small people shivered, Melody grimaced. It was clear she made a bad choice of example. The blonde stepped forward again.

“Those times are ok too. More so only if it’s an emergency.”

Melody nodded.

“You won’t ask us about what we are or others like us. No stories written about us either. Like the one you brought up, nothing like that.”

“I don’t think I’d be good enough to write about silly adventures you take. A hard hitting drama maybe,” the glares made her joke fall flat in her throat, “sorry it was a joke. Even if I wanted to take that route in my life, you’d have to give me the ok first. So I promise no stories.”

“If we ask for something you get it for us, no questions asked.” The green haired man crossed his arms. Something made her think this was the deal breaker.

“Ok, but if it’s hard to get or like really expensive can I ask in case there’s an alternative?”

“What’s expensive?” Kyrie’s question was almost a welcome interjection. He seemed to trust her at least.

“Like it’s hard for me to get or risky to get kind of things. Like if you ask for a diamond I kind of need to know why before I go and get myself into debt or prison or something.”

“We reserve the right not to answer.”

“Then I reserve the right to say no if it’s something unreasonably hard to get.”

The green haired man stared at her. She wasn’t sure what the next moments were going to lead to. He wasn’t happy with her answer, it was clear. She wasn’t going to promise and break it later. Eventually he sighed and stepped forward. A single miniscule hand was held out to her. She brought her finger and thumb close, carefully pinching it between both.

“Then we’ll be staying. You can call me Byssal,” he huffed. She followed as he moved his tiny arm up and down. When she let go it was hard to believe she hadn’t hurt him.

“I’m Pelago, Pel is just fine though!” the blonde smiled.

“I’m Melody, I hope I can prove you were right to trust me.”

The two turned to leave, she expected Kyrie to do the same. Instead he moved closer to her and sat down right in front of her keyboard. His brazen attitude was amazing. She didn’t know how to treat someone like this, but she liked it. She was careful as she switched from her headset to her speakers. Turning the volume down to protect the small man’s ears.

“Maybe, you can finish that game now?” he asked.

“Let’s finish the fight,” she smiled.

#gt #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t #g/t writing #gt writing #gianttiny #gt community #g/t community #oc:melody #oc:kyrie #gt july 2023 #gt july #gt july video games #not sure how this one went #but i liked it so there's that

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poisonouswritings · 1 year

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Okay ik i havent been here in a while but,,,sage,,,sage is one nosey mktherfuckir. I can imagine him evesdropping on a conversation while you two would be out together and he's just so,,,,zoned out listening to it,,, he'd probably let you in on whatever drama he's listening to. Maybe he uses that to time whenever he's going to join a betting game? Also him hearing other people complimenting you across the bar but you don't know what's up and just kinda watch him get more and more worked up and agitated lmao. Even worse if said people decide to approach you

He could probably hear people fucking in the back alley lmao

Hi Ozzy :3

Omg hi Egg!!! It's been a while but I also haven't been around in a while so it evens out

GN!Reader, hehe I love jealous Sage sm actually

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Sage is a nosey little fucker. On the streets, there with two main bargaining chips; money (which always talks) and knowledge (which is garnered by talking). Knowledge could be anything from having an itemized list of what shipments are coming into the dock and how much they're worth to horrible, vile blackmail that can make the leader of the Sunstone Order look the other way at your crimes.

And since he rarely ever had extra gold, knowledge was his best bet.

So he learned to eavesdrop. He might not remember names it takes him an embarrassingly long time to memorize yours, so for the first few weeks you know him he basically never used your name but he remembers faces and hair colors and random little details, and that's enough to be useful.

Even when things do get a little more stable and he's no longer stumbling on the edge of nothingness, old habits die hard. So when you're at the tavern and he hears some interesting gossip, he listens.

And if it's something funny, or dramatic, or just plain weird, he'll tell you about it. Sometimes it's not even intentional. He'll be zoning out, sipping on his ale while you chat with Tulsi, and he'll just start rambling about it.

He's buzzed,, his head is on your shoulder and you're stroking his ears,,, and he just starts parroting whatever he hears and it startles the shit out of you because he's talking about a murder?? Is he okay??? Is he possessed???? And then you put two and two together and realize Oh He's Talking About Murdering Someone In Cards and then he suddenly gets up and joins the poker game going on because now he knows who to target.

He goes up to the bar to get a drink and you whisper "HEY SAGE YOU HAVE A CUTE ASS!" and his ears fold down and his tail starts wagging and when he comes back he's blushing a little and he calls you a dork but he can't stop smiling

But sometimes you'll be sitting and talking and he'll suddenly go quiet. His ears will flick. He'll pout and put an arm around your shoulders (even if that means getting up and moving to your side of the table). And that's how you know he's jealous about something.

Do you tell him you know he's jealous, or do you play dumb to tease him?

Sometimes you'll be at the bar ordering food and suddenly Sage will show up behind you and wrap his arms around you,, if he's drunk enough then he'll just start hissing at whoever was coming up to hit on you.

>:( You're his >:( and he's yours >:( so why won't people leave you guys alone >:(

He's so whiney about it too

And if the person/people were saying super disrespectful/inappropriate things about you?? Then he will get in their face and start cussing them out. Usually in Vair so you don't know exactly what they were saying about you, or what threats he's hurling at them.

Also,, after that happens,,, he'll start nomming on your neck/collarbone because he has to mark you!! 'Cause you're his!!!

Also there are a couple of times you guys are gonna leave via the back door to the alley (especially when there's some kind of brawl going on) but then he'll stop,, kinda snicker,,, steer you back out the front but his tail wraps around your upper thigh and kinda slides up and down a little,,,,,, hehe

#last legacy #fictif last legacy #sage lesath #fictif sage #last legacy sage #sage lesath x reader #fren asks #egg anon #ozzy answers #ozzy daydreams

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alovelyburn · 10 months

Text

Rambles about the Millenium Falcon Arc Part 5

...long time no see.

I actually did start writing this a month ago, but it took a bit to get my brain back in the right place after so long away. BUT I’M BACK hi.

Rambles about the Millenium Falcon Arc Part 5

Even though I do think Isidro is meant to evoke Guts he’s obviously not a 1-to-1 comparison, like he’s much more of a chaos imp than Guts ever was. Also he’s scrawny – I do wonder if he should focus more on ranged combat given how good he is with missile attacks. This doesn’t matter at all, but I’m warming up, lmao.

One of the things Miura talked about when he discussed the reason for the reaction for whatever such and such a character was this idea of designing characters to bring out different shades of Guts in order to make him a more multidimensional character. I think this is something he really excelled at – it’s interesting to see his more mentorly side coming out, not to mention the difference between the way Guts treats Isidro and, say, the way Gambino treated him does highlight Guts’ generally better... nature.

And that’s interesting because I’ve talked a lot before about how post-Eclipse (and pre-meeting Griffith) Guts had taken on a lot of Gambino’s traits and attitudes... which is arguably not the best way to navigate the world. But that’s a side of him that comes out mostly when he’s alone and frustrated – when he’s a kid on the road, for example, or after the Eclipse but before meeting Puck. Which is to say, it’s a self-defense mechanism for when he feels lost or angry and lonely without a lot of outlet. When he has people around he chills out considerably, which makes his attempts at being a lone wolf feel a little self-destructive.

I just love how Guts is completely disinterested unless there’s some kind of fight involved. More than that, though, as a pretty straightforward person I suppose he doesn’t have a lot of interest in interacting with people who are wearing a civil mask and carrying ulterior motives.

As for Serpico, it must be odd watching her change so quickly and so completely. This is the beginning of a longer subplot with him watching being weirded out by it and I guess kind of jealous and kind of saddened that Guts and their companions were able to change Farnese in ways he was unable to and thus make her a much healthier and less troubled person.

Okay so as a sidenote, I do really get tired of this. I understand that Casca and Farnese are the most helpless in the group, but the thing where they are constantly the ones targeted for danger is a little meh. You could argue that in the case of trolls it makes sense – given what we later learn about their actions and breeding habits – but it’s still repetitive because they end up being swept up and pulled into troll haven or whatever together again in the future, so like maybe a different plot point? Like the trolls’ presence could have been announced with a battle scene and then Casca and Farnese could have been separated from the group later without eliciting a kind of “oh this again?” type of response, I’m just saying.

Anyway, you know the deal, me and fight scenes are like, eh.

The introduction of magic definitely changed the tone of Berserk. Miura did mention that he made it difficult to manage and slow to start up for balance reasons, and I do think the balance has been largely maintained but it obviously did change the scale of the series and the battles – same with the Berserker armor, for example. This isn’t actually a problem for me in theory but I think the one thing I wish he had done is... I guess better foreshadow the existence of all these things, right?

