#and its just kind of shaken me up a bit

[depressedzelda]

u know when u overthink shit and ur convinced something is destined to spiral into a fuckshow but you have no control over it or leaving said situation. Feeling that with this job

[eclarinet]

same soup... different day

[the-world-is-treating-me-bad]

Love when I'm reading a form I asked my doctor to fill out for me and there's a diagnosis I've never considered or asked to be assessed for just sitting there.

In other news, I have PTSD, apparently!

[stromblessed]

Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show:

[heyaheiya]

Will you write something about single dad bakugo falling in love with his child’s daycare teacher and her or them feeling the same 🥺🥺 -🦕

Sorry this took so long 😭😭

— — — — — —

Katsuki didn’t plan on ever getting into a relationship again; just him and his darling daughter was enough for him. That was until your stupid face somehow wormed its way into his mind.

His girl, Bakugou Chiyo, had been going to daycare for a few months now, but he’d never met you officially.

As much as Mitsuki loved having the little one over most weekdays, she didn’t have all the time in the world to spend babysitting. Eijirou encouraged Katsuki to enroll Chiyo and had recommended the daycare he used for his kids. Despite Katsuki’s hesitation towards it, Eijirou wouldn’t stop pestering the man to give it a chance. Something about ‘socialisation’ or whatever. Still, Katsuki put up a good fight.

“Fuck no, you know how disgusting other people’s kids are?? I don’t want Chiyo catching rabies from those things.”

“It’s expensive, I’m not exactly rich right now you know!”

“How do I know those teachers are qualified?”

“I’m sure Chiyo’s gonna hate it so what’s the bother.”

Unfortunately, Chiyo loved it, waking up early and being pretty self sufficient for a 4 and a half year old. She even packed her bag herself before bed so it was ready the next morning. Yes it was filled with just stuffed animals, and what.

“Baby, do you seriously need all of your friends? Why not pick one?”

“But they’ll be lonely :(“

Katsuki had to write out a whole schedule of which plush goes to daycare on which day. This rotation made sure the toys all got an equal amount of days.

Chiyo had been getting chattier in the recent days. Perhaps shitty hair was right about the socialisation bit… However, at dinner that night, a new name kept coming up.

“-and I was really sad. But then, Smiley came over and made it better!”

“Who’s ’Smiley’, princess?”

“Silly daddy, you see her every day at pickup!”

That was helpful. One out of the army of children he has no time to notice.

“Tell me about Smiley. She nice to you?”

“Mhm! Today she secretly gave me a chocolate from the teacher desk :D”

Alarms went off in Katsuki’s head. Chiyo’s friends with a thief. Chiyo’s gonna turn into a criminal. Chiyo’s gonna get arrested in the future. Chiyo needs to stop being friends with this ‘Smiley’ kid!!

“What??”

“Yeah. She told me not to tell anyone or she’ll get in trouble… But you won’t tell, right daddy l?”

The next day and drop off, Katsuki stomped in, all geared up in his hero suit, with a massive scowl decorating his face. Usually Mitsuki and Masaru drop the sweetheart off in the mornings, and by the end of a long work day, Katsuki doesn’t have time to chat. So other parents and teachers had basically never had a proper conversation with the man. That sure was gonna change.

“Who is this ‘Smiley’ kid??”

The receptionist looked befuddled.

“Oh no.. what did she do?”

“Nunya goddamn business. Point me to ‘er”

A shaken older hand pointed towards a young and surprisingly pretty face across the room. Must be the kids mother.

Katsuki stomped his way over to the woman. Either she shrunk back in fear of the pro hero, or his anger made him grow a few inches.

“Oi! Who do you think you are? Letting your kids behave like that? I swear, don’t give me some shi- stupid excuse!”

“I’m so sorry! Has someone been picking on Chi-Chi?”

“Chi-Chi? Seriously nicknaming a kid that doesn’t belong to you? That’s so fuc- freaking creepy.”

Chiyo yanked at her father’s pant leg a bit.

“Don’t yell at Smiley like that >:(“

Huh. Smiley.. is the teacher. Oh. A normal person would instantly apologise, but Katsuki? Pro hero Dynamight?

“What kind of relationship do you have with my daughter??”

He made you look like a child predator in front of your entire classroom, their parents, and your boss +coworkers..To say he felt bad was an understatement, the look of your terrified and embarrassed face scarring his mind for days.

Then, Chiyo came home balling her eyes out.

“Miss Smiley wasn’t there! She left me!”

Fuck. He knew what he had to do.

+81 XXX XXX XXX: Meet me at the restaurant down the street in 10.

Y/N: What the freak

When he saw you walk in, his jaw dropped. Unfortunately, you were beautiful, like the girls on the covers of magazines. However, your cute and almost squishable face quickly turned to a glare, eyes shooting lasers through his face.

It’s silent for a long time.

“This is the part where you apologise for getting me fired.”

“Right, I’m really sorry.”

…

“Look, I love Chiyo so so much. She’s a good kid and I’m sure you can tell she’s grown an attachment to me. If it’s because you or her mother feels jealous-“

“I’m single, the mother is out of the picture.”

“Oh so you just felt like being a dick?”

“Mind your language, Sensei. Wouldn’t want any kids to develop a fowl tongue.”

“I’m the reason Chiyo doesn’t have some of your key vocabulary. Watch it, Dynamight.”

“Oh I’m so scared😒”

You instantly stood up and grabbed your purse. “If you’re just here to rub salt in the wound, I think we’re done.” Fuck. Katsuki yanked you back down into your seat, eyes begging.

“No, fuck- I can’t stop fucking this up. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Wanna add another f-bomb to that statement?”

“Fuck off.”

“There we go.”

Katsuki groaned to himself, wanting to kill himself right there and then.

“I came here to apologise and fix things, but I’m stupid and can’t fucking communicate!”

“There are other swear words y’know?”

“Take me seriously.”

Your face softened slightly. You seriously thought he might cry in the middle of some random ramen restaurant.

“How do I fix this??”

“Well..”

You didn’t ask for too much really. Shopping spree (clothes, jewellery, cosmetics, skincare, shoes, hair pins, the works), official apology to everyone who was in the room at the time, get job back, and a bunch of tiramisu.

After all that, you were nothing but smiles. Then it clicked. Always smiling. Miss Smiley. Damn, that was a lazy nickname.

“Chiyo was the one who came up with ‘Miss Smiley’.”

It’s the best goddamn nickname anyone has ever made.

“Is there anything else you wanna add to that long ass list of yers???”

“Perchance..”

