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ronearoundblindly · 16 days

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Lease

best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers

*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k

Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.

At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.

He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.

Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.

One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”

A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.

“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“

“I can move in with you.”

Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.

“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”

You remain silent and smirking.

“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”

“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”

Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.

Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.

There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.

He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.

Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.

One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.

“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”

Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.

Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.

It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.

Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.

“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”

He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.

“Uh, nooooo.”

Sam’s face falls. “What?”

You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.

Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”

“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.

“Did not,” Steve barks.

“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”

That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”

“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”

The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”

“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”

You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.

Twiddling your fork around, you think.

“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”

Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.

“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”

You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He’s quiet for a while.

“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.

That was a ‘yes.’

Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.

You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.

He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.

He’s in way too deep.

What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.

He loves being comfortable with you.

The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.

Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.

He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.

“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”

The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.

Steve blinks.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”

“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”

“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.

“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”

You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.

He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.

You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.

You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”

Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.

: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.

Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.

: Talk about it when I get home?

: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.

Steve gets it, but he hates it.

: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?

: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.

Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.

He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.

Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.

And he bungles it.

“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts.

“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”

“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.

“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”

“Sure,” he slurs.

“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”

“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.

Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.

“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.

He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.

He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.

Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.

Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.

The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”

Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.

“Yeah.”

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

They're soooo cute!!!!!!

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x female reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #hurt/comfort

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after-witch · 1 year

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Love is the Honey [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Title: Love is the Honey [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: You were kidnapped by Chrollo Lucilfer, and truth be told, things aren’t exactly terrible. You don’t have to worry about bills or paying for groceries or appeasing a shitty boss. It’s come at the price of your freedom, but it might be worth it. There’s only one thing you can’t accept, and it’s the one thing Chrollo won’t stop trying.

word count: 5417

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader

Outside, the city lights are all whites and reds and greens, twinkling and glistening amidst the darkness of the night sky. But from up here, you hear nothing of the bustling night outside.

No sounds of half drunk friends giggling with arms linked, traveling from bar to restaurant and back to bar again. No car horns laid upon by impatient drivers, eager to get home after a long day at work. No quarrels, no compliments, no queries about what you’re doing later tonight.

Nothing at all.

Up here, in this hotel room, there is only you and the quiet hum of the air conditioner--and of course, Chrollo. Better known as your kidnapper, who is (at least for the moment) blissfully quiet. Minus the sounds of turning book pages, but those hardly register. Not when you’re absorbed in your own book, and not when you take a break and stare out the window at the city below.

Far, far below. He tends to book rooms as high as he can get them. You’ve wondered if he does this on purpose, a deterrent, since you can’t hope to escape out the window. Or if he simply prefers to be up and above everyone, literally and figuratively. But maybe you’re overthinking it.

Maybe the luxurious rooms he prefers to book tend to be on the higher levels. Above all the noise of the city, of the restaurant on the first floor, of the laundry that churns out fresh sheets and towels, washing away dirt and fluids and whatever else someone has left behind in a hotel room.

Did the workers ever wonder about the people behind those dirty towels, those rumpled sheets? Did a bellboy ever see you, your tired expression, and think, Hm, I wonder if she’s all right? Did the maid who turned over your hotel room see the stacks of books piled up near the window, the blanket and pillow stuffed on the chair, and wonder: But aren’t they a couple? Why would she be sleeping on the chair and not the bed?

Truth be told, there’s only two things that infuriate you about your current situation. One, that Chrollo repeatedly tries to put the moves on you. And two, that he insists on trying to make you sleep with him in the same bed. Keyword being, of course: trying. You’ve yet to give in.

The rest of it? The rest of the life that came with Chrollo, you can accept. It’s almost cathartic. Sure, you don’t have freedom of movement, of choice, of life.

But you have freedom from so much else.

Freedom from having to work day and night just to make enough money to pay your bills, and sometimes you still got behind on them. Freedom from worrying about whether or not the funny sound your sink made was an issue with the plumbing that would drain your savings and rack up more debt. Freedom from your friend’s drama and your mother’s exacting expectations that you could never meet.

Besides, the lifestyle he forced you into gave you opportunities you’d never have otherwise. You usually stayed in high-end places, fancy hotels and condos; there was the occasional ramshackle safe house, but they were few and far between. They were always just the right temperature with just the right amenities, keeping you safe and comfortable.

You got to do whatever you wanted, within reason. You could read as many books as you could get your hands on; you could ask for crafts and hobbies, and he typically indulged in.

You ate good food every night and never wondered where your next meal would come from, or debated skipping meals to save money. You’ve tried dishes that you only read about in books or saw in films about rich people. Sure, some of it you couldn’t pronounce, and there was an air of superiority in the way Chrollo explained them to you. The taste, however, was completely worth the pompous comments.

And Chrollo himself could be tolerable. Sometimes. He was always up for a discussion or debate. You didn’t mind the traps he set, the way he tried to worm his way into your psyche at unsuspecting moments. Because what did that matter, when you knew you weren’t likely to get away from him unless he happened to die. Your life was this now, so who cared, really, if Chrollo wanted to psychoanalyze you because you wanted pizza for breakfast three days in a row?

Sometimes you wondered what it said about society that you felt genuinely relieved to be kidnapped away from it all. The financial obligations. The social stress. All of it replaced with near constant indulgence in your personal whims and your mind’s lovely but strange ability to relax despite what should have been a high-stress kidnapping scenario.

But… the damn bed situation.

That’s one thing Chrollo refuses to do--accommodate your desire to sleep separately in any reasonable way. You’ve given up asking him to request two beds, you’ve even stopped asking if you would call room service and have them bring up a cot for the floor. But it would be nice if he would at least book a room with a sofa, and not simply a chair, which no matter how expensive the room is, is never comfortable enough for sleeping.

He won’t, though. He’s nothing if not persistent in his romantic pursuit of you, outlined in little touches, the way he likes to lean in close to speak with you, voice hushed and husky and flirtatious. He’s offered to kiss you, flat-out, sometimes. You refused. He continues to offer, continues to touch, continues to want.

He’s stubborn, in that respect.

But so are you.

Which is why you don’t put up with it, don’t indulge in it, and ignore it as best you can.

He may have kidnapped you. He may have taken away your freedom, but he wasn’t going to force you into a relationship. That was the one thing he wouldn’t take from you.

On that, you stood firm.

You just hoped the ground would never crack underneath the weight of his expectations.

“Dearest,” Chrollo says, and you don’t bother hiding the way you roll your eyes. It’s a pet name for a lover, and you are not a lover.

“Mm,” you respond, non-committal. You keep your eyes laser-focused on the coloring page in front of you. It was something they sold at a gas station gift shop, one of those books with complex lines and fanciful illustrations, aimed at adults with nothing better to do. Which, it so happens, turned out to fit you just fine.

There’s a pause. And then the shift of his clothing as he gets up from the queen sized bed and pulls out the chair across from you. He leans his elbows on the tiny side table, and you’re forced to scoot your book onto your lap to avoid it getting creased. Jerk.

You flit your eyes up to him.

“What’s up?”

At this, he exhales through his nose, almost a snort. Not quite as inelegant, you suppose.

“You’ve been behaving rather well these past few weeks.” He considers. “Months.” He considers, again, this time tilting his head in what appears to be an exceptionally practiced gesture. “You’ve always behaved well, actually, haven’t you? From the start. From the moment you woke up in my…” He seems to reach for a word. “In my care.”

You purse your lips.

You remember the first day well.

You were walking home from work, feet aching, mind thinking of a million obligations you had to get done before the week was out. That’s when you heard footsteps from behind you.

You immediately froze. The footsteps stopped when you did. Slowly, you turned around, and there was a man standing there. An attractive man with a wrap around his forehead. When he saw your stricken expression, he smiled.

“I apologize,” the man said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You pressed your lips down. “It’s fine.” Your heart raced, because you weren’t stupid, and strange men coming up to you at night was iffy at best and dangerous at worst. You were going to cross the street and head into the closest diner, just to be safe. Or that’s what you planned to do, before it went sour.

Before you could do anything, there was a terrible pinch in your neck and you saw his arm pull away just slowly enough to spot the needle in his hand. Everything went hot and blurry and when you woke up, you were in a hotel room bed with silk sheets underneath you and Chrollo Lucilfer standing above you.

“Good morning,” he said, and smiled.

Had it really been months since you were taken? You don’t exactly keep track of time, unless you’re eager to catch a certain movie on TV or you’re tracking the release date of a new book. You remember when you had to keep track of time for other reasons--making sure you got just enough sleep to avoid collapsing, calculating your work hours so that they would cover the bills, stretching your food budget thin enough to last the month.

Now, all you have to worry about is convincing Chrollo to head out to the bookstore on release date to get you what you want.

“Okay,” you say, after he’s been waiting long enough. “I don’t know why you’re bringing this up.”

You feel like a teenager being praised by their parents. The praise he gives is unwanted, confusing. You don’t know what to do with it, so you stare down at the book in your lap, and let your mind wander to more fun things. Maybe you should have used a darker green for the leaves--

“I’m curious as to why you’ve behaved this way.”

You shrug your shoulders without looking up. You’d like to get back to coloring, but if you tell him that, then he really won’t leave you alone.

“You haven’t tried to escape,” he continues, leaning in closer. There’s mint on his breath. He sometimes crunches them, and the sound irritates you. When you tell him so, he seems to do it more, but you genuinely can’t decide if he does it on purpose to piss you off or if he’s that damn addicted to the little candies and their breath-pleasing effect.

“You don’t try to ask anyone for help. You don’t put up a fuss when we move from place to place.” One of his hands reaches forward and rests on top of yours. When you move to pull away, he interlocks his fingers with yours. His skin is warm and the intimate contact is unpleasant.

It’s this gesture that irritates you, finally, and you tug on his hand. He doesn’t relent and you huff.

“So what? Do you want me to act like that? Do you want me to start screaming at the hotel concierge, “Help, I’ve been kidnapped!’?”

He chuckles. “There wouldn’t be a point, dear. No one would--”

“I know,” you interrupt. “No one would be able to help me. That’s not the point. I don’t ask anyone for help because it would be pointless. I don’t try to run because it would be pointless.” The edge of the coloring book suddenly becomes very interesting, and you bend the corner back and forth as you talk. “So why not take what’s good here and run with it? Unless you want me to start clawing at you every time you put your fingers near my thigh.” You let yourself grin, however empty it may look. “Actually, that sounds like a good idea.”

“You don’t fight me,” he muses, more to himself than to you. “But you do have a mouth on you.” His lips twitch, almost an imperceptible annoyed gesture, before his expression smooths back out into familiar calmness. But you saw it, and it makes something in your gut feel tight. He normally doesn’t care if you get snarky, but what if…?

His grip on your hand relaxes and he lets you pull your fingers away.

“You’re being annoying, and I’m going to color over here.” If your words are a little slower than usual, you can’t blame yourself for feeling nervous. But the half-smile you get in return is familiar territory, and the anxiety in your gut eases up.

You sigh through your nose and scoot your chair backwards, taking your book to the room’s large windowsill and pulling yourself onto that instead.

“Can we get takeout tonight?” You ask, without looking up. The light by the window is nicer for coloring, you decide, if a little bit more uncomfortable for a long coloring session.

“We’re going to cook tonight.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching you, still sitting at the table. He leans his cheek against the palm of his hand. “The grocery delivery came this morning.”

You pout, all worries from the odd conversation gone. What little storm clouds that do show up in your life are, almost always, easily pushed away. “I really wanted takeout from the place we got the other day. Can’t we do groceries tomorrow?”

”No. I don’t want the meat to spoil.” His voice is firm, and he doesn’t respond to your pouting or the whittling, vaguely cloying tone you’ve taken.

You let your body sag in defeat. Oh, well.

It’s one of the few instances in which you know you can’t, and shouldn’t, push him. Chrollo has always been very particular about food. Or food waste, you suppose, is what he’s most particular about.

You learned your lesson on that months ago, when he insisted you finish the last bite of a meal you’d ordered, admittedly, out of spite. The stomach ache was not worth whatever triumph you imagined you’d get from sticking something in his figurative craw.

You take up your colored pencils again and start to fill in yet another empty space.

“Fine,” you mutter, determined not to let it spoil your otherwise relaxing evening. “But go easy on the garlic this time. It makes your breath stink.”

“Duly noted,” he murmurs. And there’s something almost wistful in his tone that catches your chest for a moment. But you push it away.

Doesn’t matter, nope. What matters is the coloring page in front of you, the relaxing motions of gradually filling in each space with your desired color, the ability to focus on nothing but this activity and not have to worry about anything outside the walls surrounding you.

You don’t look up.

Days blend into weeks blend into the blurry, vague--mostly comfortable--existence that is your life.

Or it used to be comfortable. Lately, very lately, Chrollo has become a bit stranger. It’s almost as if he’s on edge about something, which naturally puts you on edge. If he has something to worry about, then it must be serious, indeed.

But it’s bothersome. Because not only has he been behaving as if something big is on the horizon, he’s gotten a lot more insistent on his desire for something more with you. Maybe his nervousness is making him less shy about approaching you and your veneer of coolness towards any affectionate gestures.

This morning, when you stepped out of the shower, the chair you’d pushed up against the window, also known as your bed for the past two weeks, was gone. Not moved, but simply gone. You didn’t bother asking him where it went. The cool smile on his face as he pulled his change of clothes from the hotel drawer was answer enough.

Maybe you should have yelled at him. But thoughts of his glances lately, the tentative way he’d begun to talk with you, the gut-roiling fear of something happening, stopped you.

And that’s why you’re here, now, sitting in the same bed as Chrollo Lucilfer despite swearing to yourself that you’d do everything in your power to avoid this moment.

That’s why you’re enjoying the moment so fully right now, despite his proximity to you. He’s just… sitting, for once. Sitting and reading, or pretending well enough to fool you. Doesn’t matter, as long as he’s not trying to make a move.

But of course, he speaks, and breaks the peace.

“Are you enjoying the book, love?”

You turn the page.