Like I don’t expect him to have witches in the BSM arc for example – he hadn’t even thought of it yet, he didn’t even know what the main conflict of the story would be until volume 3. But it would have been cool to have more of a buildup leading into Flora and Schierke’s introduction.

Anyway it doesn’t bother me that much, it’s more like the existence of the Hawk prophecies – a missed opportunity that was probably missed just because he hadn’t thought of it yet.

I wonder if Ivalera is going to like, make more of an impact on me during this readthrough. Because honestly, this is volume 24 right? She’s been with them for almost 20 volumes, and I never remember that she exists.

Ah, Schierke. It’s almost fitting that the kind of lighter/less grim tone came in with her because the anime vibes kind of did, too – green hair and all that. I should clarify that I don’t actually mind the lighter tone or the magic or anything, I just think it’s interesting how quickly Berserk went from like grim gritty low fantasy that borders on horror to like epic fantasy adventures. This arc is kind of a transitional point since the trolls are very old Berserk, but obviously the introduction of Schierke and Ivalera really bridge into new Berserk.

Okay this is a little bit of a tangent, but it’s something I was just thinking about today.

So Casca is, for me, uhh... so many a series has a character in it that’s like a major part of the story but you just can’t warm to them and kinda wish they weren’t there because they feel kind of like baggage. That’s how I feel about Post-Eclipse Casca. Like during the Golden Age she served a narrative purpose right, she’s a foil for Guts and then his love interest and then one of his greatest losses. Cool.

Post-Eclipse though I’m just not sure. Don’t get me wrong, I know she’s involved in the story, like half the story is about getting her to Elfhelm. But – and im not sure whether I can articulate this properly but I’m trying – I feel like even though the story revolves around her, she is nonetheless an extra appendage to the plot. She’s a MacGuffin. Her existence causes people to run around trying to do things but she herself is not involved in those things or even really important to them and there’s no purpose she serves in the story that couldn’t be served by something else without much of a change to the core of the plot.

Guts could get to Conviction any way – he could just go there because of the revelation from Griffith, he could get dragged there by Farnese and then escape, he could just be led there by fate – there’s nothing inherent to the Conviction arc that requires him to be chasing Casca. You could say her biggest contribution to the plot post-Eclipse is as a Griffith-obsession-meter, like if he doesn’t care about her, then he’s in full Griffith-fixation mode, and if he’s focused on protecting her, his Griffith obsession is waning.

I don’t know. There is a large part of the fanbase (most of it in the English speaker quarter, in fact) that perceives her as the third protagonist and really puts a narrative weight on her but I honestly think it’s mostly headcanon and cope, lmao. She’s a MacGuffin.

Anyway the reason this section kinda set me off on it is because Casca gets kidnapped or spirited off to Trollhaven twice in this one arc, and she was sexually assaulted twice since Conviction, and she was sexually assaulted and pushed around and used as a MacGuffin for most of Conviction and while this is somewhat true of Farnese as well at this point (the troll thing anyway)... Farnese then becomes a much more formidable person under her own power whereas Casca languishes, gets her memory back, has multiple unconsciousness-inducing flashbacks and then gets kidnapped.

Hmm, I guess the gist of this rant is just “Casca is a character Miura randomly decided to hook up with Guts for drama and then kept around so that Guts would stay mad, and it shows.”

And of course it helps that Casca ends up spending more time with Farnese than Guts so that relationship isn’t’ really emphasized very much outside of a “what is she to you? Oooohh I think I know....” comment every like 8 real world years.

Anyway if she turns out to be crucial in a way that is unique to her later, I’ll be relieved but for now I’m eh.

/rant mode off

So one of the things I really enjoy about Berserk is this feeling that Griffith’s presence, or even the promise of his arrival, inherently changes the world. Before the Eclipse, apostles became more active, and after it they were obviously more present than they had bene before. And after Griffith’s reincarnation, the barrier between the physical and the astral planes start to blur a bit, bringing the monsters out and strengthening the magical gifts of people like Sonia. His presence is such that he changes the world simply by being there... in various ways. Obviously things like bringing the trolls into the world aren’t great, lmao.

And, of course, Guts understands what’s going on even if no one else does yet.

Establishment shot! I’m sort of fascinated by Flora’s mansion if only because it doesn’t actually exist in the physical world.

Now that I’ve gone into that whole rant about Casca, I will take a moment to say it’d be cool if there turned out to be a reason she randomly went digging in the golem – an instinct through her connection to the Moonkid/Griffith, maybe, or just an instinct in general. It’s not something I expect to come up, to be clear – she’s probably just being a curious child since she’s mentally a toddler. But you know, wishful thinking.

This image really sent me off on a death spiral into one of my more obscure theories, which I’m not going to talk about because I hate being wrong about things I’m not ready to be wrong about. But anyway I did look a bit into the meaning of the pentagram which told me... first of all that the use of the pentagram seems to precede any of the meanings we know to ascribe to it, which make sense. But also, that the points of the pentagram represent either the wounds of Christ, the senses, or five elements.

This sent me into a rabbit hole of reading up on elements as understood in different cultures. What I found interesting was like, it seems most places (most) have the same four elements we still talk about today at least to some degree (like it might be wind instead of air, but you know), but there’s sometimes a fifth thing – spirit or heart, for example, in the case of neoplatonic elements, or void/emptiness for Japanese philosophy.

And then I thought about the way Miura liked to combine the philosophies and religious tenants from different cultures instead of trying to fully replicate a specific perspective in his work. Rather the cosmology of Berserk is a little bit of everything, you know? Which made me think... considering the fifth element in Berserk’s world to be Spirit or Emptiness works very well with the way Berserk is set up but it also tends to imply that there’s a fifth elemental lord, unless the joke is that the element is emptiness so the spot for the lord is empty. I’ll probably yada yada more about this when I get to Schierke’s spell in the village because she does say something interesting that I think bears commentary.

But the way Miura repeatedly put the pentagram in a prominent position - even having a whole panel that was nothing but the pentagram, strikes me as interesting and significant.

But one of the things is this: I believe that all religions in Berserk are faces for the same underlying powers – IoE and the Godhand (and perhaps some other servants who fulfill different functions but we don’t know about that). It explains why the old Godhand look like ancient gods, and it explains why Flora triggers Guts’ brand, which is supposed to react to demonic power. Because in the end, she’s still drawing from the same well but in a different way.

Guts being polite as usual, lmao.

It’s interesting that Flora seems to know she’s going to die soon. I know that you could interpret it as her knowing that she is just getting too old and weak, but considering she tells Schierke that they’ll meet again, which refers to the Casca’s Mindscape sequence 30+ volumes later, I assume she has some kind of plug into the future, albeit in a limited way. Skull Knight seems to be similar.

After this Guts says, “It’ll protect against that” with the image of his beast self raping/killing Casca. Which makes me think this scene fuels people’s assertion that he was possessed when he did that, which he wasn’t. But I do think the possessions prior kind of kicked him in that direction and he was unable to extricate himself from it until he was made violently aware of his own dark side and how dangerous it was.

Okay so now we’re going to talk worldbuilding, its my favorite thing.

Bringing this back.

Okay so, I’m just going to break this down into a form I can better reference, rofl.

The Astral plane is, as Griffith would say, where they become one – the afterlife, and also the home of supernatural forces and beings. When someone senses/believes in something that is technically part of the astral world hard enough the thing becomes visible in the physical world, which is why elves have become recognized in the physical world. Later we’ll find out that the astral world’s... stuff used to be a much greater part of the physical world but started disappearing from the physical realm as people drifted from the perspectives that allowed them to be perceived, which continues right up until Griffith brings them back together.

Then the Realm of Idea (the graphic misnames it) is... it kind of reminds me of the concept of the Root in the Fate franchise (and also several actual world religions nevermind that though). The origin of all existence, the blueprint of reality.

And subrealms:

Physical Realm – where people usually are.

Interstice – a shallow level of the Astral Plane that mostly just looks like the physical realm. This is where Guts and Casca are because of the brand. Also where things like ghosts come from when they haven’t realized or accepted their deaths and headed back to the Vortex.

Nexus – a deeper part of the Astral and the space opened by the Behelit/location of the Sacrifice ceremonies. This is interesting to me because Miura once said that in order to injure an astral body, the person trying to injure them has to be in the astral plane as well. Which brings to mind the arguments over whether the Godhand can actually be hurt – people say they must be mortal to some degree because they protect their bodies – e.g Void deflects Skull Knight’s blow and the only time Femto ever defends himself vs Guts is during the BSM arc when the Slug Count uses the behelit to bring the Godhand out. But it makes sense that they defend themselves during Eclipses or Sacrifice ceremonies because during those moments, the entire area is sucked into the Nexus, which means they can be injured in ways they cant be if they’re just walking around on the physical world. Thus, for example, the impossibility of injuring Griffith in the physical world.