“Well??”

“A second date?”

— — — — — — — — — — —

This is not my best, I’m sorry 😭😭 hope you enjoyed! And requests are still open. Please, I need inspiration 🙏🙏

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

HIIII OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING. Its so comforting but also quite accurate to the character’s personality.

I wondered if u could make a part 2 of Drunk, with Adrian and the reader.

Be free with your imagination i am sure it will turn out great!

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hi anon, sorry it took me so long to answer but I had no ideas what to write for this request. 😳

My writing has changed a little since I wrote part 1 of this. Hopefully, it'll be still up to standard.

Days after the incident, Adrian was still haunted by the things he had said and might have said while inebriated. It seemed rather silly, considering you haven't mentioned anything about that night, kind as you were. However, the son of Dracula was shaken after exposing himself to you, in more ways than one.

At the memory of him practically showing his naked chest in your face whilst rambling drunkenly about his loneliness, he could feel his face warming up. He undoubtedly has that unflattering shade of pink on his right now. Adrian lifted his chin from his steepled fingers, pressing his forehead against them instead. Instead of moping behind the wooden table, he should be making dinner as he watched bits of dust dancing in the last rays of evening sun streaming through the Tudor windows.

At this moment, you're probably getting both their beds ready for the night. Pulling back the bedspread and making a fire in the fireplace. You made a habit of slipping a stem of lavender from the garden and putting it under the pillows. He can hear you fussing about it, even though you're one floor higher. The dhampir's senses were finely attuned to your every breath and every movement. It came to the point where it was torturous. He wasn't just trying to dull away the pain of his past, but these pressing feelings as well.

Damn him, again and again, he's becoming attached to people only to be left every time. No doubt you will leave too, once you're able to. He'll be nothing but a fond memory...

"How's the dinner? I hope there'll be someplace left on the stove for teap-"

He's dragged away from his gloomy thoughts by the sudden sound of your voice nearing the door. You stopped mid-sentenced when you saw him sitting at the kitchen table, instead of working at the stove. He felt an immediate pang of guilt.

"Apologies I've seem to be a bit addle-brained today."

Adrian offered an apology as he started pulling the cutlery from its hooks. Hopefully with his back turned and his hands occupied, you won't notice his rather obvious fluster.

"Ah, it's alright," you waved him off in a placating manner as you rounded the table towards him. "Head still spinning from the vine, I see." you teased him as he made a fire in the stove, almost making him set his brows on fire.

As you walked past him, you gently put your hand on his back to make him step away. A whisper of a touch, yet he was tingling all over, his heart beating irregularly.

He clutched the edges of the stove, ignoring the rising heat. It can't go on like this. He has to do something.

You prepared the dinner in relative silence. You chopped mushrooms as he prepared pastry into small pans. Soon, bulky savory tarts were pulled out of the stove. He watched you wolf down four tarts in the row, while his plate was left neglected, safe for the few pokings with the fork.

"Adrian?"

His head snapped to you at the sound of your voice. He noticed you were looking at him in concern.

"What is it? You've been spaced out for days now." It was your turn to study your plate as you mumbled, "Is it...about the kiss?"

He was definitely blushing now. Adrian took a generous gulp of water from his chalice as he contemplated his answer.

"Yes and no."

You looked at him in confusion and he sighed in resignation.

"I'm sorry...my friend. The thing is..." He caressed the grooves in the ground glass. Would she even understand? What kiss meant to him?

"There have been several attempts in my life. There have been people who stayed in this castle pretending to be my friend and then turning on me as soon as I became vulnerable."

Adrian closed his eyes momentarily, chasing away the tainted memory of their hands coiling around him like vines of a poisonous plant. The pleasure, and the pain. So, so much pain... He opened his eyes and there were your eyes, filled with some much tenderness he had to suppress the urge to look away again.

"But last night, you didn't... and you could, easily so."

"I'd never-"

"I know, I know," he gently cut you off by putting his hand over yours. Your palm was much warmer than his, dainty fingers covered completely by his long ones.

"Believe it or not, but you singlehandedly restored a great deal of my hope in humanity. What once had been destroyed..."

He hasn't allowed his mind to wander to dark places, not this time.

"I don't mean to bring up such depressing subjects. But when one leads a life such as mine, you tend to... figure some things out."

"Things?" You carefully prompted, pity overrun by curiosity at last.

Adrian smiled in a self-deprecating fashion. "Well, for example, I have now discovered that in this entire world, I only have one close friend. You are my only solace, the only person that I can talk to regularly."

There was Trevor and Sypha, of course, but they found solace in one another, something deeper than friendship. Adrian understood now, what those feelings meant. His next words were full of emotion.

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I don't know if more demons will come and I'll be forced to fight them off. I don't know if the world will end tomorrow... and that used to not bother me. I used to not mind the idea of death. To slip into the quiet sleep..."

He trailed off, and you squeezed his fingers in encouragement. He squeezed yours right back, so you know he's not spiraling again.

"However, whatever courage I have towards that cause always sours at the thought of what comes after. What does come after do you think?"

You looked over his shoulder in contemplation, you traveled places far away from here, no doubt. Thankful you're entertaining his silly musings, Adrian patiently awaits your response.

"I'd like to think it's a place where I meet all my loved ones once more." You gave him a warm smile.

He chuckles at that. "Interesting response."

"What about you? What do you think?"

Adrian shook his head, golden locks tumbling over his shoulders, "As I said, the fear of not knowing that is the only thing that kept me alive for quite some time. But now, now that I've spent some time with you, it allowed me to clear my mind of that sort of dangerous thought. I think I may have an answer, maybe not a very good one but..."

He gingerly trails his hand from yours to the curve of your elbow and you let him. He leans closer, tone bordering on a soft whisper as he looks into your eyes.

"It doesn't matter what comes next, that shouldn't dictate our actions while we are still here. If you want something, chase it." He puts the other hand on your cheek, making his intentions clear with his actions and his words. Carefully, so you can pull away at any time.

Please don't.

"You have allowed me, to come to this mindset," he sighs. "The thought that what I want is worthwhile to pursue. So I will pursue that which I want. I will pursue... you."

It is evident that his words left you speechless. You stare at him with your mouth slightly parted. Adrian lets out a small breathless chuckle.

Is it really that shocking? After our lips have already become acquainted?

"I know...I know that I'm... half human, half vampire, so at the very least I know it can work, but it's up to you, really." His thumb caressed your cheekbone, "I will continue to pursue you for as long as you allow me."