“Not your love. But yes.”

You glance over and see him set his own book down on the side table. No bookmark in sight. You wonder if he was actually reading it or if he was just pretending tonight. You’re not sure which would annoy you more.

It doesn’t matter, because while you’re considering how you’re going to put off going to sleep for as long as possible, you feel the unmistakable sensation of his hand on your thigh. Your muscles tense immediately, and your brain seems to simultaneously.

“Perhaps,” he says, shifting closer to you on the bed, “you can take a break from your book.”

“I’d rather not,” you reply, biting, and try to shift your thigh away. But his tender touch becomes a firm grip on the meat of your thigh. You make a strangled noise and he leans in, voice irritating in your ear.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

Your book gets set on the bed, half-open, and you swat at his hand. He doesn’t budge.

So you try something else.

“What’s most beautiful about me?” You glance up at the mirror on the other side of the wall, above the faux fireplace. “The sweatpants that I’ve worn two days in a row, or that piece of broccoli stuck in my teeth from dinner?” He finally did let you get takeout, after the groceries were used up. “Thanks for that, by the way.” It’s not entirely sarcastic.

“You’re welcome,” he says, voice all silk. You wonder, briefly, if he’s ever entranced anyone with that soft, low tone that should drip charisma but instead makes you want to poke him in the eye. Maybe it would have entranced you, if he didn’t take you forcibly. But you’ve sworn to hold onto the one thing you can keep--your consent--and you’ll be damned if you shrug that off like you have everything else he’s taken.

He brings his other hand up to trace the top of your ear and you flinch.

“Stop.” You sound for all the world like you’re fighting with a sibling who has decided to irritate you deliberately on a very long car ride. “You’re being--” Irritating? Pushy? Creepy? A little of all three? “You’re in my space and I don’t like it,” is what you settle for.

It takes a few moments. But Chrollo does shift himself away from you, slowly removing his hand from your thigh, resting back in his previous position which was close but not unbearably so.

“You’re quite stubborn.” It’s said in a quiet tone that makes you want to think; it makes you want to wonder why he’s being so much more insistent lately, why he got rid of your chair when it’s something he’s indulged (not without complaints, mind you) for months.

You pick up your book with an overly dramatic, obvious gesture, hoping it doesn’t look as false as it feels.

“Well,” you tell him primly, resolving to get through the night with your dignity intact. “So are you.”

To say that you were surprised the rest of the night passed uneventfully would be an understatement. It took you hours to fall asleep, because you were sure--absolutely sure--that Chrollo would take advantage of the nighttime proximity to slide his hands around your waist or kiss your neck or something else unwanted.

But he didn’t. If anything, he was quieter than normal. There were no honey-laden queries before you went to sleep, his usual attempts to drag something personal out of you; all he did was bid you goodnight and rest his eyes.

It was enough to make your stomach churn.

And here you are, picking at breakfast. You weren’t in the mood for eggs--because of how restless you felt? You weren’t sure--but that’s what he gave you, and it’s what you were going to eat this morning.

The breakfast table is unusually quiet, almost taking on a veneer of domesticity, until he speaks up.

“I’m taking you to meet someone today.” You look up, genuinely shocked. He continues, ignoring the wary, uncertain expression on your face. “Several people, in fact.”

The runny yolk clinging to your fork seems suddenly interesting. It makes a little pattern when you scrape the fork against the bottom of your plate, dragging gooey orange with it.

Your voice is thick with sarcasm, a tone you often take with him when the subject gets uncomfortable.

“Soo… is this a ‘I’m taking you to meet my parents’ type of thing? Because I don't think t hey’ll--”

“No,” he says, interrupting. Something in his clipped tone makes you immediately clam up. There might as well be a red sign above his head, flashing, DANGER, DANGER, DO NOT ENTER. So you drop it.

“Companions,” he continues, more calm and routine now. He begins to butter your toast for you (a gesture he insists upon, and which you hate) as he speaks, and you shove a piece of warm egg white in your mouth. “The closest ones I’ve had.” He pauses. “Except for you, of course, dearest.” He says this last bit to soothe your ego, as if you were offended--you weren’t.

You eye the toast he drops on your plate and pick it up. Maybe if you eat faster, you can get some reading time in before you go… wherever it is he’s taking you. Thinking about it too much makes you feel a little sick.

“What’s the occasion, anyway?” The toast is warm and perfectly buttered and delicious. It annoys you, that he knows how to butter your toast so well. It’s such a stupid, small thing--but it’s grating, especially right now, with things so out of sorts. “You don’t normally let other people near me.”

He smiles, and you could swear it’s wistful. “No, not normally. This is different. It’s customary to introduce our companions once they’re… settled.”

You don’t like how he says the word settled. You don’t like how he says the words companions, either, for that matter. You’re about to tell him as such, when he speaks up, asking a question that raises your alertness even higher.

“Are you going to be good today?”

Your lip quirks up, mouth still filled with toast, when you answer. This morning, the sass feels forced.

“Am I ever bad?”

He hums, and sips his coffee. “That depends on the perspective, doesn’t it?”

You don’t respond, and the two of you eat in silence that doesn’t quite feel companionable. There’s something in the air. Thick and buzzy. You can’t shake off the feeling of dread that’s building inside you, and it doesn't get any better when Chrollo finishes his meal and stands to go clean up the dishes.

Or when he leans over the table and places his hand on your hand. His favorite gesture. Your fingers twitch but you resist the urge to smack him away today. It feels like the wrong move right now.

“Really,” Chrollo says, adding your name with a seriousness that you’ve rarely heard. “Do behave yourself today.”

You swallow the toast and pretend the knot in your stomach is from the eggs.

Suddenly, Chrollo seems far more normal than you’ve ever viewed him before. Far more safe. And it’s this newfound perspective that keeps you almost clinging to his side.

You forget the names of the people in front of you as soon as Chrollo introduces them. You hope it doesn’t matter . You’ll probably forget their faces, too, if you don’t see them often enough. But you won’t forget the absolute power that radiates from them, even standing here simply and casually. You feel this with Chrollo, too, but never to this degree. Is it because Chrollo turns himself down for you, or because there’s only one of him?

After, it’s time to introduce you. Chrollo has the decency to keep holding your hand--you don’t want to be separate from him for once, at this moment--as he nudges you forward just enough. He tells them your name--you wonder if they care, and then doubt it.

“And it goes without saying,” he continues, some sort of soft pride in his tone, “that they’re my--”

Christ, you’re scared of the people in front of you, and maybe it’s the terror that pushes forward that impulsive, intrusive desire to keep Chrollo from telling his companions that you’re dating or in a relationship or whatever he had in mind.

“We’re roommates,” you blurt out, loud, obtrusive. “Just roommates.”

You’re proud of yourself for saying this, as you are every time you manage to keep the only thing you have left intact. Proud and relieved and feeling high from the adrenaline of it all.

But oh, the way Chrollo grips your hand tighter. Oh, the way the expressions on the people in front of you shift in varying degrees, eyebrows raised, expressions disbelieving. One of them, impossibly huge with a matching mane of hair, snorts out a laugh that he smothers when Chrollo inclines his head just a fraction toward him.

Oh, you have fucked up. You have fucked up in a way that makes your stomach drop, makes your hand begin to tremble, and not just because of Chrollo’s increasingly uncomfortable grip on your hand.

The lock clicks behind you and it seems to resound louder than ever before. Was the hotel room always so chilly? Maybe the heat wasn’t working.

Or maybe it was the fact that Chrollo said not a single word on the ride home, or on the way into the hotel, or in the elevator on the ride up to your room. You thought he might have calmed down on the way home, but no such luck. On the way, you tried to think

You drop your coat on the bed and resolve to hop in the shower, to get away from him for a bit, to hopefully let things get back to normal. But he says your name, almost too quiet to hear, and you slowly turn to face him.

“Chrollo?” Your throat feels tight and you swallow against it.

He’s staring down at his hand. At his finger. Then he looks up at you.

You’re about to make an absurd joke about a wedding ring, anything to ease the tension, but the deepened look in his gaze stops you. Deep and dark and almost frenzied. Your heart suddenly feels like it’s leaping. You pissed him off, you really did, and he didn’t have to say a thing for you to know it.

“Roommates.”

He takes a step toward you. You take a step back. He takes a step forward. And you go back, until you’re against a wall. The shell you’ve made around yourself, carefully laid with quips and smirks and endless distractions, cracks with each of his footsteps.

”Listen,” you say, voice light and wobbling. Maybe you can save this. Maybe. “About tonight, I know I shouldn’t have said--”

“Be quiet,” he says, firm, unrelenting. You shouldn’t push him, and your stomach drops to the floor as he presses himself against you.

In a moment, he’s not just against you--but kissing you. It’s not a nice kiss, nothing soft or sweet. There’s frenzy in it, desperation, frustration. You don’t know if lips can bruise but if they do, yours surely will. You keep your teeth clenched but it doesn’t stop him, licking and biting at your lips as your stomach flips horribly.

It’s too much. You don’t want this, not like this, not him, not here--

After far too long, he slowly pulls himself away from you. The dark expression in his eyes has only deepened.

“You’ve really never seen it,” he says, breath warm against your cheek. He sounds as if he’s finally realized something important. And he has.

“What?” You blink, you shake your head, you want to get away. You turn your head away from him, anything to stop seeing that look in his eyes, but his hand grips your chin and turns it back. “I’ve never seen what?”

“The red thread,” he murmurs, the words soft against your lips.

“What are you talking about?” You don’t hide your confusion, voice cracking and airy.

The hand holding your chin relents and he trails his thumb over your sore lips before pulling away entirely.

“The red thread,” he tells you, and instead of anger in his voice there is only a deep indulgence. It scares you far more than the chilly atmosphere in the car ride back. “Why do you think I chose you, hm?” His voice drops lower and the words are too close, too intimate, too much. “We’re soul mates.”

Your brain scrambles, but not a single snarky word comes to mind. You weren’t… completely oblivious to the concept of soul mates. You knew people who swore they could see a connection between them and someone else. Red threads, sure, and sometimes other things. Names etched on skin. Symbolic tattoos. But you had never seen anything like that on your body.

Was there really a red thread connecting the two of you? It would explain a lot of things. Like why he took you. Like why he put up with you.

“I don’t want to be soul mates.” You don’t mind it, the freedom from all those burdens. You will pay the price of captivity if it means release from all that, but this last thing? Your ability to be yourself, to be separate from him in some way? You won’t give that up. Not willingly. Never.

He only chuckles, short and dark, at your words. There’s something bitter in it.

“It doesn’t matter what you want.” His hand comes up to caress your cheek again, and the unwanted touch seems to remind you of everything he’s taken from you. You’re starting to feel sick. “The thread that connects us was pre-destined. You could hate me, dislike me, all you want and…”

“I don’t hate you,” you interrupt, blunt, blurting. Intrusive thoughts win out again.

He raises his eyebrows and his eyes widen and in that, there’s a fraction of vulnerability. Like a tiny fissure.

“No? Then why do you persist in refusing me?”

Looking at him is hard, but this time, he lets you turn your head away, dropping his hands to his sides. You’re stuck right in front of him, regardless. It’s the least he could do.

“I don’t like you… like that.” You bite on the inside of your cheek. “I mean, well. You kidnapped me. I don’t think that’s unreasonable to say.” You glance at him, but he doesn’t look angry. Merely interested.

You take a deep breath, and a confessional sigh escapes your throat. “But I can live with this.” You gesture towards the room. “With being kidnapped, I mean. It’s not all bad.” You think about how you no longer rip your hair out from stress or cry yourself to sleep wondering how the bills will be paid this month. “As long as you’re not trying to do… the relationship stuff.” You drag your teeth over your bottom lip. You can still taste him, insistent and firm.

Tentatively, you let your gaze return to meet his. Behind his eyes, you can practically see the clockwork and cogs moving.

“I see,” he says, slow, thoughtful. “Thank you for the clear explanation.”

“Are you mad?”

He smiles. It looks like a weight has been taken off his chest, and that scares you.

“Of course not. Apologies will be in order for your behavior earlier today. But as for the rest? I’m not angered in the slightest.”

“Why not?”

The hand, the one he claimed held the red thread, catches against your own. His fingers interlock with yours and you feel too numb to pull away this time.

“Simple, dearest.” He pulls his fingers tighter and somehow it feels like your hands will never part again. It’s a ridiculous thought, childish, but it makes your heart quicken anyway. “Since you are so prone to acclimating to your… situation in other respects, I feel confident that you will not always feel so negatively towards a relationship with me.”

You want to protest. You start to, but you can’t find the words–sarcastic or otherwise.

“After all,” he continues, voice low and smooth and confident now. His other hand returns to your chin, tilting it up as he stares at you, assessing, greedily taking the sight of you in. “I have the rest of our lives together to change your mind.”

#yandere chrollo #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere #yandere chrollo lucilfer #afterwitch writes

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anameistoohard · 2 months

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Oh boy, lets open that can of worms

There's a LOT of discourse with endo vs anti-endo stuff (endogenic system=plural system not formed by trauma if you don't know 🙂). Like, death threats coming from both sides kinda thing. We try to stay out of it. But it's easy to accidentally stumble into it if you're not familiar with some of the nuance. So we want to share some observations as like, a crash course. (And apparently we had a lot to say lol.)

This post isn't really to debate how plurality forms. Just to give some context as to why so much hate is flying between these two groups.

Basically, you have 2 extremes. (And everyone in between obviously)

On one side you have people making up extra rules on top of the diagnostic criteria to exclude and gatekeep anyone who doesn't meet "their level" of disordered. (I've literally heard people say "you can't be a system, you're not as traumatized as me"). A lot of accusations of faking come from this bunch. Too much internal communication? Faker. Too many non-human alters? Faker. Too many or not enough alters? Faker. You can't win with them even if you have a diagnosis.

We've noticed a lot of parallels between this group and transmeds. You need to have x level of dysphoria to ride this ride. You can't be trans if you don't want xyz treatment. You need to reach my arbitrary bar of "trans enough". Enbys and everyone else are fakers. That kind of bs.