The Vortex – A deeper level of the Astral Plane where the megapowers are, e.g. the Godhand, the Element Kings etc. The sea god from the pirate arc, like that.

The Abyss – where the Idea of Evil hangs out.

This page is often cited as proof that there is a heaven and hell, but Flora really is just engaging in conjecture. That said, it does seem like there are places that are more or less pleasant within the astral plane, at least on lower levels like the Interstice, so I suppose its possible that they exist in the Vortex as well. This is one of the areas where I’m the most conflicted because there’s a pretty strong indication that post-death humans lose their sense of self and join the sea of souls where no one has any individuality or identity, but there’s also this comment about karma and such. Plus we do know that some humans do not just melt into the vortex because Flora herself instead became a Daimon although we don’t find that out for a long time.

Right now, I’m sort of operating with the idea that post-death a person retains a sense of self for a certain period of time, during which their experience is dictated by their karma, before they eventually break apart and join the sea. But that’s just a fan wank it’s really an unknown at this time.

This comment is interesting because it brings to mind Schierke’s later comment that the four elemental kings are the same beings that are named in scripture as the four cardinal angels of God. As I said earlier, all religions are one religion.

What did I say the other day? Even witches refer to Griffith as an angel. This kind of burns my bum because people focus on the demon thing very strongly and tend to either ignore the other side of them or suggest that they’re not really angels but are pretending to be – I think Guts even suggests that at one point. But Guts is biased and Flora would know better than he does.

Not for nothing but Guts is being stupid here. Not too surprising, but like what is he going to do, summon them and launch himself at them? They’d crush him like a bug without moving. Come on, man.

But in all seriousness, Guts’ absolute faith in his ability to find a way to win is one of my favorite things about him, but it’s also what leads to him having a mental breakdown when he cant hit Griffith later. I don’t think he’s ever considered the possibility that there’s something he can’t fight his way through.

This also confirms, btw, that Guts hasn’t given up on revenge just put it on hold until he can get Casca to Elfhelm. Otherwise why would he still be trying to figure out how to get at the Godhand? It’s also the best indication that he isn’t only angry at Griffith but at the entire group of them. I assume it’s not dissimilar to the way Skull Knight runs straight at Void if he’s there, but he wont turn down an opportunity to throw a blow at any of them.

So, one of the things that fuels speculation that Casca might be destined to use that Behelit is that... when it comes out, and they’re talking about it, she seems to be drawn to it for no real reason, right, like she just comes walking toward them making interested noises and Farnese has to pull her away.

The obvious counter would be that she comes out because Flora is about to talk about her and Guts’ mission to protect her, but she didn’t really need to be there for that – people talk about Casca and Guts’ relationship or his intentions with regards to her without her being there all the time.

It’s interesting. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but given Miura’s ways it wouldn’t surprise me if it did.

He didn’t listen when Godot told him this before, no way he’s listening now.

But really she doesn’t seem to be trying to tell him to give it up, which doesn’t surprise me – she’s a friend of Skull Knight’s, so I’m sure she understands how pointless arguing with someone in this situation can be.

“The fate associated with it rests in the hands of its master who sent it.” I assume that’s IoE but it does highlight the fact that Slan seemed to be able to affect its reaction/availability to Guts.

When I try to figure out who the behelit might belong to, though, I admit I have a kind of difficult time imagining who it could be aside from Casca or Guts. If it’s Guts, then I would expect it’s there for him to ultimately resist, thus finally breaking the chains of fate that he’s been fighting but accidentally getting further caught in for years. If it’s Casca, on the other hand, I think that ends badly for her. There’s a small chance that such an option could appear for her to give her the chance to turn it down as well, but I’m not sure I believe that she has it in her.

I also can’t think of anyone else that the behelit would really fit in a way that advances the story/moves toward the fulfillment of the narrative promise, really. So I still think the best bet is Casca, though that doesn’t guarantee it obviously. If it’s Guts, on the other hand... well, I guess he’s craving his power right now, isn’t he? I mean in current chapters.

I feel you, Guts.

But no, I gather she means that they’re the servants of the Idea of Evil (unnamed but still), and that they’re mysteries because humans can’t go to where they are, even in astral form, thus they remain mysterious.

Okay translation rant. I wanted to make sure that “If he is the Hawk of Darkness, then he is dreadful” was actually accurate, which it is KIND OF?

What Schierke is saying is

あの者が黙示録に記された五番目の御使いが受肉��た姿。。。闇の鷹なのだとしたら者恐るべきことです。

That person is the [incarnated form] of the fifth angel written down in the [Book of Revelation]. If (he’s) the Hawk of Darkness he is.... [dreadful]

So a couple of things. I’m showing dictionary definitions because it’s good to show receipts, lmao.

-The word translated as incarnation is specifically the incarnation of Christ.

-The word used for revelation is specifically the Book of Revelation, though it also means Apocalypse – Utena fans may remember it:

-Finally, the phrase translated here as “dreadful”,

So it does mean dreadful but also fearsome, formidable, like a dangerous or difficult adversary.

So okay one thing I notice about Miura is that he liked to use ambiguous phrasing – the phrase translated as “you’re the only one who made me forget my dream” for example, also means “you’re the only one who let me forget my dream.” Similarly, the word translated as “evil” in a lot of places in Berserk also means “magic” or a supernatural force of some kind, and sometimes it makes more sense that they’d mean magic but the translation still says evil.

I’ll be honest, I think he did it on purpose. Because for example a sentence that means both “let me forget” and “made me forget” reflects the conflict within Griffith himself about Guts’ impact on him and how it affected his goals, which were both burdensome and meant to be his most important thing. So in the discussion of which way it was intended to be read, my main thought is “both.”

How this relates to this sentence is just this: It’s translated as dreadful which isn’t inaccurate but in the context of the discussion Schierke and Flora are having, Schierke isn’t talking about how awful and deplorable the fifth angel is, she’s talking about how Guts has to be crazy to go against him because he’s absurdly powerful. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think her statement is meant to evoke how terrifying he is, either. But even so, and this isn’t the translator’s fault because English doesn’t work the same way Japanese does, but... I can’t help thinking that just saying “dreadful” makes it sound like she’s just saying “he��s awful and deplorable” rather than that he’s a frightening opponent or person. And that doesn’t make sense because Schierke was previously shown to be sort of unsure about whether he would be the savior or (something) else.

It’s also interesting that he doesn’t name some random prophecy but rather the biblical Book of Revelation. And that he didn’t have Schierke refer to Griffith with a normal “incarnation” or “bodied form” or whatever – because there are words for that – but rather as specifically the incarnation of Christ. It does make it very clear (VERY clear) that Griffith here is envisioned as the Berserk equivalent of a Christ-figure as predicted by the Berserk equivalent of the Bible. The fact that he’s served by, you know, apostles should also be a clue about this, but I know people like to suggest he’s an antichrist instead, but I mean...

He’s both isn’t he? I mean I know I’ve talked about this enough but it does make sense that in a world where God is the Idea of Evil, the Christ-equivalent would be a more complicated figure as well.

I just think it’s interesting like... Miura uses a lot of Catholic concepts and imagery in Berserk, but they don’t always mean the same thing as they do in the real-world religion. People often try to read Berserk with I guess real world Christianity in mind, and I get it because of the very obvious parallels, but I do think it’s a bit of a trap.

The thing I wonder a lot – although I guess it’s more like I think about it a lot than that I wonder about it – is the relationship between Skull Knight and Flora. Later I’ll ponder on it in greater depth but it’s interesting to me that even after seeing what happened to Gaiseric she still has this belief that fate can be countered. It’s very different than, say, Skull Knight who kind of lets slip during the death of Elfhelm that fate often cannot be overcome, but that people fight anyway because it’s just the nature of humanity to fight fate (and lose).

Flora’s view echoes Guts’ though, from the Conviction arc when he said he doesn’t believe in causality because he and Casca were meant to die but didn’t. On the other hand... is that really true? Like, Zodd said death would come for him – a death he cannot escape. But Skull Knight was the one who implied to him (right after he left the Hawks) that he could survive it. And if you think about it, given that the demon child/moonkid became Griffith’s vessel there’s a good argument that Casca was always meant to survive, too.

So. I know a lot of people take Flora’s word as gospel, but a lot of characters say things that contradict so they can’t all be right. Though I do think there’s a decent argument that she’s the least biased and her view possibly reflects the attitude that Miura himself brought to the table since he did say he wanted there to be hope in the story, as well.

This has nothing to do with anything but the sylph thing kind of freaks me out. I don’t think I could wear clothing that’s coated in little “living” things, eep.

And honestly, wtf is wrong with Puck? HOW DOES HE NOT KNOW THIS, HE’S FROM ELFHELM.