He can see your eyes glistening with emotion, and he hoped his words touched the part of your soul he wanted them to. However you still haven't said a word and Adrian needs you to voice your desires, or lack thereof, directly.

"I bid you command me now. My devotion is solely placed at your feet. I truly cherish you. Every step you take and breath you breathe."

You close your eyes and choke back a sob as he places one small kiss on your forehead.

With a voice clogged up with emotion, you finally release him from his torment.

"I... would love... nothing more... than to be pursued by you." You say as you give him a watery smile.

He lets out a relieved sigh as he presses his forehead to yours.

"Then pursue you I shall."

It takes only a moment for the atmosphere to change around you. With hunger, you never saw in his eyes, he whispers to you hoarsely.

"Come here, you..."

The kiss is devoid of any sweetness the first one had. This one is full of fire and blood and passion that takes your breath away. You don't have time to react as he pulls you to his lap. His kiss goes down your throat and settles in your belly like a fine liquor.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Request for Gambit comforting the reader after a nightmare? 💗

The room was dim, shadows clinging to the walls as you twisted under the covers. Your heart pounded as the nightmare unraveled in your mind, vivid and relentless. You could see him—Gambit, Remy—standing against an impossible threat. His trademark smirk faltered as he was overwhelmed, his cards sparking weakly in his hand. And then, in an instant, he was gone. The darkness swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but cold, empty silence.

You gasped, bolting upright in bed. Your breath came in ragged bursts, your skin slick with sweat. The remnants of the nightmare clung to you, making it difficult to separate the terror of the dream from reality. Tears blurred your vision, and you buried your face in your hands, willing the images to fade.

"Chérie, you okay?" A familiar voice cut through the haze of fear, pulling you back to the present.

You looked up to see Remy standing by your bed, his eyes filled with concern. He had a way of moving so quietly, like a shadow, that you hadn’t even heard him come in. Without thinking, you reached out to him, your hands trembling.

"Remy… I-I dreamed that you…" Your voice broke, and you couldn't bring yourself to say the words.

He was by your side in an instant, sliding onto the bed and wrapping his arms around you. His presence was warm and solid, the very opposite of the nightmare that had left you so shaken.

"Shh, it's okay, ma chère," he whispered, his voice a soothing drawl. "I'm right here, see? Ain't goin' nowhere."

You clung to him, pressing your face against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He held you close, one hand rubbing gentle circles on your back, the other brushing your hair away from your face.

"You want somethin' to drink? Maybe some cookies?" he asked after a few moments, his tone light and playful, as if trying to coax a smile out of you.

You nodded, feeling a bit silly but knowing that the comfort of something warm and sweet would help ground you. He kissed the top of your head before slipping out of bed, moving with that effortless grace that always left you a little breathless.

As he headed to the kitchen, you took a few deep breaths, trying to push the nightmare further away. Remy was right; he was here, alive, and safe. You could still hear his soft hum from the other room, the sound soothing your frazzled nerves.

A few minutes later, he returned with a glass of milk and a small plate of cookies. "Voilà," he said with a flourish, as if presenting a five-star meal. The corners of his mouth quirked up in that charming smile that made your heart skip a beat.

You took the glass from him, your fingers brushing against his, and the warmth of his touch spread through you like a balm. "Thank you," you whispered, grateful for his gentle care.

As you nibbled on the cookies, Remy slid back into bed beside you, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched you. His gaze was tender, his expression open and filled with a quiet kind of love that made your chest ache.

"Feel a little better, mon amour?" he asked softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, the nightmare finally beginning to lose its grip on you. "I was so scared," you admitted, looking down at your lap. "It felt so real."

"I know, chérie," he murmured, pulling you close again. "But it was just a dream, nothin' more. I'm here now, and I ain't goin' anywhere. Promise."

He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering as if to seal his promise. You leaned into him, letting his warmth and his words wrap around you like a protective cocoon.

"Stay with me?" you asked, your voice small.

He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that was just for you. "Always," he said, and there was no doubt in his voice.

With the empty plate set aside, he settled back into the bed, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head against his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring beneath your ear. He held you close, his arms strong and safe, and you felt the last remnants of fear ebb away.

"You ain't gotta worry, chérie," he whispered into your hair, his breath warm against your skin. "Ain't nothin' in this world that can keep me from you."

You closed your eyes, finally letting yourself relax in his embrace. The nightmare was just a memory now, distant and fading, and in its place was the comfort of Remy's presence. He stayed with you all night, his arms around you, his whispered reassurances easing you into a peaceful sleep.

And in the morning, when the light streamed in through the window, you woke to find him still there, watching over you with that same gentle smile. Safe. Loved. Forever.

[gingerteawrites]

Early relationship with Geto: Where you discover that Suguru is a biker

A/N: I saw this one fanart on Insta with Geto as a biker, and now I cannot get this thought out of my brain. It’s just so yummy to think about, so enjoy the brainrot with me with these series of disorganized thoughts. I have been so busy with work these past few weeks, so apologies for my absence. Part 2 here.

Content: Not jujutsu universe, college students Geto x reader, biker Geto, fluff, not proofread

You and Geto had met on campus during a group study session, where he joined through a mutual friend. You had always thought he was the type to ignore people and not care about his classes at all, given the number of times he skipped. He seemed like the picture of an edge lord, and you had never cared to initiate contact.

Despite these assumptions, you came to know his kindness, which shone in the small ways he showed up for others. Like saving you a seat in the busy library, or remembering things mentioned in passing. He would offer to walk you home at the end of late night study sessions, and you soon grew close, eventually leading to a budding romance.

It was nearing the end of the semester, and Geto was in your dorm, sitting in front of your legs at the edge of your bed as you brushed his ebony hair. He was convinced you lived vicariously through taking care of his hair, developing a fascination with trying all sorts of regimens on it. He did not mind though, always appreciative of your soft touch and noting how much shinier his locks had become.

On this evening, you were finally able to convince him to watch the fast and furious series with you, appalled when he mentioned that he had never seen any of the films.

“Don’t you care about family?”, you asked, trying on your best Dom Torreto impersonation, to which your boyfriend responded with an amused chuckle.

You basically thrummed with excitement when starting Tokyo drift, the third one in your little movie marathon. Your fingers absently weaved through Suguru’s hair, finding yourself giving him pigtails while his head rested against your thigh. His whole body lay lax against you, but his dark eyes focused on the nth car chase that unfolded before you on the screen.

He had not spoken much throughout, only sparing a few comments here and there and insisting that he was enjoying himself when you paused to ask him if he wanted to stop. But you quickly noticed Geto getting more active and making more frequent comments when the motorcycles joined the drift game.