But on this side you also have a lot of people who just want to be taken seriously. They want to be validated by their diagnosis and feel hurt when people say or do things that they think will compromise that validity. They, at least initially, come from a place of sincerity not malice. But they fall into the trap of trying to be "one of the good ones".

On the other extreme you have the wild west. Things people treat as fact aren't codified with the same scrutiny as the DSM-5 or ICD-11. This breeds its own confusion and misinformation. We've seen people conflate plurality with things like maladaptive day dreaming, lucid dreaming, adhd, and (applying it to other people with ferocity to the point of harassment) metaphors of all things.

They have a spaghetti at the wall approach that reminds me of a less extreme MOGII (an attempt to define just about every possible form of gender and sexuality). It's a messy patchwork of ideas. We've seen 8 different labels that all mean the same thing and are being used by exactly no one. Redundancy and hyperspcificity, that's the name of the game. But frankly we like this if for no other reason than we want to see what sticks, what becomes mainstream.

We've seen people from this group attack people as badly as the anti-endo group. Openly mocking people for having trauma or saying vile shit like "traumagenics kys". They feel threatened by the exclusionary nature of diagnoses. But instead of taking their frustration out on the systems of power they take them out on normal people. After all if you're diagnosed, you "represent the system"... I guess. Equally bull shit.

But this is also where the edge cases go, the exclusions, those that don't fit into a neat little box. The DSM excludes people whose plurality is accepted as part of their culture or religion. These people don't suddenly stop being systems just because they're accepted, but they're distinctly not disordered. They don't meet the clinical definition of DID or OSDD. Same goes for someone whose symptoms are mild enough to not cause "clinically significant distress". You also have people who don't want to be pathologized or have been failed by the medical system.

So lastly, a warning: When dealing with plural stuff, it's very easy to go stumbling into a mine field.

Tldr: I would always rather land on the side of letting too many people in than exclude people who needed the support. However, no matter your in-group, some people take things too far. Like, ffs don't attack people.

-Taylor & Mark

#not giving this any proper tags cause I don't want a fucking maelstrom of hate coming at us lol #long post #this might be a bad idea

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kikokus · 2 months

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Lucci and Kaku: An Analysis

I haven’t done long analysis/meta/essay-style posts in a while, but after seeing a comment that amounted to “every time Lucci’s shown an interest in something that doesn’t have to do with killing, Kaku’s involved” it made me think about whether or not that's true and, more specifically, whether or not there’s been sufficient build-up to justify what happens in Chapter 1111.

So let’s explore, shall we?

First of all, basic disclaimer that I’ve been heavily into One Piece since 2008 and Water 7 has been my favorite arc since the first time I read it that summer. Kaku, in turn, has always been one of my top characters in the entire series for various reasons…but this isn’t about him (at least, not entirely), so all of that is just to say that I’ve thought about these characters a lot over the years.

And I think what always struck me about them is that not only are they so fundamentally different, but that realistically Lucci should not tolerate Kaku at all. He’s pretty much everything Lucci’s not, and they’re more-or-less a perfect example of the ‘someone will die…of fun!’ meme in a lot of ways (and honestly it’s what I think of every time I see this card, but I digress):

At the same time, what happened in the latest chapter didn’t surprise me, because there’s been hints all along, and I’ve personally been waiting years for it to pay off…even though part of me thought it never would, or at least not in the way it did!

Still, how did we get here?

But First, A Bit About 相棒

So. Why is the fact that Lucci calls Kaku his “相棒” (aibou) so significant? Mostly because of the…individualistic meaning of the word. It literally translates to ‘partner’, but not in a romantic/life-partner way (not to say that it has never been used like that, but it’s not the inherent meaning of the word).

Unlike words such as 友人 (yuujin), 友達 (tomodachi), and of course, with Luffy, 仲間 (nakama), aibou generally only refers to one person. You can have many friends, teammates, crew members…but only one aibou. So by calling Kaku that, Lucci’s already placing him on a different level to anyone else in CP9 or CP0 and acknowledging openly that Kaku’s important enough to him to have earned that distinction.

Which is why a lot of us were very excited about it, since this is not a common occurrence where Lucci’s concerned.

That aside, let’s get to the actual canon content.

Water 7

Obviously at the beginning we find out they both work at the shipyard, but that in and of itself isn’t entirely significant…until you consider that, since Kalifa is pretty much with Iceburg all the time and Blueno’s running the bar, the two of them are working in much closer proximity to each other than to the other CP9 members in the city.

The first real indication we get regarding their comfort level with each other comes in chapter 327 when Kaku gets back from examining the Merry and goes to sit down to explain what he’s discovered. Paulie’s the closest to him, but he actually ends up stepping past both him and Lucci in order to sit directly beside Lucci on the same level.

It’s quite a while before we see the two of them alone again, and it doesn’t happen until chapter 339 when they’re speaking with Robin. Of course at the time we’re not supposed to know it’s them, but there’s really nobody else it can be since this is happening at the exact same time that Blueno’s talking with Franky and Kokoro at the bar. So, as will become fairly common, the two of them are again acting as a unit of their own within the larger group.

And then, of course, we get the infiltration of the mansion prior to The Big Reveal (which I’ve spoken about before because for me it’s still the single greatest reveal in the entire manga because of how carefully crafted it is, right down to Kaku’s limited dialogue in this section being completely devoid of his usual speech quirks in the original Japanese text). Once again, Blueno and Kalifa are doing their own things while these two are working together.

This panel has always been interesting to me because immediately prior to this Lucci says he can’t let Paulie live, and then he decides to just restrain him instead. In Luffy’s case it makes sense because they gave their word to Robin not to harm the Strawhats, but he has absolutely no reason to spare Paulie, and the little lines of shock/surprise beside Kaku imply that he hadn’t expected Lucci to do that, either. The ‘why’ is still unclear, but it’s interesting nonetheless, and it’s also…noteworthy that it’s the only thing Lucci asks Kaku to do. All of the actual damage Paulie takes comes from Lucci and he never asks for or expects Kaku to harm him.

I never connected these two panels before but it’s obviously very deliberate to have Lucci telling Iceburg that feeling emotions is a sign of humanity followed immediately by Kaku…demonstrating exactly that and thanking Iceburg. It’s important to establish that part of Kaku’s character, but keep in mind Lucci’s lack of a reaction here because it’ll come back later.

Again, very tiny moment, but there’s a lot of examples of Lucci deferring to Kaku or letting him take the lead without any hesitation, and I like this because Kaku’s noticed something that Lucci hasn’t and Lucci just goes with it immediately.

I’d forgotten about this but Kaku’s also the one that decides to take Usopp with them, first by recognizing him as one of the Strawhats and then going through with it even after finding out he doesn’t consider himself a part of them anymore. And Lucci just…stands back and lets him give out orders to the others while doing so.

Okay so this is what I was referencing earlier. Kaku shows actual emotions with Iceburg and Lucci’s silent, but the moment Kalifa gets even slightly happy about completing the mission he’s berating her instantly. Kaku’s expression here is interesting too because he looks absolutely haunted and it’s very telling.

And also another visual representation of Lucci and Kaku being equal to/on the same level as each other.

I didn’t include the panel but Kaku was ‘sleeping’ when Corgi was giving them all of the information about Nero while Lucci was (seemingly) wide awake, and yet Lucci has no idea who he is and relies on Kaku to have all the information. Which he does.

Kaku being the one to take charge again and direct the others even though Lucci’s standing right there. They do this more than I’d realized at first, especially since Lucci always seems to be looked at as the unofficial ‘leader’ of CP9.

Enies Lobby

We’ve made it to Enies Lobby, which is the first glimpse we get of these two interacting with the full CP9 group outside of any sort of ‘mission’ environment.

Mostly it entails Lucci being more combative (especially with Jabra) and Kaku being more annoyed, but again I can’t really imagine anyone else taking this tone with Lucci and getting away with it while Kaku does it fairly often and Lucci never retorts or gets angry with him.

And while Kaku’s not immune to taking Jabra’s bait in the right circumstances, his typical tendency is to de-escalate situations if he can and here he’s refusing to engage despite being deliberately called out…and Lucci, without being asked, immediately takes his side and defends his choice.

This is practically the next panel and while both Lucci and Jabra are kind of equally at fault for this little display, Kaku only berates Jabra for it while Kalifa’s directing her comments at both of them.

Now that I’m actually looking for these sorts of things it’s becoming more obvious, but again we have Lucci and Kaku in an equal position to each other at the front of CP9.

This isn’t just to Kaku since Kalifa’s there as well, but Lucci’s still encouraging them to eat the fruits and I have to believe it’s coming from a place of good faith because he’d know whether or not being able to swim is that big an issue in their profession. I also want to note that Kaku echoes Lucci’s ‘it’ll be fun’ line when he actually does eat his fruit, so obviously that resonated with him.

I’ve put these two together because they both highlight the same thing, that being in both of these sequences we get almost all of CP9 giving out their individual thoughts/comments on what’s happening but Kaku’s statement both times is a direct reply to what Lucci says, so again the two of them are paired off in a way that doesn’t include anyone else there.

The only other thing of note in this section is that while Robin’s talking about what happened during the Buster Call on Ohara, Kaku and Lucci are the only CP9 members to kind of…break formation and actually look at her while she’s speaking, which is interesting.

And for the rest of Enies Lobby they aren’t together so there’s not too much more to say here other than Kaku of course being the one to have the actual key to Robin’s cuffs, but it’s never made explicit who came up with that plan or handed out the keys so…if I ever actually do the thing and write a full analysis of Kaku’s character we can talk about it then Lark you’ve been saying you’ll do this for years IF I EVER--

Interlude - CP9’s Independent Report

Besides the fact that this is still one of my favorite cover stories, there’s a couple of noteworthy things here, the first of which is that Kaku again is taking the lead. Even though he’s the only other CP9 member other than Lucci to be injured badly enough that he can’t walk on his own, he’s still the one directing them where to go.

Other than that, I love seeing all of them just…interacting like friends and being very relaxed and casual, and pretty much every panel where Kaku and Lucci are together they’re directly beside each other so I’ve included a bunch of those here.

Dressrosa & Egghead

The next time we see Lucci and Kaku is at the end of Dressrosa, where they’ve been promoted to CP0 Oda can we please get some explanation of how this happened and let me tell you, I remember this vividly because the spoilers at the time just said that Lucci was talking to ‘someone’ and when the raws came out you can bet I went right to the dialogue to see if it was Kaku because his way of speaking is so telling.

But even in this little scene, we can see they’re having an equal conversation and there’s a major difference between how Lucci’s speaking with Kaku and how he addresses Spandam mere seconds later.

After this we have the Reverie/Levely/what-even-is-this-thing-called arc where they get all of a single panel together and while it’s the first time we actually ‘see’ Kaku after the time-skip, nothing really interesting regarding their relationship happens, so let’s move on to…

The end of the colored manga! And Egghead.

We start with a very familiar situation: Lucci asking Kaku what’s going on, and while Kaku this entire arc seems more outwardly annoyed with Lucci than he ever was in the past (which is never really explained but then again, Lucci spends a lot of the arc doing things he’s specifically been told not to do, so maybe it’s understandable…), he still has all the information and relays it.

Though Kaku’s also much more comfortable letting his real personality show despite them being on a mission while before he was always completely serious after the Water 7 reveal, especially around Lucci. It came through with Zoro and Jabra but during the cover story he’s smiling and laughing a lot with Lucci right there so it makes sense he’d be more willing to let his guard down even ‘on the job’ by now.

So here’s the first real instance of Lucci showing concern for Kaku, something which escalates pretty quickly throughout the arc. It’s subtle, and though he’s framing it as a suggestion to Stussy, if he didn’t care at all he wouldn’t have said anything.

At this point it’s fairly obvious that Lucci and Kaku don’t really have any authority difference between them and Kaku spends a lot of time in this chapter especially telling Lucci to Not Do The Thing. Anyone that’s ever lived with a cat knows how well this works.

I’ve always found this bit of dialogue particularly interesting because Kaku’s very openly…praising Sentomaru for choosing his loyalty to Vegapunk over assisting the government, and there’s no way Lucci doesn’t hear him say this but he doesn’t say anything in return. There’s no real evidence that Lucci knows about Kaku willingly giving up the key to Zoro or how conflicted he was about Paulie and everyone else, but this seems to imply that at the very least, even if he doesn’t share those sentiments, he wouldn’t think less of Kaku because of it.

Putting these two together since they’re in the same scene but at this point it’s not even subtle concern anymore, Lucci’s genuinely worried for Kaku and you can tell this caught him off-guard.

Kaku’s the first one to suggest working together but Lucci immediately backs him up and goes with the idea. It’s logical in the sense that it’ll give them the biggest chance to survive, but willingly working with pirates isn’t exactly the sort of thing that Lucci, especially in the past, would have so easily done regardless of the situation.

So at this point it’s becoming clear that this whole 4-v-2 section is supposed to be the most…light-hearted thing going on right now and a lot of it is played to be comedic, including Lucci’s inability to lie, but yet again there’s almost nobody else that could get away with scolding him the way Kaku’s doing here.

…And then we skip ahead a day and things happen that I really hope get explained at some point because they seem important, but while Lucci’s never going to have impeccable bedside manner, he’s very concerned with getting Kaku to rest and while Kaku’s trying to justify what happened Lucci really doesn’t seem to care about that. It’s a big departure from him being willing to write off anyone he deems ‘too weak’ and it’s a nice character moment.