I have such conflicted feelings about how Farnese and Casca just got some silver shirts (and a silver knife). Because the thing is, I understand that Casca uh probably can’t trusted with a weapon right now, and that Farnese isn’t a fighter at all. But I still feel like some kind of, say, elementally empowered weapon would be helpful for Farnese at least, considering how often these two get kidnapped or spirited away or trapped in dangerous situations.

I wonder what the axe did.

This lead in to the thing where his sword is kind of magical from fighting magical things is pretty interesting to me because... for years the theory was that his sword could hurt Griffith because of that. And it seemed like a decent theory but of course is proven completely wrong on every level. Misdirection! That is, unless the “he cut a hair off of Griffith’s head” theory turns out to be true but that seems increasingly unlikely since it hasn’t come up at all.

By having the brand, Guts and Casca are basically just walking around in the afterlife all the time – at least the edges of it, so I guess they ended up in tune with the dead even though they themselves didn’t literally die. It seems the Apostles also kind of walk that line, which makes sense given their connection to “hell” or whatever. It’s kind of wild to think about the house they’re hanging around in not technically existing in a physical sense.

I mean in fairness he only left her behind once, it was just a really long time.

Anyway, this just reminds me of the time I got that Ask from someone kind of ranting about how Guts has to be with Casca because she’s the only reason he’s still human, which was kind of stupid. Don’t get me wrong, I recognize that protecting her is a strong motivating factor for him, but obviously he was already fighting to remain human for the entire series and I also think... the path he has chosen as a defender and as someone who no longer throws his connections away is as much a part of his continued humanity as Casca herself, specifically – that’s why the Beast always tells him to ditch the whole crew not just Casca.

Also, as I recall, Flora had some knowledge that she was going to be killed soon which... I imagine made it somewhat relieving for her to not have to explain why Casca couldn’t stay there. Also...

It lends this bit a poignancy.

Okay so... I often wonder about the specifics of Flora and Skull Knight’s relationship... and to be more specific whether her role in his life was similar to Schierke’s role in Guts’ life. Was she his spiritual anchor before he got eaten by the darkness? If so then you could say she failed, which Schierke is also in danger of doing in current canon since Guts is losing his shit.

There are so many things that make me sad about Miura’s passing. There’s the obvious human element in itself, but there’s also things like how he talked about doing an arc of the Skull Knight’s history, and how on the DVD for the memorial edition ova, a note came up saying things he says may no longer be applicable. I mean for obvious reasons. But does that mean we’ll never know the deal? I hope not. I want to know what Flora did that got her exiled from Elfhelm and what Skull Knight’s goal really is... I mean this is whiny because everyone has the same concerns and thoughts, but you know, just thinking.

And there it is – bringing to question whether Guts is actually acting in free will or not. Because what I get from this is that Flora asks him why he’s trying to get Guts to do certain things or go certain places, and whether it’s because he feels sympathetic or for some selfish reason, and Skull Knight is basically like, even if I didn’t personally lead him around, he may well be led by causality anyway.

It reminds me of the guidebook noting that Skull Knight seemed to be trying to lead Guts in a certain direction.

I think Skull Knight is ultimately meant to be a cautionary tale for Guts, like... this is what he becomes if he doesn’t let go of his anger and choose his connections and humanity instead... which is not what Gaiseric did back in the day. This does kind of make me wonder to what degree I just talk myself around thinking Guts primarily relies on Casca for humanity though, because one major difference between them seems to be that Casca didn’t die but Skull Knight’s wife or whoever that was did.

Although I guess that’s odd too because Dannan seems to be his ex in some way that isn’t wholly literal.

And this is a really interesting bit for me, because it’s Flora continuing/finishing her comment earlier about God giving them fate – the fate called encounters. So when she tells Schierke God gives us fate and we humans choose it, you can suppose that she isn’t so much talking about Schierke being destined to do such and such but rather she’s talking about Schierke having the option to accept the opportunity to know and involve herself in this story or not.

Also, a final little thought-break – the way the witches here talk about God is interesting to me because it does seem like they buy into the “religion” of the world in a way you wouldn’t necessarily expect, right, like Flora directly references fate being sent by God. They also refer to the God Hand as angels, and later Schierke will explain that the element kings are basically biblical archangels by another name.

And that goes back to all religions are one religion – the same elements with different names and viewed through different prisms but nonetheless the same beings. I kind of think of the different religions within Berserk’s world as... looking at something from one angle vs another angle. Like if you stand in front of something it looks one way and you can only see the front and part of the sides, whereas if you stand to the side you see its side and only part of its front and back, etc. Point being, it’s still the same thing, it’s just that different perspectives or belief systems “see” and name different parts of it.

That thought leads me down some interesting rabbit holes with Berserk though.

Anyway, next up, trolls.

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randomwriteronline · 11 months

Text

Warriors wasn’t exactly well known for being incospicuous or particularly quiet in his movements.

He had a tendency of stomping his feet a lot - walking like he thought he was running, ending up too heavy on the soles of his boots, which were thankfully less likely to fall apart than his old ones were. It was one of many not necessarily healthy quirks he hoped to unlearn now that the war was dealt with and there was no longer a constant need to sprint from one place to the other.

But if he wanted, and if he put a lot of thought into it, he could will himself into a perfectly relaxed stride; and, if he put even more effort into it, he could even become quieter than a mouse in a barn.

Still, he knew better than to scare a hare by getting the jump on it from the back, so he opted to knock gently on the wooden table instead.

Ravio turned around without actually looking, used to the signal enough that he didn’t even flinch upon hearing it - though he did startle a bit when the face that greeted him turned out to be indeed fairly similar to his own, but not as perfectly identical as he’d naturally assumed it would have been.

“The well-off relative!” he squeaked with a small smile, seeming a bit nervous.

Warriors grinned back: “The very same,” he replied with a wave that was more of a flourish and half a curtsie.

His relaxed appearance eased the tension in the merchant’s shoulders as well as he chuckled a little bit, playing with one of his long sleeves more out of habit than to dispell his nervousness. The captain eyed the tic fondly, and the familiar motion gave him just enough courage to try his luck.

If it was too early for it... Well, he hoped he would at least still manage to make a good first impression.

“I couldn’t help but notice your hood earlier,” he said simply, leaning a little on one side as if that way his antsyness would just seep out of his foot: “It has a peculiar design, doesn’t it?”

“My...? Oh, yes!” Ravio remembered. His fingers grabbed the portion of cloth immediately, without thinking, but for some reason he stopped himself short of pulling it over his face, fingertips playing with the gold trimmed edges. “Made it myself, see?, as we all used to do in my family. We’re pretty good tinkerers, my aunt would say way back when, but even better tailors, eh...”

“Might I see it?”

“Pardon?”

“The design on it,” Warriors repeated: “Might I see it again? I didn’t get a good look at it back then, but it seemed beautifully embroidered.”

Maybe to comply, maybe to hide a slight rush of blush on otherwise almost squalidly pale cheeks, the other man blinked once or twice and then pulled the hood right back up, hiding away his entire head beneath the rabbit face as though it had never even existed in the first place.

Knowing full well he was being seen, the captain made a big show of holding his chin in his hand and tilting his head thoughtfully.

“My,” he started off with, “I was right, that is an awfully impressive work of art. Look at those golden details around the eyes - lovely colors for them, by the way, you’ve got quite a lot of taste - and those teeth even, not to mention the ears! If I’d only heard of rabbits and never seen any I’d mistake you for one.”

The weird compliment worked, as a little laugh accompanied delighted fingers drumming against the purple fabric.

Warriors smiled fondly; then suddenly he sighed, shaking his head: “Ah, but I’ll admit, it gives me the weirdest kind of feeling - like I’ve seen a hood made just like that before, like I know it well, you know? A sort of deja-vù...”

“Well that just ain’t possible,” the merchant replied quickly as his shoulders straightened in pride: “This one’s a Ravio original! Trademarked and all! Only one you’ll ever find around! Save for any mediocre imitations you might’ve had some sleazy retailers sell you for the real thing, that is, but I’d bet those pale in comparison to the genuine article as I’m sure you can see for yourself here right before you.”

“It’s certainly very distinctive,” the captain agreed, subtly stepping forward.

If Ravio noticed that, he made no comment on it - perhaps too busy patting himself on the back as he goaded: “Of course! Gives my brand a real distinct image, don’t it? Really makes it clear you’re dealing with the one and only! Sorta like, uh, that scarf of yours, if... If I may.”

Even despite those unmoving embroidered eyes covering any semblance of expression Warriors had the distinctive feeling that the man behind them was getting a little redder beneath the shade of his hood, as he could parse from a small nervous movement of his fingers as the hero smiled wider and absentmindedly passed his thumb over the blue fabric gently settled around his shoulders and neck.

“One of a kind too?” the Lorian asked, not without a certain cautious fear.

“You’d be correct,” the other replied.