At the end of the movie, you sat up to stretch, and he moved from his position to sit on your bed. “You seem to know a lot about bikes!” You remarked after a yawn “Have you thought about getting one? I think it would suit you” You said, smiling as you sat beside him and nudged his knee

He gave a small chuckle, rolling his neck before fixing his gaze on you “What if I told you I did?”

Your eyes went comically wide, mouth agape at the suggestion “Wait for real??”

He replied with an easy smile, hand coming up to pinch your nose “Maybe I’ll let you ride someday”

“What do you mean, maybe??” you asked, offended.

After teasing you a bit more, Geto obliged to your requests. It was a Saturday afternoon when you finally saw his bike in person. It’s glossy black and purple exterior shone under the setting sun, sleekness reminding you of its owner, who had tied his hair into a bun and slipped on his helmet. He climbed on the vehicle, leaning against its sturdy frame and you had to make a physical effort to not just stare at him with your mouth open, eyes traveling along the curve of his body. God, he was made for this.

You were shaken out of your daze when he beckoned you closer, putting on his spare helmet on your head and inviting you to sit behind him. “Remember, follow my lead and no sudden movements.”

It took you a bit to adjust to a comfortable position, but you eventually settled against him. You saw his eyes crinkle in a smile, before he flipped down his visor, revving the motorcycle and gently taking off.

He took you through the city streets first, slowly skirting past rows of houses and stores, before branching off into the scenic route through the local park where he picked up the pace.

The setting sun, your chest pressed against his back and the roaring of the engine are etched into your mind, feeling as though you were piercing the wind, traveling in a capsule of your own. The roads were empty, and Suguru’s hand often came to squeeze your thigh in reassurance, making sure you were at ease.

Your first time on his bike was an exhilarating experience, and transformed you into an enthusiast, as you threw yourself into understanding the world of motorbikes.

Suguru grew accustomed to your heat leaning on him too quickly, and finds himself missing your gentle weight anytime he rides without you.

This leads to him finding not-so-subtle ways to now invite you to ride with him more often “Since we’re off this weekend, I was thinking of going on a little day trip?” "How about we take the bike to go there?" "Do you need a ride?"

And his attempts never fail to bring a smile to your face, lips pulled wide with delight as you delivered a kiss to his cheek “Of course, Suguru.”

Biker boyfriend Geto is not cold, toxic and distant. How could he ever be? Not when you smile at him like you are the sun itself, or with the way you make sure he eats and visit his dorm with snacks when you notice him skip classes because of a bad day. He is the softest around you, and prioritizes your comfort and safety above all else. Caring is his way of loving you.

Let me know what you think, I love hearing everyone's brainrot :)

[valwrote]

A PREPOSTEROUS PREDICAMENT

pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader

summary: a baker gets framed for a crime she didn't commit. neuvilette comes to her aid as they embark on a crime solving journey full of banter, mysteries and connections.

contains : mention of poisoning, murder and death, usage of she/her pronouns, hurt/comfort if you squint, playful banter, a bit crack energy, neuvillette is such a softie, mentions of voicelines from neuvillette's chatacter quest (no major spoliers), more of a story than a romance based but it has its fluff moments, slight ooc, alot of dividers (sorry), may be incorrect in terms of court proceedings and laws overall because I am not a law student :')

a/n: this was based on @sxttoruu 's idea. thank you for inspiring me to write something. This isn't as romantic because I want to keep it realistic as people who are getting to know each other closely for the first time don't immediately fall in love. Enjoy!

p.s. italics are for flashbacks or events that have already taken place.

not proof read.

w/c: 4.5k words

I heard they were enemies turned lovers."

“Rotten to the core!”

“You are the murderer!”

Neuvilette has beheld this sight yet again. His deep hues gently rested their gaze on the commotion before him. Despite upholding his position as the Ludex of the Fontaine Court – it seemed nothing more than a theatre segment. 

Recently, cases were mundane and yawn-evoking. Lady Furina had attained severe apathy towards all conflicts. 

However, one thing which had created the slightest amusement in his life was one bakery and perhaps the best bakery in the Court of Fontaine region. The owner was a kind soul with the brightest smile and the sweetest loaves of bread in her arsenal. That baker was Y/N.

Though Neuvillette never exchanged words with her, that smile was enough to brighten his day. The bakery was always bustling with not a single moment of solitude. Many asked the secret behind these one-of-a-kind baked goods, to which she would always reply with “Love.”

Yet things spiralled into turmoil on one faithful day.

It was the 50th anniversary of Fontaine’s most prosperous business company. Mr Cornielle was a reputed man with expertise in his niche. He had commissioned the baker as his caterer for the occasion, to which the baker complied.

The party was a grand set-up. Fontaine’s most influential people had been invited as the guests but would be deemed incomplete without the Ludex and the Archon herself.

The blissful environment with bubbling refreshments was a sight to behold. Neuvilette acquainted himself with few folks, yet his eyes drifted across the room, searching for something or perhaps someone.

Was it the baker he sought? He didn’t know himself. Neuvillette constantly had his head boggled with numerous unanswered questions that he kept to himself. Yet it was unequivocal that the baker piqued his interest. Neuvillette just couldn’t pinpoint the reason.

The laughter that surged through the hallways turned into chaos and screams of distress as the host. Mr Cornielle crashed to the floor, mid-conversation, seemingly foaming at his mouth. 

“Everyone, please remain quiet and step away from the victim,” Neuvillette spoke up, creating distance between the guests and the fallen man. “Such gal! To commit such a heinous crime that to in my presence. The perpetrator must not fear anything.” Lady Furina marvelled at the audacity of the offender while taking in the situation up-front.

Neuvillette brushed over her antics and turned to face the person conversing with the victim before the incident, his eyes searching for answers.

“He was talking about the company and its achievements while sipping on the wine before…this.” The person in question stammered out, shaken from the whole ordeal. 

“Anything else?” 

“Well, he was taste-testing the delicacies before the wine.”

Gasps erupted from the crowd as the heads turned towards the baker, who tended to the service trays. Y/N lifted her head, a sweet and proud smile dancing across her lips that soon disappeared after noticing all the eyes on her.

 “She did it! She killed Mr Cornielle.”

 “Arrest her!”

 “Lady Furina, do something!?”

“Seize her,” Furina spoke up, pointing at the baker, whose eyes had widened like saucers. “No, please! I didn’t do anything, I swear! Don’t take me away!” The baker's pleas received no sympathy as the guards dragged her away. She could hear the murmurs amongst the crowd.