I’d mentioned on my liveblog that some of the things Lucci was doing after this point were confusing, but if you look at them through the lens of him wanting to protect Kaku, it makes a lot more sense. Yes, he’s deliberately keeping him out of the loop, but Lucci I think has decided that he’s going to throw caution to the wind and act alone since if Kaku can’t prove he knew about the plan, he’s probably safer being left with the Strawhats, and if the Marines show up he should be safe anyway or so Lucci thinks…

When this chapter came out, I’d said something about Lucci being a hypocrite considering what the rest of CP9 did for him when they could have easily just left him at Enies Lobby, but given what happens almost directly after and likely what he’s trying to do with this entire fight, these words feel even less genuine…

And that brings us to this. The moment that I’ve been thinking about for almost an entire week now. The moment that, looking back at…oh, wow…almost 3000 words of analysis maybe shouldn’t be as surprising as it was for most of us, but it does feel like the payoff for a long, long buildup that’s taken nearly twenty years to reach. Because really, there’s no other way to describe them other than ‘partners’, and probably hasn’t been for a long time…and I’m so glad that Lucci acknowledged it.

To summarize, I think what surprised me most about re-visiting all of this is how much the manga has framed them as equals since the beginning even though it was never explicitly stated between the characters themselves. Lucci’s always been far more lenient with Kaku than with anyone else, and Kaku in turn has never had any fear of Lucci even if he wasn’t really expressing his true self with him for a long time.

The cover story being the turning point makes perfect sense, and the progression throughout Egghead of Lucci being more outwardly willing to show his concern and Kaku not hiding his emotions at all seems like a natural progression of their relationship and their level of comfort around each other.

And the fact that Oda is never really…hitting us over the head with any of it until that final moment when Lucci says everything so plainly because Kaku’s life is the most important thing to him even when faced with a literal monster… It’s so effective.

I don’t know where we go from here. To be honest, I’m kind of scared of where we go from here. But regardless of the outcome, I hope this little essay has been at the very least interesting and perhaps allowed you to look at these two in a different light.

Thanks for reading.

#one piece #opspoilers #rob lucci #kaku #meta #analysis #i forgot about the 30 photo limit so I had to get creative here but #3k words of me examining their relationship sure happened

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averagewriter-inthedark · 4 months

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The Old Therebefore 🐍🕊️ | A Six of Crows Imagine

Takes place after the events of S&B S2

My masterlists

Characters & Pairings: gang leader!reader x Crows (platonic). Kaz Brekker x reader (slight tension)

content warnings: profanity, mentions of violence and death, typical SOC themes. | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4k

Premise: it’s not often Kaz Brekker needs assistance to a job involving anyone other than his Crows. Yet, there is always a first. When a job comes involving not only a high cash prize but also chances of coming out alive slim, Kaz accepts it is out of his skill level. So, what does he do? Take a risk by recruiting his top rival since Pekka Rollins was run out of town….she’s got the charm of a snake with a voice of a songbird.

Note: so as you can tell by the title of the imagine and song linked, I saw the new hunger games movie (back in November) and literally could not stop thinking about this song/scene. Then of course my hyperfixations like to collide and wallah: here is the end result.

Disclaimer as always: the song and lyrics belong to Suzanne collins and all the SOC characters belong to Leigh Bardugo

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“You know, Kaz, I know better than to question you on most things,” Jesper scanned his surroundings, voice low with slight concern. “But I can’t help but wonder why you’ve decided to drag us to the ‘Snake Pit’ tonight.” The sharpshooter sipped his glass of rum after a close inspection, “mind telling us.”

Seated around him, Inej, Nina, and Wylan expressions bore the same unease. All on high alert the moment Kaz led them through the doors and down the spiral staircase into the Barrel’s infamous Snake Pit.

Located deep on the opposite side of the Crow Club, the Snake Pit was an underground bar/club. Home of the legendary crime gang, the Blood Serpents. They’d been around since Kaz was 15, their leader to have been the same age as him. Yet the public knew very little of the notorious boss. Only by their code name.

The Snake Charmer

Of course, this information made Kaz lose his mind at times. Unable to identify his anonymous rival who’s bested him on multiple occasions. If the opportunity arose, Kaz would pay any amount of kruge to find out who the Snake Charmer was. It’d been well over a decade. His patience was running thin.

Finally, the wait would pay off in the form of a messenger boy.

Knowing Inej was too recognizable, Kaz sent a young member of the Dregs--who was under the radar to the other gangs--to infiltrate the Snake Pit the week prior. The boy returned hours later to relay a crucial piece of information. Now, Kaz was to test that theory.

Clutching his cane, the crime boss did not spare a glance to his fellow Crows the second they entered the Pit. Even when they took claim to a rounded booth in a far corner by the bar. His attention was occupied. Analyzing the club and its features. Mentally noting the Blood Serpent members, who were identifiable by their red snake tattoos on their hands.

One of which was the bartender that served them drinks. A young woman about their age, she wore a maroon pin-stripped 5 piece suit although the blazer was forgone. The tattoo was on full display. Kaz assessed her lingering on him when she pushed the tray of drinks toward Jesper. Likely recognizing him and by default the rest of the Crows. The bartender didn’t say anything after, only giving a nod before moving to the next customer.

To the other Crows, they thought Kaz’s intense stare on the bartender was either because he thought she was attractive or making note she was just another member of the Serpents. But, what they did not know was Kaz figuring out if she was the Snake Charmer.

“A woman?” he questioned the boy, narrowing his eyes. “You are telling me the Snake Charmer--leader of the Blood Serpents--is a woman and works under the guise of an employee at the Snake Pit. Are you positive?”

The boy nodded profusely, “Yes, Mr. Brekker. I can assure you it was no man singing that song. She sounded like a siren if I must say. She calmed the snakes like it was nothing-- I see why they call her Snake Charmer.”

So a woman was responsible for a lot of Kaz’s failures. Not to mention winning the territory he’d hoped to gain when Pekka was defeated. They’d come to a settled agreement through a middle man. An action that annoyed Kaz. But he knew better than to wage war with the Snake Charmer.

So far the women in the gang he’s managed to identify besides the bartender were two serving girls, a door bouncer, and two poker dealers. A total of six. Of the men, most of them were standing on the walls and mingling along the floor.

Bet she didn’t expect him to enter her den.

The Snake Pit was exactly like what the boy described. Dark wood floors and walls up to the high ceilings. Dangling chandeliers, poker tables, two bars on either side. Booths aligned the walls. The most notable and unique trait, however, was the glass snake enclosure right smack in the middle of the floor. It was cylinder shaped at the bottom, lining the floor to the ceiling where it branched out on either side to resemble a tree. Plants and dirt filled it.

As did ten serpents. Ranging from tiny garden snakes to a python.

Jesper cringed when his eyes landed on it. Wylan looked deathly afraid. Nina found it amusing. Inej thought it was fitting. Kaz was pleased to see it. To him, that was ammunition.

Kaz answered Jesper with one word that told the whole story, “Business.”

“What business could you possibly have with the Snake Charmer?” Inej questioned, hand on her side close to her knives. “Don’t you think we should be discussing the plan?”

“And we are,” Kaz rebutted, leaning into the booth with his gaze set on the enclosure. “We’re here to flush out the Snake Charmer.”

Jesper choked on his drink, meanwhile Nina and Inej looked at Kaz like he was crazy. “You’re fooling us aren’t you?” “Boss, jokes aren’t really your thing--.” “You’re insane, Kaz, if you believe that’ll happen.”

“You see that enclosure?” He cut off their rambling. All responded with a look of, ‘Of course we see the ginormous Snake habitat in the middle of the club full of our enemies.’ Kaz nodded to it, “we need to destroy it.”

Once again, Jesper choked. This time on his saliva. “You’ve lost it,” he ignored the glare from his boss, “Did going through the fold change you, Kaz? Clearly you’re not actually thinking we let loose a dozen snakes,” he leans forward to whisper, “we don’t even know if they’re venomous. If their bites don’t kill us, surely their owner will.”

Analyzing Kaz, Inej lowered her tone, “what are you not telling us, Kaz?”

Giving one last scan of his surroundings, Kaz addressed his Crows with the truth of why he brought them to the Snake Pit. “I have a lead on who the owner of this establishment is.” Their reactions were immediate, Kaz continued. “A week ago I sent a young messenger boy here to scout out the place--find anything that could help identify the Serpents boss. During closing he snuck into one of their storage closets,” Kaz attempted to locate said closet, somewhere behind one of the bars.

Kaz paid close attention to the bartender and the poker dealers. “At some point in the night, one of the snakes got loose. Or,” he turned to Jesper and Inej, “my theory is they use those snakes as a means to get information on people.”

“Great,” Nina sighs, “you want us to free the Serpent's torture method. Well done, Brekker. Excellent plan if I must say.” The heartrender received a glare, but Kaz did not entertain it further.

“As I was saying,” his tone was stern, making the others hold onto any additional comments. “The boy overheard the panic of one of the Serpents. Turns out, the Snake Charmer doesn’t take kindly to her pets being mishandled.”

“I can see why,” Jesper mutters, glancing at the enclosure.

Kaz gripped his cane, watching the female bouncer approach the bartender and exchange words. “He then heard a woman’s voice. Singing.”

Wylan raised a brow, “Singing?”

“Whatever it was, it calmed the snake. Allowed her to return the animal back to its case. The boy said he heard arguing between a couple members who hoped to clean up their mistake before the boss discovered it.” Kaz shifted in his seat, “didn’t end well for them.”

“Did you get a look at her face?” Kaz peered out his office window, facing the direction of the Snake Pit’s location. Moonlight shining down, almost as though the Saints wanted him to see the building. Behind him, he heard the boy clear his throat.

“No, Sir.” He stuttered, tensing at the sight of Kaz lowering his head. “The door didn’t have any cracks or holes I could see through. I tried looking underneath, but only got a glimpse of their shoes.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “What happened after she finished singing? How’d you get out?”

“Once the snake was handled, she ordered them to her office. She sounded….calm, but you know how you just know when someone is masking their anger. That’s how it was when she addressed them.” Kaz hummed, indicating he understood the boy’s implication. Considering he was guilty of such.

“And then?”

“I waited a few minutes until I was sure they were gone. The direction they went sounded like it was the far left of the club--opposite side of the spiral staircase that’s both the entrance and exit. I think there's a secret back entrance where they were because when I came out it was completely empty.”

Kaz found the secret back entrance. Camouflaged as a bookcase. He was able to spot the hinges carefully placed to where the light made it difficult to see them. But Kaz Brekker knew the art of illusion in the back of his hand.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he became serious. The Crows lean in to hear him while maintaining their alert. “We need to expose those snakes from their enclosure. They’ll be our bait. From there we wait. If my theory is correct, those snakes only answer to their master. Or charmer in this case.” Kaz paused to locate the female workers in the club. “Her act as an employee is a ruse.”

Jesper followed his gaze, once again becoming riddled with unease. “You’re implying the Snake Charmer is either the bouncer who let us in, the gal who served our drinks, the serving girls working the floor or one of the poker dealers?”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, Jesper.”

“Why would she do that?”

Nina snorted, sipping at her whiskey, “Isn’t it obvious?” she didn’t wait for an answer, “no one would pay a second glance to a worker. They are either too drunk or too naive to assume the pretty bartender or serving girl is the boss of one of Ketterdam’s deadly gangs.” She gestured to the serving girl closest to her. “My money’s on her being the Charmer.”

Jesper scoffed, “no way. To be a ghost and retain anonymity all these years you have to have a great poker face.” He states the obvious, “it’s one of the dealers.”

Inej rolled her eyes, “are you seriously making this a competition?”

“You don’t think it could be the bouncer?” Wylan asked, scratching the back of his neck to relax the tension he felt.

“No,” Jesper replied with a wave of a hand, “that would be obvious, don’t you think? Although….,” he rubs his chin, “considering they let us in -- and we know how much you and the Snake Charmer have been rivals so to speak all these years, boss -- you don’t think by letting us through that we walked into some sort of trap?”

Inej immediately straightened, “Jes has a point.” Nina stopped munching on her calamari, waiting for Kaz. She too realized the potential threat.

Kaz, however, remained relaxed. “It’s not the bouncer, but I know the Charmer has already been notified of our presence.” Wylan’s worry intensified.

“What makes you think that?”

“As we’ve been talking I noticed all the women working the club have interacted at some point. Some making it obvious to point us out,” He was referring to the bouncer nodding her head to the one serving girl. “Others are more discreet.” That was to the poker dealer and bartender.

“And yet,” Jesper groans. “You still want us to make a scene. We are literally in a place crawling with snakes--pun not really intended.” the table rolled his eyes at him, save for Wylan who found the joke amusing. “Point is….you want to unleash the Snake Charmer’s serpents into a club full of innocent people--.”

“Innocent,” Nina scoffed under her breath.

“What if one of us gets bitten?” Jesper kept his gaze on Kaz with mild concern. “I don’t believe for a second the Snake Charmer will kindly hand over the antidote to save our lives. She’ll take pleasure in watching us suffer a horrible death.” Picturing the scene, the sharpshooter downs the rest of his drink, cringing in the process. “Saints, this is not how I pictured I’d die.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, “No one’s dying today. No mourners.” Everyone glanced at each other.

“No funerals.”

“Right then,” It was time to work. “Here’s what we’ll do….”

A prayer slipped past his lips before Jesper inhaled deeply and let the bullet fly. The sound caused gasps from around him, though he was quick to hide the weapon in its holster before one noticed.

“Who did that?!” came a shout from the bouncer. Patrons were already making their way toward the exit. Not wanting to get caught in a crossfire.

Jesper occupied himself with his rum, glancing over his shoulder to Inej, who signaled to him the bullet did not penetrate the glass completely. Sighing, he downed the contents, waited until it was clear, and shot again.

The second bullet hit the glass with a loud clunk. Once again alerting the occupants of the Snake Pit. Many searched themselves for any sign of blood for fear they were shot by an unknown assailant.

“C’mon,” Jesper whispered, peering at the enclosure. He saw the evidence of his bullet, a chip in the glass near the bottom. If he could time it right, without someone getting in the way, he’d hit the mark.

Meanwhile employees of the club were trying to calm the crowd, “everyone please remain--.” Another shot rang out, more shouts echoing. Kaz’s patience was running thin. Their door to escape started to close as he noticed the security begin to close in on the Crows. No doubt suspecting they were to blame for the chaos.

Kaz Brekker coming to the Snake Pit with his most trusted advisors for only a drink? Yeah right.