The amount of fidgeting with purple fabric increased steadily as a cascade of rambling left the hidden mouth: “Ah, yes, yes, I imagined - I mean, with that red trim over there at the end and that emblem on it, clearly something made for royalty or the like, see?, and the quality - no way some imitator could make something like that without putting in way too much effort or doing just a plain bad job, right? But, uh, ah - well ain’t that awkward now, I think you’ve put a bug in my ear ‘cause now I’m thinking I’ve seen that before, like you’ve seen my hood, but, eh! Eh, but that can’t be now, can it! Eh, nope, no, cannot be like that - but it really does look like I’ve seen it, I swear! Maybe a little dirtier, some splotches on it, some grass and, and, well and stuff that maybe I shouldn’t be talking about in a kitchen, ah ah, you understand? But it’s, it really... It really does, uhm... It... Really... Looks... Like...”

By the time he hushed, Warriors was standing a mere few inches away from him, the not particularly large difference in height between them magnified slightly by the merchant’s slouch as he’d closed in on his own shoulders a little, looking up at the grin on the rosy face. It would have definitely seemed like an intimidating scene, and by all means it was; but the tilt of the hodded head was more expectant than scared, and the little nervous smile peeking from beneath the gold trim of the fabric didn’t come from any fear.

In one swift motion the hero pushed back the hood, cupped the other’s face in his hands as though it would have escaped him, and landed a chaste kiss on his cheek with as much passion as possible.

Surprise tore a laugh out of Ravio and had his arms wrap in a bout of euphoria around the captain’s shoulders, bending his neck under the pressure of a mouth smacking into him over and his back over a hug that ensnared his waist tight enough that he could have been lifted at any moment.

Then he recollected himself, and pushed the other’s face away with a nervous chuckle: “Hey, hey - this is a kitchen!”

“Oh please,” Warriors huffed playfully, rolling his eyes, “There’s eight more people in this house including your ‘landlord’ and you think I’ll lay you for the first time in the middle of the kitchen?”

Instead of answering, Ravio decided to slip right through his grasp and scuttle away between his divaricated legs, making him stumble (since he’d put his entire weight onto the merchant) and grab onto the counter just a moment before his face collided with it in a less than graceful manner.

“Maybe!”

“Come on, I’m better than that!”

An airy laugh came from behind him with a quick squeezing hug: “You are,” the merchant reassured him, though he was very much still smirking dastardly. “And besides it wouldn’t be your style - I mean for cryin’ out loud, you took your sweet time tellin’ me you were who I thought you were right now, didn’t you?”

“What!” the captain argued back, snapping around to face him with a wide smile: “I couldn’t well just kiss you on the mouth out of nowhere!”

“I can promise you I wouldn’t have complained.”

“Time’s a fickle thing, you know that - what if you hadn’t met me yet? You would’ve thought me a maniac!”

“But I hadn’t ever seen you before I ended up on that battlefield, Lily-of-the-Valley,” Ravio reminded him as he tried to grab his nose between his index and middle fingers, “So we sure couldn’t’ve met earlier than that, don’t you think?”

Warriors lifted his hands in defeat, gently swatting the merchant’s own away in the process: “You got me there.”

“Course I did,” the other gloated: “I’m the brains and brawn after all.”

The flick of a wrist had his hood right back on his head: “Harr harr,” he heard an amused fond grin say, “And even if it were true, pray tell what I’d be left with?”

Without missing a beat, Ravio tapped his nose: “Beauty, of course!”

He counted the little snort as a victory.

“Don’t push it,” he was still playfully reprimanded.

The merchant chuckled in response, shoulders jumping a little with his voice. His gaze grew unbearably soft for a long, interminable second; then, with a sharp sigh, he allowed his forehead to fall forward so that it would on the taller man’s chest, and with his eyes closed he savored the solid reality of that contact together with the faint press of a hug.

He took a deep breath, catching a scent much more pleasant than the one he’d grown to expect to cling to that scarf, that tunic, and exhaled: “I missed you.”

Warriors leaned enough to press a kiss to his dark hair: “I missed you too.”

The rabbit in his grasp hummed very, very softly.

All of this - that voice, the pressure on his sternum, the quiet between them - was distinctly, sweetly familiar.

He wished it didn’t bring back memories of laying on the ground, both soiled with sweat, dirt, blood and varied other disgusting elements after the horrid symphony of clanging steel had finally quieted down across the fields, breathing heavily, trying to stifle the adrenaline making his heart explode at least enough to properly feel the body breathing heavily as it laid almost draped across his chest; but it also brought back the silence of peaceful nights, of trying to fall asleep to one another’s heartbeats, and he focused on that, drowning the worse recollections in those hushed breaths in the dark.

His musings were interrupted as he felt the other wriggle in his loose grasp ever so slightly, and he undid the fastening of his arms around him to let him pull back in case he needed it.

Ravio waited a little before doing so, maybe to try and commit this moment to memory better than all the other ones he had alowed to simply slip by, as one can never know when the chance to encounter a lover from a different time once more might happen - a thought that hadn’t struck him until only after they had bid each other a barely adequate goodbye for what could have very likely been the last time they ever saw one another again.

“I’ve been, ah--” he stammered a moment as he pushed himself back up on his own feet, “I was tryin’ to, ah, find a way back to you, actually, y’know? I mean, I found one for here, so, there oughta be one for there, don’t you think? It’s - ah, ahah! It’s a weird situation, my whole...”

His hand made an incredibly vague motion in the air, pointing all at once to everything that might have been both in the room and outside of it.

The information made Warriors furrow his brows slightly and tilt his head not unlike a dog that hadn’t understood the command: “I thought you were pretty homesick, back then,” he muttered, a little confused.

“I was! Goddesses know I was!” the other was quick to reply: “And I was so glad to be back home even though I had... A lot of stuff to handle still like you know, my house being a mess and everything else, but I was happy! I swear! But, eh, I’m here now, right? And it’s ‘cause I... I got homesick for here too, if you can believe that? And so I came over because I missed this sun and this house and, and then I got homesick for your place too, or maybe, maybe just for you, I think, I didn’t really - sorry if it’s rude, but I don’t got really good memories of, you know, er... But, but the point is - I keep gettin’ longin’ for all these different places all at once and so I end up makin’ myself scramble all over all the time, it’s - it’s a mess, is what it is, but I can’t help it! I don’t know how! I can’t - I can’t choose, I guess? I want t’ be in Lorule, and also here, and also with you, and it just sends me runnin’ in circles over an’ over an’ over an’--”

"Hey,” a quiet voice reached him together with a hand on his shoulder, and his rambling came to a halt.

He sunk in the collar of his robe: “Sorry,” he peeped. “Got carried away.”

“I missed you so much.”

There was no follow-up.

Ravio realized his vacant stare had been fixed a little above the captain’s belt buckle for a while now, and raised his head. Link was looking at him without any real feeling, his expression set on a near total, mildly relaxed neutrality - which made the vague air of melancholy bubbling in his eyes a little harder to spot for someone who might’ve notbeen looking for it.

Without really thinking, the Lorian put a hand to one of the somewhat squallid sienna-colored cheeks. He felt it sink into his palm.

“You thought of comin’ to see me?”

Warriors just nodded.

He laughed gently: “Well, I oughta made your job real hard then, huh?”

The other shrugged with a small smile: “Didn’t do much about it, actually,” he replied, a little sheepish. “I got cold feet about asking. Since...”

“Hm,” now it was the merchant’s turn to nod, “I get it.”

He gently squished the captain’s face in his hands a little tighter, causing him to huff through his nose as he attempted a smirk. Emboldened by the power of being able to do whatever he wanted without repercussions, Ravio swayed the blond head left and right with his fingers as his soft grimace turned into a more mischievous grin.

He only stopped once he heard a muffled ‘watch it’ that made him giggle a little as he raised his arms away from the captain in a show of innocence.

Dusting his palms on his robe as if to better hide the tender playfulness of the gesture (though it was an action not at all motivated embarrassment, but merely yet another of his many nervous quirks) his voice suddenly turned casual, as if he were a humble innkeeper addressing a customer: “So how long will you be stayin’ over?”

Warriors shrugged again with a weary sigh: “I’ve told you, time is a fickle thing,” he answered, “Who knows where and when we’ll be told to leave.”

“But you do stay around a while, right?”

“That we do.”

“So maybe we could work together, no? To, ah - figure out, maybe, kinda, a way to make this... Not, the last time we meet?”

Green eyes gleamed at him hopefully.

“Because-” Ravio added quickly as he waved his hands about to try and mask his eager antsiness, “-If there was a way, y’know, to come see you anytime, or even just some specific times, but surely, for certain, without fault... Y’know. I’d hop right on it.”

The captain smiled.

“I would too.”

A bucktoothed grin shined right at him: “So we should get to work, eh?”

“I reckon we should.”