“Such heinous act.”

“Wonder if all those years of goodwill were a mere facade?”

The baker’s head hung low from shame. “I have failed you, father.” she grieved and was taken away from the scene.

The stage lights flashed open, highlighting the accused. Trials in Fontaine are like drama, is a saying that lived up to its name. 

“Charges have been pressed against the baker regarding murder through poisoning. All shreds of evidence are in opposition to the condemned. Would the accused like to speak up for themselves?” Neuvillette’s voice bellowed throughout the hall as all eyes narrowed at the person in the middle.

“I didn’t do it, I swear!” the baker pleaded.

“Nonsense! Who else would dare poison such an influential man?”

“I would like everyone to maintain the decorum of the court.” Neuvillette commented. “As all evidence seems to line up against Ms Y/N. I hereby declare her guilty until further investigation on this matter. Guards to escort her to the Fortress of Meropide. The court is adjourned.”

The rainfall after that trial was full of doubt, leaving a gloomy aftermath.

“Oh! hydrodragon, hydrodragon. Please don’t cry.”

The Fortress of Meropide, in all its grandeur, was the last place the baker wanted to be in. She longed for the bright sun and brisk winds. The cold shackles clung to her hardworking palms as she sat behind bars. It was not long before footsteps echoed down the dark hallways. She could make out a faint outline of a familiar silhouette.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” the baker croaked out. She could see the Ludex of Fontaine in all his glory right in front of her eyes. An aura of authority followed him. The baker found her words stuck in her throat.

“I want the truth.” He said, getting straight to the point.

“I didn’t do it. I made those dishes with my own two hands. I swear upon my father’s legacy that I lack the spine to commit such a felony.” The baker stated without a single falter. Neuvillette seemed pleased with the answer. He admired the baker’s willpower to stand up for herself. Humans were unpredictable.

“Answer this. If given a chance, would you do anything to prove your innocence?” He asked that question. Humans were peculiar in terms of communication. One word may sting them to their core, while the other may send them over the moon.

“You are going to grant that baker a monitored bail?” Furina asked, baffled.

“Yes. I hope you don’t object to my actions, Lady Furina.” Neuvillette nodded, reinforcing his previous statement.

“But why? All the attestations are against her?”

“...” Neuvillette remained silent before getting up and leaving.

“HEY! NEUVILLETTE! Where are you going!?” He could hear the last of her words before exiting the room.

You will see much in the human world, from the delightful to the depressing. One day, when you have dwelled amongst humanity long enough, you will bring judgment as a spokesperson for Fontaine’s past.

Those words made Neuvillette question his emotions. He was in a battle between his sense of justice and morality. Part of him couldn’t accept the baker as the culprit. There had to be something that was missing. Something purposefully hidden from the public.

“I will. Anything to prove my innocence.” the baker affirmed his question. Neuvillette had to suppress the smile threatening to show itself. “Very well. Then, I shall grant you a monitored bail during the next hearing.” He spoke, maintaining the formality in his tone before turning around to leave.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Monseiur, who will monitor me?”

“Ah yes, That would be me.”

"As per the law, a person without a lawyer has two choices. Either get a government-assigned lawyer to defend them or fight for their case themselves." The Court was crowded and bustling. It irked Neuvillette just a bit. To these people, trials were drama shows they could flock to. Neuvillette never liked trials being dramatic affairs in his time as the Chief Justice.

"How would the accused like to defend their stead?"

"I will fight my case myself." Y/N spoke up, slight uncertainty in her tone.

"Is that woman crazy?'

"No way. This case keeps getting interesting!"

The cacophony of mockery and laughter made her confidence plummet to the ground. It was hopeless. How could she possibly fight her case alone? She should go with the lawyer.

"Granted. You have two weeks to gather evidence to prove your innocence under a monitored bail. If you fail, life imprisonment for homicide will be your sentence.”

"You will be monitoring me, Monsieur?!"

"Yes. Any objections?" 

"No, just why?"

Neuvillette remained silent. He seemed to be threading his words carefully.

"....to find answers to certain questions. So far, morality is winning."

"Huh?" The baker tilted her in his cryptic response.

"Nothing. The hearing will begin at 8 a.m. sharp. Be punctual."

"The Court is adjourned."

Y/N stood in the now-empty courtroom before she spotted Neuvilette approach her. “Here, this should help you on this journey of fighting for your innocence.” He handed her the book and bid her farewell. Y/N brought the book closer to her face to analyse it better.

GUIDE TO CONDUCTING INVESTIGATIONS AS A NOVICE.

ANYONE CAN FOLLOW THIS QUICK AND EASY GUIDE!

Y/N blinked in utter confusion before chuckling at his antics. 

STAGE 1: FAMILIARIZING YOURSELF WITH THE PAST

Additional: Familiarize yourself with the Chief Justice.

The clock was now ticking.

The investigation had kicked off. Y/N found herself more immersed in her thoughts. She was digging out potential clues and links. Delving deep into Mr. Cornielle’s past gave her an insight into the whole matter. Who was he meeting? What were his plans? Which people did he get into a disagreement with often? All questions seemed to answer themselves one by one.

Y/N sat in her room, deep in thought. She was under house arrest as of now. Neuvillette would accompany her around when she was outside. When busy, she would just hang out in his office. Y/N had developed a sense of truth when it came to Neuvillette. He had certainly earned it with his actions. He was a man clouded with mystery.

Though, he did seem to have a strange liking towards melusines and magic shows. She found that endearing about him. Neuvillette was a man, gentle and poise, gracing every place he went to. Though he was a dork when it came to said things.

He would mutter curses each time his hair or robe got stuck in one of the chairs. He tended to be a food critic. He may be polite about it, but he wasn't the best at hiding that he disliked dry food. If the food wasn't wet, he didn't want it. Both of them had grown to appreciate the other’s company.

"If my memory serves me right, Mr Cornielle in a political rivalry with Mr Etienne? They both clash heads. Their history is notorious among the locals. He can be a potential suspect."

"I have worked for that Etienne fellow. Before I started my business as an independent baker, I used to work for him to earn my daily meals. I knew that man is never up to any good. I have heard him threaten to kill Mister Corneille on multiple occasions."

"That is a big lead. You can work on that and visit the crime scene to scope the evidence."

"Wait. Are you helping me, Monsieur?" she mused- a smirk creeping onto her face.

"No. I am mere brainstorming. All the brains applied here are yours. I am simply giving my input."