Then, almost in slow motion, the sound best described as ice cracking filled his ears. All eyes turned to the enclosure. Fear surfacing as they witnessed spiderwebs painting the glass. Then all hell broke loose when the glass gave way, allowing the beasts freedom from their isolation.

Screams ensued. People climbing from the floors onto tables and chairs. Hissing from the snakes intensified the hysteria. Kaz even found himself moving when the python pivoted in his direction. Jesper of course found himself on top of a chair the moment the glass shattered. Inej was high up on a balcony on the opposite side of the club. How did she get up there? No one knew. Wyalan was close to Jesper. He too found safety on a stool. Nina meanwhile was listening to the heartbeats around here. The number decreased each time a patron made it up the staircase and out the door.

Seconds passed and no sight of the Snake Charmer. Kaz was getting worried. Fearing the plan was a failure. His worry increased when he found himself scurrying on top of a poker table. Distracted with trying to find the workers he suspected of being the Snake Charmer to realize the cobra had got close to him. Had he not acted fast, the man’s leg would’ve fallen victim to its fangs. Catching Jesper’s eye, they shared the concern evident in their expressions. Wondering just how the fuck they were going to escape the situation.

Suddenly his prayers were answered in the form of an angelic voice. Causing the screams to disappear…..

“You’re heading for heaven,

The sweet old hereafter,

And I’ve got one foot in the door.

But before I can fly up,

I’ve loose ends to tie up,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.”

Heads turned, facing the direction of the sound. Their expressions turned into pure shock. Kaz may have had his suspicions, but it still came as a shock to discover he was right all along.

Ketterdam’s notorious crime boss, leader of the Blood Serpents….was the Snake Pit’s bartender.

Walking around the bar, crunching against the glass of broken bottles on the floor from the hysteria of customers fleeing to get away from the snakes, the woman kept her gaze on slithering animals. The hissing continued as she inched closer, however she did not seem fazed at all. Her singing continued.

“I’ll be along,

When I’ve finished my song,

When I’ve shut down the band,

When I’ve played out my hand,

When I’ve paid all my debts,

When I have no regrets,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

The hissing got quieter. The animals turning so they were in line with the woman. Slithering slowly but surely toward her. Confirming to everyone she was their master. Their charmer.

Off to the side, a few of the Blood Serpents rushed in with crates. Pushing people aside. Meanwhile the woman got to her knees, leveling down to the snakes who were now moving toward her. Eyes locked, face serious. The Snake Charmer was obviously trying to keep herself together. But Kaz felt the rage seep off of her.

“I’ll catch you up,

When I’ve emptied my cup,

When I’ve worn out my friends,

When I’ve burned out both ends,

When I’ve cried all my tears,

When I’ve conquered my fears,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

The snakes smaller in size slithered up her outstretched arms. Covering both limbs in a tangle of scales. One slithering up to encase her neck, almost like a necklace. The Cobra took claim to her waist. The python circled her, almost like it contemplated joining its fellow serpents.

Around Kaz, he made out the faint gasps of customers who had yet to depart. Glancing around, he witnessed them all in states of shock and awe. Even his Crows were at a loss of words.

As was he.

The Snake Charmer’s voice turned strong. Echoing through the entire club as she belted out the next verse. Bringing chills to everyone’s arms.

“I’ll bring the news,

When I’ve danced off my shoes,

When my body’s closed down,

When my boat’s run around,

When I’ve tallied the score,

And I’m flat on the floor,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

Rising from the ground, she was covered by the creatures. Her python has wrapped itself around her leg. Its tail was on the floor while its head perched by where the cobra had secured itself on her belt. From the neck down the Snake Charmer was a sight to behold. Revealing why the nickname was not only because she was the leader of a gang filled with snakes.

It was because she was gifted with the talent of charming their namesake.

Moving toward her subordinates holding crates, no doubt to keep the animals contained, the woman passionately sang the final verse. Giving it all she had.

“When I’m pure like a dove,

When I’ve learned how to love.”

Tone dropping, she leaned to lower the snakes into the crates. Gently as though they were newborn babies. Kaz caught her stoke the pythons head, her singing so low it was good the place was dead quiet.

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, the snakes were safely stored in the crates. Lids dropping shut with the gang members hurrying from the floor to transport them to another room. No one moved. Any and all eyes focused on the woman in the pinstripe suit. Back turned to the Crows and other patrons, but from the fearful look of her door bouncers, everyone silently prayed they’d make it to the morning.

Moving her neck in a circle, a low crack from the joints that had been stiff, she slowly turned to face the audience. A clenched jaw and fury in her eyes made it clear what was going through her mind. Especially to Kaz, who was fighting to not look away when she instantly met his gaze.

Oh, she knew alright.

“Well…” the Charmer’s tone sent chills along the Crows' bodies. “You’ve certainly got my attention, Mr. Brekker.” Her spite was evident. Complete rage. Likely planning every means of torture she wished to bestow on her rival and his comrades.

It was so quiet. So thrilling. Nobody dared to move a muscle. Patrons watching the stare down between the King, and now the unmasked Queen, of the Barrel. It was captivating yet terrifying. Wondering who would make the first move, and if it will end in a blood bath.

Then she snapped, “Everyone out!!” The floor cleared in seconds. Leaving only Serpents and Crows. They knew better than to attempt an escape. Plus the moment their boss addressed Kaz, the Serpents had circled them to prevent any sudden attack.

Kaz remained composed. Watching closely as the Snake Charmer moved to the bar to pour herself a drink. “Before I kill you, Kaz Brekker, and your little birds too,” she did not look at him, paying attention to the liquid filling the glass. He tightened his jaw. “I want to hear you explain to me why you brought yourselves to my club,” bringing the glass to her lips, she downed half the alcohol in one gulp. Drawing her eyes up to make contact with him, “And destroyed my babies' home.”

Her footsteps echoed, walking toward the center of the floor where Kaz stood. “You’re a smart man.” She took another sip, this time slower. “Not only did you manage to draw me into the light, but you knew exactly how to do so.” A smirk plastered on Kaz’s face. A bold move considering the threat lingering at displaying his smugness to the Serpent Queen. Her lips were in a thin line, “What brings you to my den?”

Straightening his posture, Kaz stepped closer. Their distance is only a mere foot from one another. Making everyone--Crows and Serpents alike--suffocating from the tension between the two.

“You won’t be killing us tonight, Charmer.” If only he knew her real name. Only having her title felt like she had some reign on him. Superior in a sense. The whole Barrel knew him as Dirtyhands, but Kaz Brekker had his own reputation. For her, people can now put a face to the name Snake Charmer. A beautiful woman with the voice of an angel. So powerful it made snakes bend to her will.

Also, people would be shaken by the fact the deadly gang leader served them drinks during their visits to the Snake Pit. Hidden in plain sight. Listening to them spill their drunken secrets.

Kaz leaned closer, the scent of her perfume hitting his nostrils. Jasmine. A flower known to attract snakes. He understood why she wore it. The smell was alluring. As was her presence, but Kaz dismissed the thought as quick as it came. “Doing so will result in you losing an important job I’m willing to negotiate your assistance on. Believe me, the reward is more than generous--enough for the both of us to share.” Now he got her attention, confirmed by the way her head slightly tilted, brow raised.

“Humor me, Brekker.”

“Have you ever heard of jurda parem?”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker fanfic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #Spotify

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calcifiedunderland · 9 months

Text

Wishing Wells & a Hunter’s Box

or, Encounters of a Disney-Aware Prefect, ft. Rook Hunt

Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3, Part 4

GN reader, uses they/them pronouns!

Warnings: None

Please enjoy~

—————

Damn, Crewel’s class is gonna end me.

You were slouched against the well in the courtyard. Despite the blue birds and doves singing sweetly from the apple trees and squirrels scurrying from branch to branch, you were in a foul mood. You stared at the papers in your hand, waiting for Rook to come help you after Crewel set up a tutoring session for you (against your will-)

Your latest lab report from Alchemy was pockmarked with red marks, all made by none other than Divus Crewel. As if that wasn’t grim enough, he’d even pulled you aside after class a few days ago.

“Prefect, I understand that since you hail from another world, you may find it more… difficult to understand these concepts,” you’d grimaced and tried to hold his gaze. His eyes were steely, but he didn’t seem disappointed per se. Concerned? “You’ve done well enough thus far, but I’d like for you to have some extra help. To… level the playing field, as Vargas would say.”

Crewel was taking pity on you? The Crewel, who assigned Epel a basically impossible task to grow some magical plant? The same Crewel who would’ve skinned Ace alive over spilling a single drop of ingredient? The Crewel who ran Science Club with an iron fist? That Crewel???

“Teacher’s pet,” Ace quipped as he stuffed food in his mouth when you told everyone during lunch. “Literally. He’s nicer to you, anyway. And he calls you his lil’ pup,” he grinned, snarky.

“Yeah, I’d rather not be babied by Crewel,” you retorted. Jack and Deuce seemed pensive about it. “If Crewel’s giving you pointers, maybe that’s a good thing,” Jack pointed out. “You’re not on his bad side at least.” Deuce nodded, trying to cheer you up. “He knows you’re at least trying.”

Grim swiped at your plate, then asked with his mouth full, “So what’d he want anyway? Y’gotta do retaliation too? Ya won’t stay my henchman if y’can’t pass alchemy!”

“Grim, you have to do remediation, and no I don’t. He actually asked the Science Club if anyone would be interested, and he said Rook would help.”

“Seriously? That guy?” Ace spluttered. Deuce looked concerned, “you sure you’ll be safe with him? I mean, if you help, we could ask Housewarden Rosehearts or Trey for help.” “Or Leona,” Jack chimed in.

You were touched by your friends concern. “I’ll be fine guys, Rook may be a little… odd, but he hasn’t been that bad. It’ll be fine.”

So now, it was late afternoon. You’d been waiting forever for the blond to finish in Science Club, you were lowkey hungry and highkey stressed, and you would really like a nap. It seemed fine then, but now you were getting impatient and your paper seemed to be taunting you. Frustrated, you sprang up and turned to the well.

“Aaaaaaauuhgghh!” You screamed into it, then immediately winced when it echoed back AAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHHHH at you. Wells didn’t like being yelled at.

You huffed, and your thoughts wandered back to your weekend trip with Vil.

He’d taken you out to ‘teach you about film-making’, and while it was nice, it was a little daunting to see not only him, but his father, in their natural element. Not to mention, afterwards he’d taken you shopping in places where the price tags had too many zeroes to comprehend.

But before that, you somehow made the Dark Mirror speak to you, all from a little line from a dream. A movie?

Maybe it was more than a dream. Maybe it was a hazy memory from your life before Night Raven College, and even though you arrived only a few months ago, why was it so hard to remember? Either way, you remembered the Fairest Queen speaking to the Mirror, and…

A girl singing to the well?

You kicked yourself up, abandoning your lab report on the grass. You leaned over the well, seeing your wiggling reflection in the water. Above your head, a little bluebird and dove swooped and perched at the bar with the water pail, chirping sweetly. Your mind flashed to your dream, where the girl in a ragged dress sang sweetly into the well.

‘I’m wishing!’ I’m wishing!, came the echo.

‘For the one I love!’

‘To find me!’ To find me!

‘Today!’ Today!

You hummed it to yourself, glancing around warily for anyone who was passing by. There wouldn’t be anyone nearby anytime soon, since club time didn’t end for a small while.

Still, you felt a little silly for wanting to sing into a goddamn well. But when you thought about flopping back on the ground, your mind went back to the Dark Mirror responding to your mindless question.

If the Dark Mirror, which supposedly only obeyed the Headmaster of NRC, responded to you, surely something could happen at this well, right? After all, both had been here since the school’s founding.

“I-“ you coughed as your voice cracked, and cleared your throat self-consciously. You tried again,

“I’m wishing,” the echo came back, I’m wishing.

“…for the… one I love.” One I love.

“To… find me,” To find me.

You felt more comfortable now, “Today!”

“TODAY!”

You shrieked and fell on the grass as none other than Rook fucking Hunt bounded up to you with a grin, ignoring your utter embarrassment as he loomed over like a hunter crowding his prey, blocking out the sun ominously. You scrambled back a bit and got to your feet.

“Rook,” you seethed, still embarrassed. “Why?”

“Ah, mon cher tricksteur!” He sighed happily, the feather in his hat fluttering. “I hadn’t known you were a secret romantic! Singing to a well, quelle suprise! La romance, la mystique, la beauté-“

“Alright Rook, that’s enough-“ you tried, but he just carried on. “Why, it makes me want to sing with you!”

Rook promptly burst into song, one hand on his chest and the other flailing around as he spun. He’d at least changed into his regular school uniform, otherwise strange liquids from his club outfit would’ve been flying everywhere, and then you’d have another issue on your hands.

“ROOK!” You screamed exasperated. He stopped and grinned mischievously. “Je suis desolé, I seem to have gotten carried away. Ah, but look at the time! We must prepare you, or Professor Crewel will have both of our hides!”

He spun on his heel, an easy smile on his face, and offered his arm to you. “Shall we, mon cher (y/n)?” His sharp green eyes seemed to soften ever so slightly at you. You nodded slowly and took his arm, and allowed him to steer you away to wherever he was going.

Even though nothing happened (except Rook nearly giving you a heart attack), your mind wandered to the girl in your memory-dream. After she sang that part, she wasn’t alone. She’d sung a duet with… a man?

You glanced at Rook, regarding the feather in his hat bob up and down cheerfully. You smiled despite yourself. A man with a feathered hat.

Rook had taken you to the Pomefiore common room and, despite your friends’ fears, was quite helpful and very meticulous. The hours passed, and when you both were finished going over every procedure, ingredient, applicable magic law, and anything else that Crewel could throw at you, the room became flooded with a soft haze from the setting sun.

You leaned back on the lavish purple couch as Rook perused his own notes. You quietly looked around the common room.

It was much different than Ramshackle’s dusty living room. The room just oozed with luxury and royalty. Truly fit for the Fairest Queen indeed.