#tloz #linked universe #hyrule warriors #warriors lu #ravio #raviolink #random writing #did you know that hw link has a skin with yellow undertones?#my boy is out there lookin like a cheese sculpture #anyways remember my post about hyrule warriors flavored raviolink bc this is that #also wars still feels hh abt the sorceress of time due to You Know (her wanting to get in his pants and almost destroying the world abt it)#which is why he never went to her and asked if she could let him see him bf again #sorry for the abrupt ending i dont know how to continue it :P

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mariana-oconnor · 1 year

Text

A Case of Identity pt 1

If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on

Sherlock Holmes Peter Pan crossover! Also this sentence starts with them being normal size and then halfway through suddenly they're able to 'gently remove ... roofs'? It's a sweet little scene, though.

We have in our police reports realism pushed to its extreme limits, and yet the result is, it must be confessed, neither fascinating nor artistic.

Weird to see here the dichotomy of Holmes the romantic and Watson the realist. So often depictions of Holmes have him being so factual and without whimsy, and yet the start of this story is the opposite. It's Holmes who has the 'flight of fancy' and finds the fascination in life, and Watson who is arguing that real life is common and without interest.

There is half a column of print, but I know without reading it that it is all perfectly familiar to me. There is, of course, the other woman, the drink, the push, the blow, the bruise, the sympathetic sister or landlady. The crudest of writers could invent nothing more crude.

Also Watson not showing any empathy here. 'Oh, domestic violence is so run-of-the-mill, it's so dull.' He's very jaded in this story. On one hand, I agree with him that there's no delight or artistry in domestic violence, on the other hand, he comes off as a bit callous here.

he had drifted into the habit of winding up every meal by taking out his false teeth and hurling them at his wife, which, you will allow, is not an action likely to occur to the imagination of the average story-teller.

...I can't remember this story. It may be one of the ones I have not read before. But this made me blink and do a double take. Seriously? His false teeth? That's so oddly specific. Also, taking a moment for ACD to pat himself on the back there. I see what you're doing, sir.

He held out his snuffbox of old gold, with a great amethyst in the centre of the lid. Its splendour was in such contrast to his homely ways and simple life that I could not help commenting upon it. "Ah," said he, "I forgot that I had not seen you for some weeks. It is a little souvenir from the King of Bohemia in return for my assistance in the case of the Irene Adler papers."

Oh hai, Irene!

Weird that Holmes is displaying all the bling he got from a man he doesn't respect and didn't want any reward from.

Oscillation upon the pavement always means an affaire de coeur.

Well, that certainly is a sentence.

When a woman has been seriously wronged by a man she no longer oscillates

I have never seen the word 'oscillate' used this much outside of a science textbook.

Sherlock Holmes welcomed her with the easy courtesy for which he was remarkable

This is fascinating from the perspective of someone who has seen so may adaptations. 'easy courtesy for which he was remarkable' this isn't just a one time chance of Holmes being courteous. Watson himself finds Holmes' manner remarkable and to specify that it comes easily. Don't get me wrong, I love a lot of different Holmes adaptations, even the ones where he's rude, but this sentence makes it so clear that Holmes is polite and that it at least appears to come naturally to him.

for it made me angry to see the easy way in which Mr Windibank—that is, my father—took it all

I had a 'why do you refer to your father as Mr Windibank?' moment, then read the next few sentences and went 'oh'. Stepfamilies are complicated. Honestly, this bit reads like it could be an excerpt from an AITA post. Which leads to me thinking of modern day Sherlock hanging about on Reddit and asking really random questions before telling people that clearly the meaning of the cat hair on the third cushion is that OP's life is in imminent danger and they must at once leave the house and block their best friend on all social media.

I believe that a single lady can get on very nicely upon an income of about 60 pounds.

And the illusion of modernity is shattered. I bloody well wish. Hey inflation calculator, what's that in real money?

£6,033.44

(I put this around 1892, but that was my estimate based on when the other stories have been set. I might be out by a few years)

Yeah... I know she's living at home, but that's Holmes' estimate for any single woman, not only those being supported by their parents.

so they have the use of the money just while I am staying with them. Of course, that is only just for the time. Mr Windibank draws my interest every quarter and pays it over to mother

Hello motive! Fancy seeing you here. I do not trust Mr Windibank at all, for all I may find his name amusing to say and read. This coupled with his insistence that nothing is wrong is very fishy. Mmhm. I am getting a distinct whiff of 'greedy, thieving stepfather' here with distinct notes of 'manipulative arsehole'.

Mr Windibank did not wish us to go. He never did wish us to go anywhere. He would get quite mad if I wanted so much as to join a Sunday-school treat. But this time I was set on going, and I would go; for what right had he to prevent?

Please add 'controlling' to the list above, forthwith. Guy's a massive dick. Good for you, Miss Mary Sutherland for calling him out on it.

And he said that I had nothing fit to wear, when I had my purple plush that I had never so much as taken out of the drawer.

Anyone else getting Cinderella vibes from this line? I'm surprised he didn't accidentally ruin the dress as well, or spill a bowl of rice into the cinders of the fire and make her pick them all up.

"I suppose," said Holmes, "that when Mr Windibank came back from France he was very annoyed at your having gone to the ball."

"Oh, well, he was very good about it. He laughed, I remember, and shrugged his shoulders, and said there was no use denying anything to a woman, for she would have her way."

I hate this guy. I really do. ACD was very good at writing men I loathe even when they haven't appeared in person.

Oh, and I remember this story now, btw. It's all coming back to me.

He wouldn't have any visitors if he could help it, and he used to say that a woman should be happy in her own family circle.

Abuse tactics really haven't ever changed, have they. The flags were as red in the 1890s as they are in the 2020s. Ugh. I hope this guy dies in a shipwreck too. Fingers crossed.

The fact that I keep reading the 'gasfitters' ball' as the 'gaslighters' ball' feels very fitting.

"What office?" "That's the worst of it, Mr Holmes, I don't know." "Where did he live, then?" "He slept on the premises." "And you don't know his address?" "No—except that it was Leadenhall Street."

In the immortal words of Gytha Ogg: Always get the young man's name and address. (And never trust a dog with orange eyebrows)

Mr Hosmer Angel came to the house again and proposed that we should marry before father came back. He was in dreadful earnest and made me swear, with my hands on the Testament, that whatever happened I would always be true to him.

Not suspicious at all. Absolutely normal behaviour. You should definitely swear on your holy book of choice to always be true to people 'whatever happens'. This is entirely rational and not worrying at all. Not a bit.

The flags, they are scarlet.

Mother was all in his favor from the first and was even fonder of him than I was. Then, when they talked of marrying within the week, I began to ask about father; but they both said never to mind about father, but just to tell him afterwards, and mother said she would make it all right with him.

Not remembering all the details, but knowing the general gist of this story, this part actually makes me feel a bit sick. Does the mother know what's going on? I don't remember. If so, I think Miss Mary Sutherland needs to take her £100 a year and go on a world tour. Honestly, she should do that anyway, just... nausea.

"Oh, no, sir! He was too good and kind to leave me so. Why, all the morning he was saying to me that, whatever happened, I was to be true; and that even if something quite unforeseen occurred to separate us, I was always to remember that I was pledged to him, and that he would claim his pledge sooner or later. It seemed strange talk for a wedding-morning, but what has happened since gives a meaning to it."

Mary, Mary, Mary... no. Just no. This is not good or kind. This is weird and suspicious and controlling. I'm sure your wedding dress is lovely, but I cannot see it because all the red flags are in the way.

Above all, try to let Mr Hosmer Angel vanish from your memory, as he has done from your life.

Holmes giving excellent advice here. The trash took itself out.

"You are very kind, Mr Holmes, but I cannot do that. I shall be true to Hosmer. He shall find me ready when he comes back."

Oh Mary. I'm so sorry. You really should take the advice.

This absolutely could be written as a reddit post, btw.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #A Case of Identity

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year

Text

Little Lamb

Octopath Traveler II Yandere Temenos x (afab) reader

I just love this sassy cleric and know I'm the only one writing this pairing so I'll share it with the world.

All under the cut if this isn't your sort of thing! Thinking of making a side-blog for these darker things? I'm a weird hybrid fluff/yandere fan, apparently.

As soon as you hear the key in the lock, you try and bite back your sob in fear, but he always notices. "Oh, little lamb, not more tears." His voice echoes around the four stone walls, making you feel even more trapped than you already are.

You don't reply - you can't - he never leaves without tightening the folded habit – the very one that would be atop your head if you’d made it to your pledge - back around your mouth, making sure it sits snug. He says it's to ensure you honour a vow of silence until his return, but it doesn’t make sense. Who would you even speak to? No-one can hear you down here, he's assured you of that - though that didn’t stop you trying the first few days you were brought here, screaming and tugging at the manacles keeping your hands above your head, chained to the wall.. It seems even the Gods have abandoned you now.