"Uh-huh..."

"The investigators found a discarded poison vial. It had moisture on its exterior. From the taste of the water, it must've been transported here from Sumeru to Fontaine's port."

"I see. That can be a big clue if we find the receipt- wait, did you say– from the taste of the water??"

"..."

"Monsieur Neuvillette, are you implying that you licked the bottle and figured out it came from Sumeru? More importantly, how do you even know the difference between the waters of different nations?!"

"I think Lady Furina is calling me. Farewell."

"You aren’t denying that you licked the bottle! HEY! COME BACK! I NEED ANSWERS!"

STAGE 2: GOING TO THE CRIME SCENE 

Additional: Getting jump scared and falling into a secret room only to get spooked again.

Y/N felt like she was an incarnation of Sherlock Holmes. She kept inspecting every surface for potential clues, scoping out corners in classic detective fashion. She couldn’t spot anything connected to the crime. That was until she entered the changing rooms. Something didn’t seem right to her. She didn’t put anything in the delicacies. It must’ve been one of the waiters who must’ve tinkered with the food.

The room was dimly lit and elegant. The lockers were neat and had mirrors on the end of the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“You are supposed to inform me before wandering off by yourself. Might I remind you that you are still under monitored bail,” Neuvillette approached her from behind. Y/N, startled by his appearance, lost her footing and fell towards the mirror. To their shock, the mirror flipped open. She crashed into a dark, dusty room.

“Are you okay?” Neuvillette asked with worry before entering the room behind the mirror. It was hard to make out what was in there.

“I am okay.” She groaned before opening the flashlight. The room was empty. She walked a bit further, swaying the flashlight left-right to emit any corner hiding some clue. She spotted what seemed to be an identification sigil. 

“Monsieur, I found something.” 

“Hm? What is it?” Neuvillette approached her and inspected the sigil. “It is a Fatui sigil. One which operatives use.” She made a mental note of it and flashed her flashlight up ahead, only to meet a horrifying sight that made her shriek and cling to Neuvillette’s tall stature. He was startled as well. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Up ahead! It’s a man tied up.”

The statement raised his guard as he took the flashlight and pointed it straight. It was a man tied up with ropes and a gag in his mouth. He seemed to be unconscious and only in his underwear. “I would like to propose a theory.” He started. “It would appear that the culprit caught his man and disguised themselves as a waiter to sneak into the party undetected.” 

“That can be a possibility. After all, I did suspect that one of the waiters messed with the food.”

“I will call the concerned authorities to get this man to a doctor. You can get off me now. I never knew you so easily frightened.” Neuvillette mused. He thought he had been amidst humans long enough to know about their behaviour. However, every time, a new antic would reveal itself.

“Scared? Me? Of course not! I was just making sure you weren’t scared!” She defensively retorted.

“By clinging on to me for dear life? How so?” Neuvillette mused at her.

“How about we save the man in bondage first?” She brushed over his question and changed the topic. Neuvillette chose not to pry further and left to call for assistance.

STAGE 3: ONE CLUE LEADS TO ANOTHER

Additional: Quality bonding time with the Ludex.

“I am not fighting a Fatui Operator. I am a baker! Do you expect me to fight someone with a baguette!?” Y/N gaped at him.

“If you fight with a baguette or any pastry for that matter, the Operator will first chuckle at your antics and then proceed to dispose of you,” Neuvillette stated the obvious and kept walking straight. Mont Esus East was a mountainous terrain. The walking made the baker’s leg feel like jellies.

“How much longer do we have to walk!” She whined and stopped walking. “A bit more. Don’t give up now. We can’t let this turn into a futile attempt.” Neuvillette ushered her to keep going. After traversing for what felt like an eternity, they spotted a small camp. 

“Okay. Monsieur, I am serious. How are we going to fight those tough guys.” Y/N patiently waited for him to explain his plan, but nothing came. “We go and engage in battle. It is a straightforward plan.” Neuvillette began approaching the camp. He didn’t strike her as someone who could fight off bad guys. She watched as Neuvillette made quick work of the Operators.

“Woah- you don’t come off as someone who can brawl!” Y/N marvelled, her eyes twinkling in admiration. 

“I don’t recall ever reading about a judge who can fight.” Neuvillette shrugged.

“You are right, Monsieur. The stereotype of all judges being oldies is quite common among people. No offence.”

“Offence taken.”

“What? HEY! We both know I was joking!” Y/N quickly replied. She didn’t want to anger him unintentionally.

“So was I.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind,” Neuvillette sighed. It appeared to him that he had to work on his people skills. The baker brushed over the awkward atmosphere and examined the records inside the camp. There were all sorts of legal documents. Old, damp or torn, you name it.

“Gosh, so hard to make out what exactly is written on these.” The baker rummaged through the piles of paper only to find a slightly torn document. It was from a small-scale herbal pharmacy in Sumeru. The document talked about a poison capable of killing someone in under a minute. What stood out the most was the signature at the bottom of the recipient.

“This is it. That is no doubt Etienne’s signature.” Neuvillette spoke, seeing the document himself. 

“Let’s go. We must show this to everyone.” 

“Not so fast. Night has caved in. We should stay here and leave tomorrow at sunrise.” He quickly shunned her advances.

“But Monsieur!”

“No buts.” He remained firm on his decision. Had it been just him, he would’ve departed despite the darkness, but now, with a person by his side, he felt responsible for their safety and chose prevention instead.

Silence engulfed the camp before the baker spoke, “It's funny how quickly people change opinions. All this time, I have done nothing but feed people and bring smiles to their faces, yet I got accused of something I didn’t do. People can be so shallow.” Neuvillette’s gaze soften. He understood the feeling of becoming an outcast better than anyone. “I agree.”  

“Monsieur, why are you helping me?” 

“I apologise if it comes off as something I am doing for my gain, but I am doing this to help you. I can’t explain it, but some part of me kept telling me that there is more than what meets the eye and that I must delve deeper. As the Chief Justice, I can’t afford to be shallow and only go off based on what I see. There is always more to the truth than rumours and gossip.” Neuvillette voiced his reasoning. He could hear hiccups from the baker, an indication of tears.

His heart ached. This situation was Neuvillette’s flaw. He always seemed to get emotionally affected by the plight of people. “I am aware that I am not in a position to say this, but you are worth fighting for. Everyone is. Each individual deserves a chance.” He wasn’t the best when it came to comforting people. He could only try. 