Your gaze shifted to a large display case. Sometime ago, when Vil was in his tyrant rampage during VDC, he’d dragged you through Pomefiore and given you a grand tour (against your will, which happened alarmingly often) of the dorm, including the precious objects within said case. You stood and walked to it, leaving Rook to his own work.

The display case held a few objects. The crown Vil wore with his dorm uniform (only taken out when he needed it, apparently passed down to all dorm leaders of Pomefiore). A beautiful dagger with a heart (owned by the Queen’s most trusted huntsman), and-

You frowned, mind becoming fuzzy. An ornate box with a knife through the heart, beautiful and golden-

‘The blundering fool!’

You shook your head and blinked a few times. You stared at the box, brow furrowed.

A dark-haired man with a feather in his cap accepted the box with shaking hands. You couldn’t hear what the regal woman in black said to him, but he didn’t seem to like it. Then suddenly, he was in the forest with the girl in the yellow and blue dress, and raising his dagger to her turned back and-

“I see you’ve found the dorm treasures!”

You jumped, spinning around to Rook smiling innocently down at you, knowing exactly what he did. He’d snuck up so quietly to you, or you were so deep in thought, that you didn’t even hear him. You clutched your chest, breathing quickly.

Forget a defibrillator, Rook could easily restart your heart with his constant jumpscares.

“These two are relics of the Fairest Queen, many years ago,” he began, speaking softer when he saw how startled you were, eyes regarding yours gently. “They are treasures that are a testament to her tenacity and perseverance.”

You were calmer now, and you glanced back at the cabinet. “The dagger…” you turned to him, “Did the hunter use it?” You asked naively, swallowing thickly at what you hoped didn’t happen.

Rook chuckled, but noted how you seemed shaken by your question. He said gently, “Of course mon cher, he was a hunter like moi. He used his dagger as needed.” He gestured to the ornate box, “legend has it that he even brought the heart of a deer to the Fairest Queen upon request.”

A deer. You sighed in relief. Of course he wouldn’t kill the girl. Of course. Who’d want to hurt her?

As you and Rook ruminated by the relics, the sun sank and students entered the dorm, chattering amongst themselves. Vil walked in, and noticed you two.

“Hello Rook, prefect. I trust you two were able to go over the alchemy topics? Crewel said you needed some help,” Vil looked at you, expression unreadable. “He asked me if I could help, but I’d already scheduled a photoshoot beforehand. I do wish I could’ve been there, though.”

“Quelle sympathie mon roi!” Rook started, hand on his chest. “Such benevolence and dutifulness truly befits that of the Queen herself! With your skill in potions and poisons alike, the prefect would pass Crewel’s class with flying colors under your tutelage!”

You laughed to yourself as Vil smiled, shaking his head at Rook’s antics. “I’ll head back to Ramshackle then, thanks for everything Rook,” you smiled at the hunter. You turned to collect your things from the table, and after bidding the pair goodbye and goodnight, you trekked back to Ramshackle with Rook who insisted on walking you back.

As you walked, Rook regaled you with tales of the Queen and her Huntsman, and at some point began reciting poetry after becoming so impassioned. You waited patiently, and as you neared the dorm he sighed. “One day, I wish to become as great a huntsman as he!” Rook closed his eyes, taking off his hat and clutching it to his chest.

You gave a small laugh, but your thoughts turned to your dream from earlier. “Something tells me you’re practically him already.”

———

Ok so ik that the wishing part should technically be Neige’s/Prince Florian’s part

but then I remembered that Florian had a hat with a feather in it and so does rook

And then I connected the dots and made this.

Also theater kid rook needs some time to shine too tbh and he canonically bursts into song according to Trey! What a guy lmao

Anyway thanks for reading this far, Epel’s part isn’t too far away! <3 thank you all for the support!!

#twisted wonderland #rook hunt #twst rook #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst rook hunt #twst yuu #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #calcified writing

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dragonrider9905 · 1 month

Text

Racing Heart

Chapter 2

(Part 1)(Part 2)

Summery: You catch up with the Batch at last...and you can finally learn the truth about Tech and what he feels for you. Warning: Angst with a happy ending; jealousy; feelings of anxiety.

You pulled the drop of your hood further down to obscure your face and swirled the contents of your drink. The colors spinned and turned but refused to be mixed. The blue and purple layers were separated by a yellow one and when you turned the liquid about, it created a fascinating illusion. The lights were dim in the bar where you sat, but the illumination behind the bar created just enough light to throw beams into your glass. The ice cubes caught and increased the colors. It was a good thing it was all the entertainment you needed because you’d been sitting there a long time.

“Can you please stop that? You’re making me dizzy.” Your companion grumpily slurred.

He was bent over the counter, same as you, but his eyes darted to and fro, expertly and unsuspiciously. He turned his glass more gently, as if he were a connoisseur trying to decide how he felt about it. You didn’t understand how he could be so cool and act like he’d belong in any setting. You admired it. You wished you possessed the same amazing tactics but you didn’t. You were easier to read than a book. If it wasn’t for him, you'd have been spotted sooner than a sore thumb a long time ago. You’d been seen as you were, lost and far from home in a big and threatening galaxy full of scary beings. You were good with facts and figures. Data and books and computers. Dealing with people wasn’t really your forte.

Of course all that time in the field refined his talents but it was a talent nevertheless. In fact, if Crosshair hadn’t insisted on taking over at Safa Toma, you would have begged him to.

You and Crosshair walked into the Safa Toma Speedway like you owned the place. The glare and saunter were natural to him, but for you, well, it was less so. Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“Could you look any more phony? I asked you not to stand out. Your glare looks like you’re going to combust. Literally screaming “ask me, I have a secret”. Just relax and think about the time Wrecker spilled spaghetti sauce all over that white uniform of yours right before the decoration ceremony, and you had to wear that ridiculous looking jacket that didn’t match your pants in front of the entire assembly.”

You scowled at the memory and your face heated producing a fine, red blush. You’d had to wear your oil stained brown pants from helping Tech upgrade the Marauder with a spare gray uniform jacket. They didn’t match in the slightest, but were the only things you had in the closet as your spare uniform was dry-cleaning after your latest mission. You were the only one out of the ten receiving metals to look that ridiculous. Wrecker apologized profusely and Tech assured you no one seemed to notice. Maybe he hadn’t, but others certainly did. You were completely and utterly humiliated.

“Precisely, look annoyed and follow my lead. You’ll be fine. Try crossing your arms. Usually does something for me.”

You huffed a laugh and the corners of your mouth turned up.

“Wipe that smile off your face.”

“Why? Can’t smiles be just as menacing?”

“Not yours. Yours are always too sweet.”

You had to figure out if that was a compliment or an insult or both.

“Ooookaaaayyyy.”

“Am I detecting a high level of sass?”

You tried hard not to smile, but a chuckle came out anyway.

“And they say I’m the difficult one.” Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Just don’t say anything. And try not to look like a lost puppy.”

You arrived at the apartment said to be Millegi’s, the sponsor for the racer named Venim, to test your theory about his association with ‘Cid’. Considering he responded with your cryptic message by saying he’d meet you. You were pretty sure you were correct.

Upon entering the finley furnished apartment, you saw Millegi sat reclined on his sofa, a hint of malicious humor on his face. He cut right to business just as you suspected.

“I hear you’re looking for Cid. What do you want with her?”

Crosshair put on his coldest face and crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s say I have unfinished business with her, and I hear you know how to find her.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I know powerful people, and trust me, I’ll make sure you disappear so fast, you’d wish I’d gifted you with death.”

And that’s how you found yourselves sitting in Cid’s bar. Waiting. Forever. Waiting for the runaways to return home. The longer you waited the more you wished you hadn't come. You didn’t know if dreaming about this moment and wishing so hard it hurt was better than the actual waiting because right here, right now, reality was happening. In your dreams you’d run to Tech and he’d wrap his arms around you and everything would be happy and fine. You could control the outcome. Everything would turn out how you planned no matter the scenario.

This was the unknown. You didn’t know what would happen. And to top it off, what would happen, would be final. No more alternate scenarios. No more differing factors. You didn’t know if Tech would even be happy to see you. What if he didn’t even remember you?!? Despite Crosshair’s assurances and annoyance at something that should be obvious (which was honestly more comforting than the assurances) the familiar anxiety bubbled in your stomach and you felt the bile rise in your throat. Unconsciously, your knee started bouncing against the chair.

“Hunter’ll hear that all the way from the space port.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“This isn’t exactly an easy moment for me, either.”

Your knee stopped bouncing and regret seeped into your bones.

“I’m so sorry, Crosshair. I haven’t been considerate. I’ve been so focused on myself and my problems…” You sighed and looked down. “I’ve done so much wrong.” You ran your fingers through your hair, trying not to disturb the cloak too much. “I can’t even seem to do right by my friends. You deserved so much more consideration. Your step took more courage than mine; and I haven’t expressed enough how grateful I am that you came with me.”

“You’ve expressed it almost every day since we left.”

You shrugged. “I am grateful. I just want all of us together again, the way it should be. But this waiting is unbearable. Not knowing how they’ll accept us is the worst part. I mean, you’re they’re brother. You’re more likely to be wanted than me.”

“Don’t count on it after our last meeting. Not to mention what I’ve done since.”

“Crosshair—” You’d been over this so many times with him. Thinking of different ways to defend him but he was obstinate in his self-loathing.

“Save it.”

Crosshair glared but the ice melted when he saw the hurt in your eyes. He sent an apology look, not able to find the words he wanted to say, and not even knowing exactly what to say. But spending weeks with Crosshair on the run, you’d learn how to communicate with him this way. You felt you knew him on a whole new level and could talk without words.

You wished you could still say the same about Tech.

Then a noise caught your attention. The three patrons who’d been second-handedly annoying the both of you for the past few hours excitedly welcomed someone.

“Well look who’s back!” the one you ascertained was Bolo, said.

“Hey, when are we getting another dejarik game! It’s been pretty boring without you.” the one named Ketch added.

The female pirate by the identity of ‘Phee’ spoke next. You’d been listening to her stories and they seemed too fantastical to be true, but they were entertaining to listen to while you waited. You thought Crosshair’s eyes would get stuck behind his skull with how often he rolled his eyes while she spoke, claiming he had better ‘real’ stories. But he must have enjoyed them enough because he kept listening and making off-handed comments.

“Well look who it is, if it isn’t my favorite group of clones.”

You peaked in the direction to see the Bad Batch file in and try to scoot past the overly excited, ‘bored’ patrons. Probably to talk to Cid if they had just gotten done with a job.

“Limping again, Brown eyes? You really ought to be more careful.” Phee put her hand on Tech’s shoulder and you almost lurched at the hint of softness in her voice. He had found someone after all. In the corner of your eye, you saw Crosshair give you a sympathetic look but you refused to meet his gaze.

“Maybe this was a dumb idea.”

“No.” Crosshair said sternly. You looked up to meet his eyes and saw a kind earnestness in them. “No it wasn’t. No matter how this ends, what they say, we’re out of the Empire and that’s all that counts. I have you to thank for that.”

You smiled faintly. “We could always trek out on our own. I have the brains and you have…well everything else.”

Crosshair chuckled. “Let’s say we get this over with.”

You could only let out a breathy “Okay.”

You were aware of a hush that came over the boisterous group.

“Who are those two?” You heard Hunter stage whisper. You didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know he’d crossed his arms and was staring at the two of you.

“Dunno, they’ve been sitting there since before we came in. Long time.” Ketch said.

“Hm.”

You could bet they were sharing concerned looks among each other, trying to decide what to do. Your breathing quickened.

You heard Crosshair’s chair turn. “No one important. Just your brother and your friend.”

Okay, Crosshair, maybe not the best intro.

You stayed glued in place, not wanting to face them.

“Crosshair?” You couldn’t tell which of the brothers said that. All the world started to turn before your eyes. The blood rushed to your ears and you completely missed the exchange happening between the torn Batch. The loud fuzziness overtook all that was happening around you. You were only focused on the void, empty feeling.

Tech has someone.

“Glad you’re back, brother.” broke through the haze along with the clanking of armor. You could only guess that meant they embraced.

They wanted Crosshair back. That’s good. Maybe I should just leave quietly…

Maybe you didn’t have a place with them anymore but you did return their prodigal brother to them and that was reward enough.

Then you heard teary laughing and other clanky embraces. You heard an excited little girl squish her face into her brother’s chest or shoulder (depending on whether or not Crosshair knelt for her or not) and cry happily.

This was your chance. You moved swiftly and silently like Crosshair had shown you over the last few weeks and made your way toward the back exit. The shadows of the backroom covered you and you took one last glance where the light poured in. You saw happy faces of a reunited family. Laughing and jesting and happy, relieved tears were poured out. Just the way they should be; you felt a smile growing on your face. Yes, all was well.

You turned to leave with that last happy memory.

You made your way out the back door and out the alley toward the front entrance and slowly started to make your way to a spaceport to book a passage with the fake ID you made. You had a few credits left. You could get by on them until you thought of what to do next.

The day was ending and the world was alive. The day-timers were heading home from work and the night-shifters were getting up and going to their posts…or bars. Wherever they kept vigil. That wasn’t for you to know or care. The sun was setting and giving off the most beautiful orange…

You heard your name and you turned around surprised. You knew who the voice belonged to and a part of you wondered if you were dreaming. There would be no way Tech was actually chasing you, could there be?

You saw him bobbing in the crowd, looking about frantically. You’ve never seen him so scattered. He called your name again, louder, more frantic. If you had half a brain left, you would have answered. But you were tired, numb, and heartbroken. Your feet hurt and you didn’t know if you could face him. Instead of leaving quietly or approaching him, you stood there with your mouth agape, watching as if this were a holofilm and you were not the main character on the screen. You couldn’t be the main character. You’d plain forgotten your lines.

Your feet decided to move without your brain’s permission. You didn’t know if you were going to go toward Tech or turn away, and you never found out because in that moment, Tech spotted you and your eyes locked. He smiled a full smile and pushed through the moving masses toward you and was by your side in an instant.