You had been sent to Flamechurch to begin your studies ahead of taking your vow as a Sister of the Sacred Flame. He had been one of the first to greet you as you arrived, though you had to apologise for your ignorance of not having heard of him before, but he seemed to enjoy that. Everyone said it was such an honour that the Temenos Mistral had taken a personal interest in your spiritual journey. You liked him too - he was intelligent, quick-witted and made you question everything deeper than you ever had before, but, in the end, the lively debates only solidified your conviction to dedicate your life to the Church.

You were ready to take your vows, your senior Sisters in agreement, but Temenos insisted you hold off a little longer. You listened, of course you listened, you lapped up every bit of wisdom he bestowed upon you. He was so well esteemed and regarded by his peers and, even though something didn’t feel quite right deep down, surely if he was advising you to delay it would be nothing but an insult to disregard his advice and he must have a reason.

Now his reason is as clear as crystal and you wished you’d listened to your gut.

He wants to keep you all for himself.

He'd slipped something in the wine. Temenos often had a glass at your evening discussions and you only ever had a small glass where you partook, sometimes just a sip or two, so you knew something was off when your head started to swim mid-conversation. He had a condescending grin on his face when you tried to stumble up to your feet, crashing down to your knees as your limbs refused to co-operate. His boots entered your blurred field of vision before his hand crept around the back of your neck. "There, there, lamb, I've got you..."

You'd woken up in this room - a store room deep beneath the Church where no-one came. It seemed he'd been setting it up in preparation for you, at least you hoped you were the first. It comprised of a bed, a table, an old sink and a section of the room covered by a screen, which he deemed the wash closet - it was a repurposed butter churn barrel of all things. He’d acquired two, so he can swap them in and out.

Besides, it wasn’t like you had the freedom to walk around - your hands chained to a hook above you when he wasn't there. When he was there, he'd release you - allowing you to relieve and wash yourself in privacy at least. Or as much as a wash you could manage with a large jug, bucket and cloth.

He'd bring fresh gowns too - white, pristine. He'd taken your old clothes away, so it was dress how he wanted or go without.

It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been down here. There’s no sunrise or sunset, just periods of sleep and two visits a day from your captor. He lights a long-burning candle on his morning visit, extinguishes it when he leaves at night. What did he tell the Sisters, the congregation – that you just decided it wasn’t for you and you’d gone home? They wouldn’t investigate – they’d take his word as gospel. Is he going to kill you?

Temenos has a bag in hand, as always - he brings you breakfast and supper. If you refused to eat, and you had a couple of times, he had his methods to get you to comply. He was never opposed to using his staff to get his message across, get what he wanted. He said he didn't enjoy hurting you, you were forcing his hand, it was the only way you’d learn. He’d only let you experience the pain for a little while because he would cast healing hand. Repeat.

He sets the bag down upon the table and walks over to you. You flinch back but there's nowhere to go, your back already pressed up against the wall as close as you can go, willing it to swallow you up. He smiles pitifully at you, leaning down besides you and wipes away some stray tears with his thumb.

"This is just a test of your faith, my lamb. You haven't forgotten our lessons already, have you?" You haven’t forgotten your lessons, but you still don’t understand what he means. What his justification is for keeping you down here.

He fingers slip into the knot at the back of your head and he loosens it, tugging the gag down before shaking it back out into the habit it should be, hanging it on the bedframe. Your mouth is so dry.

"Are you thirsty?"

You nod, but that’s wrong. His fingers are under your chin now, tilting your head up to him.

"Use your words, little lamb." He chides. It's confusing - demands for silence, demands for speech.

"Yes," your voice is hoarse.

"Well, maybe if you didn't cry so much you wouldn't be." He chides.

You don’t know what to say to that. What does he want? What’s the point of this game? He tsks and goes over to the sink, filling up a goblet of water for you. He returns and sits down on the edge of the bed, holds it up your lips, as he always does. It’s humiliating, but you’re so thirsty and you drink it down greedily.

Once you drain the goblet dry, he pulls it away and smiles. “Better?”

You nod. “Thank you,” you add before he can tell you off.

“You are very welcome, my dear.” He takes the goblet back to the table and returns to your side, withdrawing the key from his tunic pocket and unlocks your wrists from the shackles at last. Your arms always feel weird at first when they’re let down after being held above your head for so long.

He takes your left arm and inspects your wrist, before moving on to the right arm.. At first, you’d pulled and pulled at the restraints hoping they’d give, but all you’d achieve was rubbing the skin raw and bloody. Temenos would chastise you, before healing with his stave. You never made any progress – if anything, your persistent efforts to pull yourself free of the restraints day after day only made you grow weaker. He fed you, yes, but it wasn’t much. Enough to keep starvation at bay, but the hunger still led you feeling weak, tired… subdued, compliant.

“No abrasions again. Good - you’re learning.”

Learning what? You want to spit out, but it won’t end well for you so you hold your tongue.

“Do you need to relieve yourself, lamb?”

That’s the most embarrassing thing of all, you think – that he makes you fulfil your bodily functions in that butter churn. A butter churn which he empties, apparently as a labour of his love.

You always say yes, though. It gets you a few moments away from his piercing gaze.

“Please.”

“Go on, then,” he nods. “Then we can have supper and start our lesson, hm?”

“Yes, Temenos.” You agree meekly, shuffling down the bed, away from him, before you stand, though your legs are wobbly from lack of use. You don’t want his hands on you though, so you brace yourself on the wall for a moment, gaining your balance, and go behind the blasted screen.

Supper is always the same affair – bread and grapes. Temenos never eats with you, probably permits himself a more varied diet, but he just watches. His hands clasped on the table, his staff leaning against his thigh, barely in sight, but enough to remind you it’s there and the power he wields.

You eat every last morsel he gives you, never really sure when he might remove the privilege. He could dictate that you’re going to fast, after all.

When you are finished, you take a glug of water from the goblet, place your hands in your lap and thank him. That’s important too. He reminds you to be grateful.

“My pleasure. Now, I thought we’d change things up a little tonight. You’ve been so well-behaved these past few days and you deserve a reward. You were so full of questions at first, weren’t you, little lamb?” That was true. He’d wanted to continue on your philosophical discussions, but you hadn’t played ball, demanding, screaming, questioning why he’d done this to you. He’d remained calm, as always, simply pushing the habit back in your mouth, silencing you, and talked. Temenos did always love the sound of his own voice.

“I was.” You agree.

“Do you still have those questions for me?”

You’re not sure of the answer he wants to this one. Usually, it’s best to agree with whatever he says, but it could be a trick. However, he said there was a reward…

“Well, do you?” He sounds bored now - you’ve kept him waiting too long.

“Yes.”

He smirks, leaving you wondering for a few moments if that was the wrong answer. “Then I am prepared to entertain a few. Question one is…?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I thought that’d be obvious by now,” He chides. “To keep you safe, of course.”

“Safe from who?” The only person you wish you could be safe from was him.

“Everyone. You are such a sweet, naïve lamb – I couldn’t allow the wolves to feast on you. You’re too dear to me.”

“But you…” you swallow, “Surely you could’ve kept me safe in the Church, Temenos. We would’ve been working alongside each other, as we were.”

“They were going to send you away from me.” His eyes darkened. “I simply could not allow that to happen.”

“Who was?”

“The Church had decided your new post for when you’d taken your vows. You were going to be sent to Stormhail,” he says it as if it leaves a foul taste in his mouth, “to work at the Sacred Guard Headquarters. I could not allow that to happen. I could not keep you safe there.”

“That’s why you tried to dissuade me from taking the vows, so I wouldn’t go?”

He nods. “See, you do understand. But I knew I could only keep you from taking them for so long. It gave me enough time to set up this humble abode for you though.” He gestures around your prison. “I know you think my methods are harsh and unnecessary, but I lost a precious member of my flock before and I won’t allow it to happen again. Especially not to you, my little lamb.”

“Arms up.” He commands, perhaps a little softer than usual. You used to put up more of a fight, but it’s pointless. He always gets his way. So you comply, allow him to clasp the metal rings around your wrists – again. This time, though, he slackens the chains a little, allowing the tops of your arms to rest on the pillow rather than be strung up high above you. He knows you notice and smiles. “Obedience is rewarded and you’ve been such a good girl recently.”

Supper threatens to make a reappearance.

You expect him to gag you next, but he sits down on the edge of the bed, and clasps the side of your face with an open palm, forcing you to look at him.

“What’s on your mind, my dear?”

“Am I to stay here forever?” Your voice cracks.

He keeps a hold of your face as he leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, ignoring your question.

“Now,” he tugs the habit from the bedframe and drapes it across his lap, folding it neatly length-wise into his desired purpose, readying it. “I want you to think a little about what we’ve discussed this evening, and then get some sleep. Open.”