“Y-you think so? I don’t know how I will rebound from this incident. My business will be in shambles. I won’t be able to fulfil my promise to my father.” she wiped her tears away. “I may not be the best at giving solutions, but if you trust my judgement, I’d like to quote, “When there is a will, there is a way.” That captures my advice for you.” Neuvillette mustered his best uplifting tone, a contrast to his usual authoritative one. 

“Thank you." The baker paused before continuing, "Oh! Look, it’s raining.” The baker pointed out. “Apologies, this is going to be an inconvenience tomorrow.” Neuvillette sighed. 

“Why are you sorry, Monsieur?” 

“No reason.”

The baker sighed. Neuvillette was a tough one to figure out.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry.” The baker muttered under her breath, which caught his attention. “You believe in that local legend as well? I don’t get why people think that the hydro dragon weeps. Perhaps he gets stirred by all the tears that fall on this land.” Neuvillette pondered about the legend in slight exasperation.

The baker chuckled at him. “Perhaps people think that the hydro dragon deserves comfort as well.” 

Monsoon had dawned upon Fontaine. 

"When is this rain going to stop?"

"My vacation plans are spoilt."

Neuvillette could hear them all. A solemn feeling engulfed him as the raindrops collided with the floor, creating pitter-patter Sorrows, grievances, questions, mysteries and conflicts, all get washed away with the flowing waters.

The human world was both delightful and depressing. Neuvillette had grown accustomed to his responsibilities, yet when the clear sunny skies shined above him, he was mindful of enjoying the warmth they brought, reminiscing the memories of his friends who wished him stress-free days. 

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry.” he heard a young boy yell that phrase amidst the rain.

“Archenoul! Honey, come inside. You will get wet!” his mother called out.

“Coming! I was just comforting the hydro dragon!”

He couldn't stop his lips from curling up into a smile.

He had always questioned his existence. He tried to connect his past, answering questions that remained unanswered. Yet the sunny days and small moments like such burnt all those thoughts away with their radiance and brought light to his life.

“Comforting the hydro dragon? A silly idea. It is endearing.” Neuvillette spoke after breaking away from his thoughts.

“I know. Wonder who came up with it.” The baker chuckled. The rain slowly came to a halt as time progressed.

STAGE FOUR: FIGHTING THE CASE

“I would like to request Mr. Etienne to come up front.” The baker stood with confidence in front of all eyes.

“Very well. Why exactly do you require my presence?” Etienne stepped up. He was an equally influential businessman. His involvement only made this trial more interesting. “You are known to have a long history with Mr. Cornielle. Both of you were involved in a toxic rivalry.” 

“Are you implying that I killed him?” The man’s face showed hints of anger.

“I never said that.” The baker quickly replied and moved on. “There was a vial in one of the dustbins. It contained the poison that killed Mr.Cornielle. It originates from Sumeru.” 

“How can you prove that it is from Sumeru? That is unless you purchased that bottle yourself, Ms. Y/N.” The man turned the tables. It was now a game of volleyball. The only question that remained was, who’s court will the ball end up in by the end?

“You are right. I can’t prove the bottle’s origin, but this paper does.” The baker pulled out the torn sheets found earlier at the camp. “These are receipts of purchases. Multiple items were imported from Sumeru, including a vial. These documents happen to have your signature on them.”

“Let’s be real Mr.Etienne. Either you confess your crime, or I will narrate your ‘masterplan’ in front of everyone,” Y/N looked him dead in the eye. 

“Fine. I did kill that bastard with my own hands.” Gasps echoed in the hall. Lady Furina had an expression of shock on her face. “That stupid Cornielle. He always found a way to be an obstacle on my way to success. If he had kept his nose out of my business…”

Everyone could tell at that given moment that the man was a lunatic.

“I did sneak into the party that night. I disguised myself as a waiter and snuck the poison into his food. The Fatui were very helpful in the import of the goods without raising suspicions. Just as I had planned, all the blame was pinpointed at you, Ms.Y/N.” He started laughing sinisterly.

The atmosphere had turned eerie and cold. People could feel goosebumps on their arms. “My plan was perfect, but an anomaly snuck in.” The businessman gazed at Neuvillette, who sat in his chair, eyeing the entire scene.

There was a moment of brief silence.

“It seems that it is clear now. Mr Etienne killed Mr Cornielle out of sheer jealousy. He used his alliance with the Fatui to obtain the poison to kill him in cold blood. Then he skillfully made it appear as Ms Y/N’s fault who was sent to jail while Mr Etienne roamed free. Mr Etienne, you are declared guilty of homicide, framing the innocent, inflicting violence and importing illegal goods across national borders. You are sentenced to life imprisonment till your execution date.” Neuvillette stated and ordered the guards to take the businessman away.

“I know you were involved in this Ludex! I will make you pay!” the man screamed till taken away by the guards. Neuvillette sighed before continuing,

“I declare Ms Y/N not guilty and wish her a prosperous business from here on. The court is adjourned.” He finished as the Court slowly began to clear out. Y/N let out a breath of relief. It felt like a huge boulder was taken off her shoulders. She had proved herself innocent.

STAGE FIVE: CELEBRATE YOUR VICTORY

Additional: towards the future with a new special someone.

It had been a few months since that fateful incident. Everyone's tongues had the same question. How did the baker do it? Neither the baker nor the Ludex reveals it. The bakery’s business was booming more than ever. People came, enjoyed their meals and left. Life was back to normal. 

The evening sun was making its descent. The shop was now empty and Y/N was busy cleaning the counters.

“Is the shop still open?” a familiar voice made her ears perk up. “Monsieur Neuvillette!” The baker turned around to see the familiar blue and white robe and tall stature. “Greetings I hope you haven’t faced any unpleasantries up till now.” the man asked as the baker tackled him into a hug. It caught the Chief Justice off guard, yet a warm feeling spread across his chest. 

“Oh- sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” the baker profusely apologized.

“I believe it is fine. We have spent time together long enough to be well acquainted.” Neuvillette waved his hand dismissively.

“Come! Sit down! I will get you something.” The baker offered, but Neuvillette shook his head and politely declined.

“Maybe next time. I was just passing by so, I thought I would pay a quick visit. My schedule is full till next month but I will be sure to come whenever time permits.”

“You better come! I will serve you all of my bestsellers!” the baker shot him a toothy grin.

“Is this perhaps a way for you to mug me off my money?” Neuvillette raised a brow at her. Will she get his attempt at humour this time?

“Mug you? No! It is called a business strategy.” The baker proudly chimed with her hands on her hips. She did take his joke this time.