“Mesh’la, you’re here! You’re here!” Tech excitedly said. There was a dancing fire in his eyes and a laugh on his lips. “I can’t believe my calculations, you’re here!” Before another moment passed, you were wrapped in a hug. His arms came around you and brought you close to his chest. He lowered his head so it was resting on yours, then stayed silent for so long it started to worry you. Tech was never silent.

“Tech.” Your voice cracked from how dry it was.

He parted and cupped your face.

“Mesh’la.”

You felt your whole face on fire and you couldn’t look Tech in the eye. Your ears were pink to the tips. You knew what that word meant. He couldn’t possibly mean it. Did Crosshair put him up to this?

“What?” Tech looked taken aback and slightly hurt.

Woops, must have said that part out loud.

You cleared your throat. “Did Crosshair…I mean…” tears filled your eyes and you sighed. You tried to look anywhere but him but his hand, though gentle, was firm and held your head in place. Besides, you were loath to lose the contact just yet. “Crosshair knew…so I was wondering if he sent you…told you to…”

“Crosshair knew what? Told me to?” He repeated.

You took in a deep breath and held it. You’d say it fast.

“Crosshair knew that I loved you and was searching for you forever and when I saw you racing I knew I could find you and really wanted to find you so I decided to trust him to see if he wanted to come and we left the Empire together to find you. You’re a good racer, that was good racing.” You let out the rest of the air in a heavy sigh. One breath.

Tech smiled. “You were searching for me?”

You tried to look at your shoes. “Yes.” Your voice was so small but that was all you had left.

“You love me?”

“Yes!” That was a little more vehement and you rolled your eyes. You had a transport to catch. If he didn’t mind, you really had to get going. “It KILLED me when I thought you were dead. I didn’t know…”

He leaned in closer to your ear.

“I love you too.”

You let out a sob and pressed your face into his chest. Your heart felt like it exploded and adrenaline rushed through your veins and you started to feel dizzy. Your muscles relaxed and the tired, achiness returned, reminding you you needed to rest. Tech felt the extra weight and shifted to support you. But your happiness was replaced with confusion.

“But…your girlfriend? How can you love me if you have a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Tech sounded so surprised you had to look him in the face. His eyebrow was up in a quizzical form. The one he always made when he was drawing a blank. You loved this expression because it was so rare, and he could never replicate it when he tried at your request. It was a look of complete honesty. You almost laughed at the hope your heart started to thud to.

“Phee, the pirate woman…”

“She is most definitely not my girlfriend. Did she say she was? Or did you draw that conclusion from her rather flirtatious greeting?”

“Maybe I did have incomplete data.”

“Did you notice I did not address the flirtations?”

“No…my mind was too busy reeling.”

Tech smiled again, but this time mischievously.

“What if I give you a better subject for you to meditate on?”

He leaned in and kissed you. Softly and perfectly. You broke it first.

“We’ll have to continue later.” You chuckled, “I can’t stop smiling.” You rested your head against his chest and heaved a relieved sigh.

“I agree, we shall have to continue this exercise later.”

You laughed and started back toward the bar. Tech limped after you and your smile turned upside down. You hadn't noticed before. He moved with such urgency and swiftness. It had to hurt.

“You’re limping.”

“Yes, I had a misfortunate accident on the last mission.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“No it’s not. Let me have a look.” You returned to his side and brought Tech’s arm around your neck so he could lean on you for support. “Where’s your ship? Do you have any ice for me to help bring down the swelling, or should I run back to Cid’s real quick to get the ice then bring you to the ship or…”

You were cut off by Tech’s chuckle. “We have the necessary supplies on the ship. That way.” He nudged his head in the right direction, but his gaze remained on you. It sparkled with all the love and adoration you never thought you’d see aimed toward yourself from the goggled eyes. Your heart swelled and your lips radiated that happiness with the biggest smile you’ve ever made. You were where you were meant to be. You were home at last.

Dividers by @djarrex and @ve-ti-ver

#the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb omega #star wars the bad batch #tech x reader #tech #tech x you #tech and reader #tech x female reader #tbb tech x reader

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yuri-is-online · 16 days

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TD anon here, I do feel you on the "torture" scene with Taiga, I didn't want my last ask getting any longer lmao.

While the scene definitely made me squeal, for me personally it was undercut by the emotionally charged scene that happened immediately after with Romeo lmao. It's exactly how I felt with Frostheim too, being excited over the dance with Jin, and then immediately after we get the cigarette kiss scene with Jin and Tohma LOL. But it only makes sense, MC has only just showed up at the school, not enough time to bond, and honestly with these kinds of joseimuke games I don't have much expectations of interactions between the cast and MC so in TD she's already much more involved with the whole comic thing anyways.

Eating the Like Dove raw... was really a raw scene lol. He seems to be attracted to blood for some reason? Since he paused when MC's cut started bleeding, I think he was about to lick the blood tbh.

And yeah I do wonder if his shoddy memory has anything to do with his deal's cost. Another vibe theory time, I feel like his fear of the Like Dove might've been... ingrained in him somehow? Maybe he had a run-in before but can't remember it. The reason why I think this is because when MC met him alone, when she reminded him that she was the Honor student, his response was "Oh no wonder I didn't kill you on the spot", he literally forgot about her but his body/instinct made him aware she's someone he's not supposed to kill.... if that makes sense?

He feels like an even bigger enigma than Towa, I'm curious to know what's going on in his head in the moments he goes eerily quiet. Not to mention he's the poster boy of the game, has to be a reason. Luca feels more in line to be the poster boy but it's Taiga...

I enjoyed Haru's drunk spiel about how helpful MC is lol. Also my eyes going wide when Rui said he wants to know what she's made of too... what does that mean....... I need more Rui content, I love his blatant flirtations lol. I got a campus event with Rui, Haru and Romeo in the bar before I even read the chapter, their unexpected friendship is very cute ngl.

(sorry in case this is sent repeatedly, smth wrong with my net atm)

Generally speaking I have found tumblr doesn't post or send things twice but it sure as hell reblogs them with the same tags 42 times making me look like some sort of freak

for me personally it was undercut by the emotionally charged scene that happened immediately after

Yeah I get this. The cigarette kiss with Tohma and Jin took me off guard, but that was mostly because I thought this was an otome game? Come to think of it I don't think we've had confirmation of the whole joseimuke v otome game thing beyond the existence of the like dove and individual character affinity... Well and that when this was announced it was supposed to be an otome game. I know that the otome games subreddit has been having some, shall we say spirited? Discussions lately about how players feel about ros getting into relationships with each other. The general opinion was that a lot of times the ro x ro relationships feel more fleshed out that the ro x mc ones, and I agree. I actually stopped writing something I wanted to be an otome game because the story started shaping up to be more about the mc's mentor than them, and I personally do not think that is very fun. People do like laid back mcs, they do not like mcs who have no place in the narrative, and some writers aren't good at balancing that. TDB mc is doing pretty well when it comes to interactions with the main cast compared to something like Twisted Wonderland if what you want is explicit romance, so far it feels like Season 1 of og Obey Me! from what I remember of that game, so we'll see.

I didn't get the same level of intimacy from Romeo and Taiga as I did Jin and Tohma? But I think that's because in both cases I thought the like dove had appeared before Romeo got there and was talking to Taiga and the second scene made me think Taiga was angry at him for interrupting his "fun." Whatever that "fun" was going to wind up being because yeeeeeah he seems like he has a blood kink of some sort. I think he was going to suck on it and bite her a bit, but licking seems like a logical first step and less influenced by what's wrong with me. Like I said over here the scene with the Like Dove fascinates me... it says more about Taiga than any other character in the game that we get to see the dove twice and that when given the chance he shoots and eats it... if that isn't a metaphor for denial and emotional repression then I am not sure what is.

he literally forgot about her but his body/instinct made him aware she's someone he's not supposed to kill…. if that makes sense?

YES. I wanted to talk about this but it sort of got into conspiracy theory territory and my answer was getting long. I don't know if anyone remembers, but waaaay back in Book 1 when mc tries to escape the school she isn't able to get anyone's attention. It's like they don't see her, is that because of her curse or is it because of preventative measures put in place by the school? I want to lean towards the latter because it makes more sense BUT I also want to be delusional and say that it's part of mc's curse. There's something about Taiga's instinctual fear of the Like Dove and his comments to the mc that make me think his body knows her but his paranoia and memory issues keep him from knowing it.

This is just me writing fan fic... but Taiga is technically the first ghoul you meet. He is the poster boy of the game, he is the first person to bring mc into the main loop and tell her there's a spy. I want so badly for him to have known her at some point but to have been robbed of his memories... Romeo seems to think he is trying to forget stuff on purpose "gone off the deep end" and "escape reality" are both things he says to describe him though granted that last one was due to a misunderstanding about what Taiga was trying to do with the anomaly. Something real bad happened last year, something I feel like Taiga doesn't want to acknowledge unless he can get revenge on whoever caused it. I mentioned in another post, but I sort of want MC to have something to do with Clementia and that's why she's there at the dorm beyond it just being empty due to the clash. (I do get why Luca isn't the poster boy; he's not a dorm captain and those seem to be what the game wants to push. well them and towa lol)

Haru and Rui

Rui is a bar tender who is described as being "popular with the female students" probably because of how flirty he is ha. I love his dynamic with Haru and Romeo, just a barman and his two favorite customers shooting the shit and trying to relax. Rui is cursed to kill whoever he touches, so I think he wants to talk with MC more because he can relate to her in a very unique way. And he got gate kept from doing so by Haku in book one so he's extra curious now. I have his SR so I'll put him on my homescreen for a bit and see what voice lines I can shake out of him. For the little bit I did have him there he called him and mc "curse twins" which I thought was very cute. In a dark sort of way. The entire section at the Obscuary bar endeared me to all three of those idiots.

But especially Haru. He called Peekaboo his child this chapter too ;-; he's such a good dad. I wonder if he is going to show up next books at all? Or if it's going to be like the previous books and we'll instead see Taiga and maaaaybe Towa? Since he's friends with Zenji. Nothing to do but wait for May 0-0

#<3 asks #tokyo debunker #td anon #hotarubi anon??? art thou the same?#taiga hoshibami #tdb #rui mizuki #haru sagara

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skribblezcorner · 22 days

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY EVERYBODY!!!!!

heres a new fic im working on where Sanji gets his tongue pierced on a dare. it’s zosan ofc but that part comes a little later ✨✨ enjoy the three lines i have written thanks

__________

Ah, shit, is the first thing Sanji thinks when he wakes up, sprawled across the deck and surrounded by his snoring crewmates.

There's a headache pounding ferociously behind his eyes, and he’s still wearing the same clothes he had on last night. Speaking of, he can’t seem to remember last night. It’s not an uncommon occurrence for the entire crew to get piss-drunk and pass out on the Sunny’s lawn (They’re pirates, for god’s sake), but Sanji has never been this disoriented when he wakes up the next morning.

Warmed by the few rays of sun peeking through the morning clouds, he staggers up and picks his way through all the bodies on the floor. He takes a a moment to stretch, and when he yawns, he feels a twinge of pain in his mouth. Strange, but Sanji doesn’t really have the metal capacity to worry about anything right now. He drags his feet to the bathroom to brush his teeth before he gets started on breakfast.

Upon entering the bathroom, he makes the astute observation that he looks like shit. His hair is greasy and sticking up in places, he only has on one shoe, and three buttons are missing from the only casual shirt he owns. In addition, some of his stubble is growing back- he really needs to shave. Great. He sighs and finds his toothbrush from the many scattered all over the sink’s counter. He puts on a pea-sized amount of toothpaste, looks back up at the mirror and opens his mouth, and-

He screams.

—

Usopp is the first one is the first one to come running inside, bleary-eyed and mumbling something along the lines of “What? What happened!?”

Once Sanji turns toward him though, all of his concern immediately disappears and he starts laughing. Hysterically.

Sanji would threaten him to shut the fuck up, but he literally can't. He can barely even move his face now because his tongue has blown up like a fucking balloon inside of his mouth around what looks like a shiny silver bar. In short, Sanji has a fucking piercing. In his mouth. Why, or how, he has no idea- but it looks like Usopp does.

“Oh my god,” Usopp manages between cackles, the fucker he is, “You- stay, just-” he dissolves back into a fit of laughter and rushes out of the room. This leaves Sanji staring at the door with a dripping toothbrush and still no explanation.

After a few minutes, Usopp comes back with a cameko in his hands. “Just know, i had no part in this. In fact, I was sleeping. Yes, sleeping- I was so tired, you know…”

Sanji levels him with a blank stare. “Yeah…” Usopp stammers, “Okaytakethisbye!” He pushes the snail into Sanji’s hands and then scrambles out again.

Sanji looks down at the cameko in his hands, turning it around to the compartment on it’s back. He flips out the screen to the last recorded video, and presses play.

__________

hope you liked this little snippet!!!! the rest will (HOPEFULLY) be coming iut in the next two weeks, so watch out for that!!!

#one piece #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #stupid things you do while drunk #zosan #TONGUE PIERCING #taz skylar made it canon i’m just fulfilling my duties #one piece usopp #save me usopp #wip wednesday #current wip

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mylordshesacactus · 3 months

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LOVE, WATER, FIRE

What is your best writing advice?

"Show don't tell" doesn't mean what you think it does. Learn it better, and free yourself from a half-understood mnemonic.

When you show, you slow. Learn THAT one backward and forward as well; it won't fix pacing issues overnight, but it'll help you understand what causes them.

Writing fanfiction? Go back to the source material FREQUENTLY, or you'll lose all sense of the characters and end up writing someone unrecognizable.