You open your mouth immediately. He’d held your nose before when you hadn’t, waited until you’d gasped for air to stuff the dreaded thing in.

He tucks it neatly between your teeth, the heavy fabric pressing your tongue down. He moves your hair out of the way of the knot almost lovingly - if this act could be loving - before checking over his handiwork.

“May the Sacred Flame guide you.” He gets to his feet, blowing out the candle on the table as he passes, leaving you in darkness.

“Sweet dreams, little lamb.” You hear the door open and close, the lock clunking shut as always.

And you cry.

#ghostdogwrites #octopath traveler 2 #octopath temenos #temenos mistral x reader #temenos mistral x you #yandere temenos mistral #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #octopath traveler 2 fanfic

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dyns33 · 2 years

Text

Private life

I wanted to do another Javi G. story but it’s not as good as I wanted... I can’t focus at all, the ending is so rush.

Javi Gutierrez was not happy.

Not happy at all.

Everything finally seemed to be going well in his life for some time. After the death of his father, he had to take over the family business, and even if he had been prepared for it, he had had some difficulty managing the empire he had inherited.

He had to put his cousin in his place, showing him clearly that they could work together, but that he was the boss. Show partners, customers, enemies, that you shouldn't joke with him. Manage the budget, purchases, bodyguards.

That didn't leave much room for recreation. Oh, he threw parties, but the people he met weren't really that interesting, or they were trying to use him. His previous love affairs hadn't lasted long, and Javi had tried to convince himself that it didn't matter, that he was happy, alone in his big house, watching movies.

Then he had met Y/N.

Completely by accident. While he was walking around town, to clear his head before an important meeting, she had asked him for directions. The poor girl had heard of the region, she wanted to visit it, but she was a little lost.

She wasn't part of the same world as him at all, she didn't know who he was, what his activities were. She was beautiful, funny, charming. Almost immediately, Javi had known that she was the woman of his life.

He had cancelled his appointment to serve as her guide, then he had invited her to the restaurant. They had spent the rest of the week together, and after many tears, kisses, pleas, he had managed to convince her to stay.

Of course, Y/N was not a prisoner. Javi understood that family and friends were important. She sometimes went to visit them, and they were all welcome in their house.

It had been almost a year now, a full year without the slightest problem, perfect, with his sweet lover.

And that had to be taken from him.

Frankly, he hadn't deserved this. Maybe he wasn't perfect, maybe his job wasn't ideal, but he wasn't bad. And Y/N had nothing to do with it.

He had explained it well to everyone, when he could no longer hide their relationship. If anyone dared approach her, they would bitterly regret it.

Despite this, he had taken all his precautions, assigning several bodyguards to Y/N. To reassure her, he had told her that his family was well known here, that some people might try to attack him, and therefore her. But she had no reason to be afraid, he would never let anything bad happen to her.

Not for a single second had he considered what was about to happen.

Since she wasn't locked up, and he wanted her to be totally happy, Y/N sometimes went out for walks without him. Nothing weird ever happened during her walks, and the guards who accompanied her made sure that no one tried to take her from him. It would have been better if no one ever spoke to her, but Y/N was polite and sociable, she needed to interact with others, and therefore it was not possible.

When told that a woman had been talking for a while with his sweetheart, Javi didn't panic. It hadn't seemed abnormal. Even less dangerous.

Y/N hadn't spoken to him about it, indicating that it hadn't really marked her. But she had wanted to go out the next day, which was not her habit. Javi could have wondered, but he was madly in love, he wanted her to feel good more than anything, so he didn't stop her.

When she returned from her walk, the bodyguards said that everything had gone well, except that she had spent a lot of time in the bathroom. He wondered if she was sick. She had a funny expression when he found her in the bedroom, looking at him like she didn't know him, but he didn't care about that, putting his hand on her forehead to see if she had a fever and asking her if she was feeling well.

"... Yes."

"Are you sure ? You can tell me if you have a problem. I can fetch a doctor. I'll make you some tea, and a bath, and I'll massage your feet."

"That's nice, Javi, but I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"Oh mi amor, let's go to bed. I'll rock you."

She let him, but she still seemed absent, a little distant. In the night, Javi was awakened by what sounded like little sobs, and Y/N clinging to him. He thought she had had a nightmare and was surprised to find that she wasn't sleeping.

"What's going on ?"

"You would tell me, if there was anything important." she whispered into his neck. "You would tell me."

"Of course, querida. It's okay, don't worry. I'm here."

"... You really have nothing to tell me ?"

Javi didn't understand at all what she was talking about, because everything was going perfectly well in his life, especially since they were together. His business was going perfectly, he had more and more customers, no worries with his enemies, nothing could disturb their happiness.

He didn't make the connection to the woman who had spoken to her and the time she had spent in the bathroom, as she fell asleep against him again.

Fucking CIA.

They had been trying to pin him down for years and they had never found anything against him.

So those motherfuckers decided to take his Y/N from him.

They had approached her innocently, whispering to her that they knew things about him, and that if she wanted to know more, she had to come back to see them the next day. She had then seen reports, photos, heard recordings. She had cried a lot, not knowing what to think.

But all that, Javi did not know. And he still wasn't worried when she went out again a few days later. He probably should have, seeing her sad look, with the long kiss she gave him.

A goodbye kiss.

He had never cried so much as when his henchmen came home alone, saying they didn't know where Y/N was. She had disappeared suddenly, without them being able to do anything.

First he thought of a kidnapping. He contacted everyone for help. Then his cousin brought him the terrible news.

Y/N had not been taken. She was gone. The CIA had exfiltrated her from the country.

"Sorry, primo. It wasn't the right one after all."

"Shut up ! I don't understand. Why ? Why ?!"

Well, Javi could understand why. When Lucas scoffed that she was just a profiteer, he broke his nose.

It was perfectly normal that Y/N left. Even though she loved him and trusted him, he had lied to her, he had hidden many things from her. It was normal that all these revelations had disturbed her, and when she had given him a chance to confess everything, he had not taken it.

For several weeks, Javi was alone in his room, drinking and watching movies. His favourite activity. Before.

It wasn't the same without Y/N. It had no more flavor, no more sense.

He missed her laugh. Her little startles in front of the frightening scenes. The long discussions they had. Her head resting on his shoulder, her hand holding his.

He had to find her. Talk to her. At least to apologize and explain everything to her.

The CIA should never have involved her in these professional matters, she had nothing to do with it.

It was easier than expected to locate her.

Not to scare her, Javi phoned her first. It was hard for you to hear her voice after all this time, without being able to see her.

" Mi querida ! It's me !"

"... Javi ?"

"Yes ! Wait ! Don't be afraid, don't hang up. I'm so sorry, mi amor. I can't live without you, mi cielo, mi vida. I miss you so much !"

"... I miss you too." she said sincerely. "But what you're doing..."

"You don't need to worry about that. You don't need to know. It's details. You can be happy, with me, at home, safe."

"They say you killed a lot of people. That you killed your previous girlfriends."

"Well, first of all, I didn't kill a lot of people. It's very rare that I kill someone, it's often my men who do it. And for my exes, yes, some are dead, but they deserved it, they threatened me. You are different. You would never do this to me, and I would never hurt you. You know that, right ? I love you so much, come home. Te quiero mucho. Por favor, ven a casa."

That didn't really seem to reassure her. Javi didn't understand why. He had been perfectly honest. From now on, there would be no more secrets between them and they could be happy as before.

If Y/N agreed to listen to him.

He could try to understand that she had doubts. He had lied to her before, so she was suspicious, it was normal, clever. But if she gave him a chance to prove to her that he was sincere, that he loved her to death, then there would be no more problem.

"And... if you stop ?" she asked shyly, with her soft voice. "I'm not asking you to go to the authorities. I don't want you to go to jail. But you could stop and we could forget about all this, have a normal life."

"But our life is already normal and wonderful, hermosa !"

"Javi... You are a criminal. A gang leader, who sells drugs, weapons, who threatens, who injures, who kills..."

"Not when I'm with you. I separate my work from my private life, something the CIA needs to understand."

"I... I don't know if I want to accept this. I'm sorry."

"But I can't stop. It's the family legacy and without protection, everyone will try to kill me." he reasoned. "We really can just do like we used to. I beg you. I'm not sleeping anymore, I'm not eating anymore... I'm not watching movies anymore !"

This time it seemed to touch her. Y/N knew what movies meant to him. But she apologized again, crying, saying it wasn't a good idea. She was being watched anyway, she couldn't come back.

Javi was even more angry after that. Not only had the CIA taken his Y/N, they were preventing him from coming back.

That didn't mean they could stop him from going after her. He would love to see them try.

He called his cousin, all his henchmen and partners, to get inside the horrible place where they had locked up his poor Y/N, and when he got her back, they would watch Paddington 2, huddled in their bed, without any hassle.

#the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez #javi g #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez imagine

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