If you struggle to block out action sequences, genuine advice? Think in terms of combat rounds in D&D. Not literally, of course, nobody should be taking rigorous turns, but: Play out the action in your head. If six seconds have gone by, everyone in this sequence should have done something. That thing could be charging into melee range--noting that this extra combatant is running toward the fight but hasn't gotten there yet. It could be reloading a weapon. It could be clutching their side in shock and wheezing. They don't need to be Selecting A Combat Action, but fight scenes become incoherent when you lose track of who's doing what. When you forget about Goon #3 and then have him show up again doing something that doesn't remotely track with where you last left him. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO INCLUDE THEM IN THE NARRATION if they're not important! If two seconds ago your protagonist kicked a guy off the dock, we can safely assume they'll spend at least the next several "combat rounds" climbing back out. But at any given moment, YOU should know where everyone is, what they're doing, and why.

But most importantly:

Anyone purporting to give The End-All Be-All Writing Advice is either delusional or a scam. Yes, including or perhaps especially famous bestselling authors. What works for them won't necessarily work for you, and there are plenty of people who don't even like their work. You're never going to be whoever's advice you try to mimic. Write your stuff, not theirs.

Do you prefer urban fantasy or high fantasy?

Yes!

Genuinely though. They're both good and they both serve their respective narratives in some way. In general I'm more drawn to high fantasy, personally, but I'm never not going to be interested in a well-done urban fantasy.

Pedantic nitpick though, these things are not the opposites they are being portrayed as. I think what the question was GOING for was actually "low vs high fantasy" which is a completely separate concept. Words mean things! But also, I'm not an ass, and the intent was pretty clear.

(High Fantasy: This story is set in a completely separate world from ours, with no crossover into our known and lived reality. ANY completely separate world, regardless of technology level! STAR WARS IS HIGH FANTASY. This is not an opinion, this is a genre fact.

Low Fantasy: The story is set partially in our world or includes crossover or other intrinsic connections to a realistic world that follows the same rules and expectations of our world. Isekai and portal fantasies like Narnia fall into this category, as do hidden-world/veiled-magic fantasies like the Bad Wizard Lady Books, Percy Jackson, and Artemis Fowl; and also a lot of true-anthropomorphic fiction like Watership Down, Warriors, etc. Note that "low fantasy" does NOT mean "gritty" fantasy or fantasy that focuses on the lower classes instead of nobles, nor does it mean a low-magic pseudo-medieval setting

Urban Fantasy: A story with fantasy tropes and themes that takes place in an urban setting. Can be low or high fantasy!)

What is the worst thing you've ever created?

Okay so this one time in high school me and my best friend Sam were trying to make lemon bars at his house and to this day we do NOT know what the hell ingredient we neglected to add to the lemon bars

but given the state of the results, there is a non-zero chance that the ingredient we forgot was flour.

#askmeme #not today satan I do not shittalk my work #i learn from it

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britcision · 11 months

Text

Listen I can’t finish it tonight but I’m real real close but next week is gonna be buuuuuuusy so chapter 15 is right on the line of done and we’ll see if I get it up before next Wednesday 👀

If I do, we may not have a WIP Wednesday next week so again, we shall see

This week, have second place from the poll, Waylon and Danny!

————————

I’ll Take The Highway part vi

Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.

Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.

And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.

He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.

If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.

But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.

Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.

Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.

Didn’t mean he had a good answer.

He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.

This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.

So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.

“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.

Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.

“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”

His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.

“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.

Waylon chuckled and shook his head.

“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”

Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.

Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”

Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.

“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.

Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.

“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”

Lines like being a cannibal.

Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference not a need.

For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.

Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.

Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.

“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”

He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.

The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.

Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.

He’d come to a decision. Good for him.

“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.

“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.

Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.

——————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor r @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

#dp x dc #wip wednesday #danny fenton dead and loving it #dead on main ship #chapter 15 part vi #danny x jason #but today we talk about waylon #my good good boy

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storiesofsvu · 11 months

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Weird ask ig idk

What would the characters from criminal minds greys anatomy specialties be/ who would be friends with who?

not weird at all nonny! we love a good crossover! shout out to @swimmingstudentchaos891 for talking through this with me!

Starting off with some of the one that instantly came to me;

Garcia: She's in dermatology. We all know she doesn't like the ick and gruesome of crime scenes, so she wants to stay away from all the blood and gore of surgery. And the ep when they discover the derm floor? it's all happy and calm and rainbows and sunshine and I just think she would fit in well there!

Spencer: he's nuero. It just makes sense, he's super smart, with his memory would be able to excel in that field. While schizophrenia is a mental illness it's still likely the most linked to neurological and that's gonna be a big motivation there too.

Tara: girl's ortho. Don't ask me why. She just is. She's the one out of all of them I think would love breaking bones the most. She can't help but feel cocky when the big football players come in with dislocated shoulders and they're all manly about it until she's shoving it back into place and they're screaming like babies. She'd also be so soft and so good with kids who come in who fell off the monkey bars or something.

Alex Blake: psych. I think that's pretty self explanatory. she'd excel there, or possibly be the hospital's therapist cause lord knows those dr's need fucking help. lol

Emily: Cardio god. She just has that power and you know she's the cocky, sometimes the god complex comes out. She'd be incredible. (she'd also be the McSteamy of this universe but less of a dick, and with a bigger dick. i don't make the rules)

Hotch: he's gonna be chief, or like, the head of the resident program thing. Something similar to Webber. He just has the upper level authority that people respect.

JJ: pediatrics. She's so good and soft with the tiny humans. If she hadn't fully decided on a specialty it was after having Henry that she realized she wanted to be able to help kids and she's super good with keeping parents calm.

Morgan: Hear me out. He's either an EMT or a nurse. Cause we all need a hot boi nurse in our lives. Or he's the super hot emt that rolls up with ambulances and just knows all the nurses are heart eyed for him. He flashes that cocky grin, sticks around for a coffee, little flirt master.

Rossi: i came up blank, but Lu says optometry so I agree. He's probably just around doing consults and hanging out, not as much surgery anymore. Still a published author but this time medical books, has a plethora of knowledge when the younger dr's are looking for something specific in a medical journal.

Luke: I've put him down for trauma. I think he'd be able to do that really well, his experience in the field, he's quick on his feet, not afraid to improvise kinda thing.

As for who'd be friends with whom and other little headcanons, I don't have much because there's SO many characters on Grey's and it's been a while since i've watched it (this ask literally made me restart s2, so i might have more thoughts as I go through LOL)

-Garcia and Arizona are absolutely gonna be besties. They both love all things fun and pink and adorable.

-Spencer and Lexi are 1000% going to find a bff in each other. They've both kinda grown up the "weird" kid who graduated super early and shit, so they've finally found someone else who's like them and the same age.

-Rossi is going to find himself immediately adopting the Deluca siblings. At first it's just because he hears them arguing in Italian and is able to cut in and calm them down but after he hears about their dad/family dynamics he's just all "nope, i am your papa pasta now"

-Spencer & Meredith are going to have some dark and twisty bonding over their mothers and how trying to help them is honestly exhausting and draining but they're gonna keep doing it and trying to find cures/treatments.

-Rossi and Luke are going to have some form of boding with Teddy and Owen over their various times serving and the trauma/ptsd and shit that comes with that.

There's probably SO much else i could get into but that's all I've got for now. Loved the ask! Love shit like this! thank you nonny!

#grey's anatomy #criminal minds #grey's anatomy x criminal minds #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #meredith grey #david rossi

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eldritchamy · 1 year

Note

WAIT hold on hi abt the tags on the post about terfs being stupid about periods you reblogged - does HRT really end up causing similar hormone change cycles to periods? i've never heard abt that before and it's kind of boggling my mind because on the one hand why WOULDN'T HRT do that but on the other hand why WOULD it?

So keep in mind I am not an expert on the subject and everything I’m about to tell you is for the purpose of introducing you to the subject matter.

The short answer is yes. And it’s not similar to periods. It’s EXACTLY periods. Caused by the exact same hormones interacting with the body in the exact same way.

So yes it does happen, and it happens because a period doesn’t come from a uterus. It comes from the hypothalamus. A uterus is just the organ most noticeably affected by it. A uterus is not necessary whatsoever to experience period symptoms.

Everyone has a hypothalamus. It’s just a little thing in your brain that does some endocrine/hormone stuff. Under the right hormone conditions, ANYONE can have period symptoms. Not everyone can bleed because you need uterine lining tissue for that (some amab intersex people do! I’ve read at least one account from an amab person who found out they were intersex BECAUSE they had a small amount of uterine lining in their rectum which caused monthly bleeding when they hit puberty).

But literally every other period symptom is fair game.

And yes, that sucks.

If you want quick links to some sources I’ve read about the subject without clicking through for my rambling bullshit, here:

Yes, Trans Women Can Get Period Symptoms (2016)

Cycle Dynamic - Why Trans Women Can Have Periods (2018)

If you DO want my rambling bullshit, buckle up because I’m Very Normal when I find a subject interesting.

The background fact you need to understand the rest of this is that the human body doesn’t actually HAVE separate “versions” of anything for ‘male’ and ‘female’ bodies (I may be using these terms more liberally than they should really be used for ease of reading, but for the record the gender binary is bullshit, which is the point of where this is going). Even a penis is just a modified clitoris. It’s not an analogous structure. It’s literally the exact same organ. (And it does change in response to hormones).

The human body is just the human body. It decides how it behaves based on chemistry, not genetics. There are CERTAIN STAGES OF DEVELOPMENT (namely embryonic/EARLY fetal and puberty) in which major diversions in form and function happen. And of those embryonic is faaaaaaar more significant because it’s what sets the harder to change things (primary sex characteristics) in place. Most secondary sex characteristics can be changed later just by changing the hormone chemistry of your body, which is the entire principle behind why HRT is possible.

At no point ever in the entire span of a human life cycle does anything like “oh okay, you have a BOY hypothalamus :) enjoy :)” happen. You just have the same hypothalamus as everyone else, barring medical conditions.

SO. Basically how it works is your hypothalamus knows how much estrogen is in your body at any given time, and if it notices a spike in that level, it says to itself, “OH SHIT! WE HAVE A MATURE EGG! Time to MAKE SOME CHANGES.”

Your hypothalamus does not know or care whether you have a uterus. It only responds to the estrogen cycle.

Both cis and trans women (and anyone else who either has a working uterus or takes an estrogen supplement, but again, using simple language to get the ideas across) have estrogen cycles.

In CIS women, the estrogen cycle is internal and based on ovulation. TL;DR, your ovaries release different amounts of estrogen throughout the cycle based on the maturity of an egg cell.

In TRANS women, the estrogen cycle is external because we get our estrogen from pills or injections instead of from ovaries, and it’s based on how your body metabolizes that medication. You usually get a big hit around the time you get the dosage and then it tapers off until you take the next dose. Back to this in a second.

IN EITHER CASE, your hypothalamus tracks those changes and responds to them by releasing the period hormones (GnRH (Gonadotropin-Releasing Hormone), FSH (Follicle Stimulating Hormone), LH (Leutinizing Hormone)) at a certain point in that cycle. When your hypothalamus feels that estrogen spike, it doesn’t CARE where that estrogen came from because it’s not its JOB to know where the estrogen came from. It only cares that it’s there. And you have the exact same hypothalamus no matter what genitals you have.

This next bit is speculation on my part based on experience and anecdotal evidence, but it seems like the greater and more predictable the VARIATION over the course of that cycle, the easier it is for your hypothalamus to be like “AHA! NOW!” and keep you on a regular cycle. Trans women who take INJECTIONS, which are on a much longer release schedule than pills, tend to experience more ups and downs in their estrogen levels and more noticeable, and regular, period symptoms. FOR ME, I’ve only ever been on pills, at a few different dosages. Earlier on I noticed that for (surprise) about 3 to 5 days every month, I would get all kinds of symptoms like headaches, backaches, joint aches, muscle aches, irritability, mood swings, depressive episodes, odd cravings (usually just crunchy and salty but sometimes really specific things), bloating, cramps (yes really), gastrointestinal stuff, etc. I suspect, with no evidence either way, that these symptoms were mild, but I’ve heard other trans women describe their symptoms as much less severe than mine, so idk.

ALSO earlier on, I used to take all of my pills at once, one time per day. I noticed something interesting when I switched to splitting my dosage and taking half twice a day: a huge reduction in severity and regularity of period symptoms. My levels are a lot more consistent throughout the day now, and I guess my hypothalamus can no longer sense a spike in my levels. (It used to be ESPECIALLY severe when I ran out and it took a few days to get my prescriptions refilled, cause then I had an estrogen crash (which gives you symptoms of menopause and wow THAT’S a wild ride, hot flashes are the actual worst) followed by a spike when I got back on them and almost always would have a super noticeable period within days of this happening).

So when I started spreading my dosage throughout the day, I basically made my hypothalamus too confused to know when to release those hormones. Either that or it thinks I’m pregnant. I’m not sure.

Coming back from that tangent.

It is a VERY KNOWN THING that when you take estrogen INJECTIONS, you need to work with your doctors a bit to figure out the exact dosage and timing that works best for you, because a lot of the time what happens with that is you’ll experience pretty severe dysphoria and depression symptoms in the days leading up to your next injection, and if this describes the experience of anyone you know, congrats, that’s PMDD (pre-menstrual dysphoric disorder), and you need your injections to be a few days closer together to prevent those symptoms. It’s literally your body experiencing an estrogen crash because your last dose wore off too long before you got the next one. This is also more common in people who take Progesterone.

The long and short of what happens when your hypothalamus registers an estrogen spike is that it releases the period hormones, which basically among other things go down to your abdomen and say W̶̫̬̒I̶̧̬̤͛Ĝ̴̦͆̽G̴̢̞̈́L̴̩͖̂E̷͇̲̊͐̀. And if you have a uterus, all that wiggling is what makes your uterus cramp up and squeeze out its lining and start bleeding. It ALSO has the delightful side effect of not really caring enough to target the uterus specifically, so it also makes your INTESTINES start cramping up and squeezing themselves, so fun fact that’s where period shits come from if you have those.

Everybody say “thank you, hypothalamus.”

So yeah that’s why it happens. The TL;DR is blame the hypothalamus. The human body is differentiated by chemistry not chromosomes. Put the right chemistry in place and you can absolutely get periods.

And yes, they suck for us too.

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