Neuvillette was enjoying this small yet sweet conversation with the baker. It was lively, and lighthearted and felt nice after a long day. He could get used to the baker’s effervescent personality.

He feels a bit queasy. What are these feelings? Such unrestful emotions are similar to what humans feel when they enjoy someone’s company. Why is this happening all of a sudden?

"Neuvillette!" His thoughts are cut short by her gleaming smile. "Thank you." 

It had been a while since he heard those words. His statement from earlier had now become a concrete thought in his mind. The baker was worth choosing his morality over his judgment for.

A smile finally shined on his face.

"You're welcome."

©definitelysel

please do not copy, claim as your own or translate. plagiarism will not be tolerated.

thank you for your time <3

[crezz-star]

I can't help but wonder about your One Piece OC! I know you've mentioned that he's a mature person in the crew, but do you see him as more of a sibling/parental role to Luffy, or is he part of the shenanigans with usopp/chopper/luffy, or is he like tired uncle like Jinbei (or secretly amused like zoro) ? I am eager to hear about where he meshes in with crew especially luffy

I also can't help but wonder if our first mate gets jealous of him often. You mentioned that you do, but I think about like what if some days luffy just misses Ace, and luff will stare at Jean a lot more sometimes or just hover around him just to relive being with his brother *cries*

✨Kira kira yoho!✨

Hello!

Ahhh!! Im so happy and excited every time I get question about my OCs (❤´艸｀❤) Thank you for taking interest and being curious about Jean!

To answer. He is more of big brother type. Not just to Luffy but to everyone. Even the older mature straw hats. Jean just have so much love to give, growing up not knowing much about the world, isolated and thinking himself to be a slave until death. It really is Luffy and the strawhats who saved him and his fellow slaves so, he's enthusiastic in showing them how much he cares for them. how thankful he is to them for saving him, and along with that, his life. So he spoils everyone like this cool doting brother.

I'm actually planning to make one paged comic series ( kind of like 4 koma? ) in his interactions with the strawhats. As well as discovering more of the world. little sneak peek with Sanji ( ignore the cross. i changed that to a locket )

Here, Jean becomes the big brother Sanji dreamed and should have had. At first it annoys Sanji to no end even saying stuff like " gross, dont touch me. its weird! " but Jean is so gentle towards the crew, even helping Sanji wash the dishes, even cleaning the kitchen at night to surprise Sanji that eventually, Sanji accepts Jean. And finally allows himself to be spoiled. Even bringing out that side of Sanji that longs for a caring brother. One he only dreamed back then.

Jean has that ability to let everyone's hidden side of wanting to be spoiled and Jean is all to happy to do so. He is just so happy to be there with everyone. That he never really asks for anything in return.

--------------

As for Zoro being made Jealous by Jean. Yes he does that. but there is a moment only the three of them knows. Its when Luffy gets nightmares about Ace every now and then. most of the time he can deal with it, but there are times he's so shaken. When Jean wasn't around yet, it's Zoro trying to calm him down. But when jean arrived, the three of them found out that, despite being freaked out by jean and Ace looking alike, Jean helps Luffy calm down due to his voice being exactly like Ace's. Along with it, Jean's hugs is just one of the best. Even beating hugs from Jinbei. There's a strange therapeutic effect.

Here is a comic I doodled quickly just now to show that.

I still wanted to emphasize the eerie feeling from Jean and Ace's similarities are so the comic ended up a bit off. (laughs) please forgive me!

Every time this happens, Luffy does apologize to Jean for asking him to 'talk' like Ace. He knows it's wrong, but honestly, Jean would do anything to calm Luffy. and He knows Luffy doesn't mean it and that he's just suffering, So Jean is very patient with him and never really feels offended at all.

And that is all the answers I have!

Thank you for being interested in Jean!! 💖💖

✨Have a sparkling day!✨

[a-tortured-poets-quill]

Hii this is sorta based on your last post but the older creeps reactions to reader calling then pookie? They be so confused, and a bit offended because they wouldn’t know what it means 😆 also I love your blog and hope you’re doing well! Hope you and your cousin are doing okay after last week

I love these goofy requests, they make me so happy. Me and my cousin are doing okay, she’s still very shaken up but she’s finally talking normally and eating full meals.

Calling The Creeps Pookie

Laughing Jack

“Goodnight, pookie.”

A scruff of black hair appears in your periphery. “Pookie? What is a pookie?”

Turning your head reveals your beloved, messy haired and open eyed, now wide awake. You would have never guessed he was trying to sleep seconds ago. Now there’s determination in his eyes. His entire face is just screaming he’s gonna get to the bottom of this. You mentally curse yourself for even speaking. Another sleepless hour to come, but what else did you expect from your clown?

Jack props himself up over you, tilting his head and smiling with teeth. “Is that some kind of new pastry I haven’t heard of? Are you calling me a cupcake? Is it because I’m so sweet?”

Before you can defend yourself, he’s nuzzling against your neck, being careful not to poke you with his pointy nose, stealing all sorts of nibbles and kisses. “You are so precious to me, my baby.”

Through your blushing cheeks, you tell him that although he is very sweet, you’re not calling him a pastry. It’s simply another one of your pet names for him. The explanation doesn’t calm Jack’s excitement, he’s still all over you.

“I’ll be your pookie, then. But that means I’m your only pookie, right? No other pookies involved?”

It takes some time to get him to shut up, get him off the pookie talk, and go to sleep.

Since that night, Jack calls you pookie sometimes, freely, and without a care for anyone who is around. Calls you pookie very loudly in front of Frankie just to see the annoyed look on the man’s face and giggles in your ear about it.

Although he probably doesn’t understand the real meaning, he doesn’t care. He thinks it sounds cute, a cute little word to describe his cute little partner, and that’s all that matters to him. As much as he is your pookie, you are his.

Isaac Grossman

“It looks beautiful, pookie.”

Isaac slowly stands from his perched position at the edge of his garden. He’s even slower when he turns to face you. When he does, the pure confusion etched into his face almost makes you burst into a laugh. He’s frowning, with squinted eyes and pinched brows.

“Did I mishear you, love?” he asks, idly holding the garden shears in one hand. Now you can’t stop the laugh that jumps out from how devastatingly lost he sounds. The poor man.

Coming to his side, you reassure him that he heard you very well. You explain that it’s just a pet name, like dear or darling. Only it’s a more goofy choice. You assure him that it still holds as much affection as the others.

“Oh, I see,” he nods. A softened, relieved smile crosses his handsome features. “That is very kind of you to call me such things, my love.”

Isaac understands it. Eventually.

You do have to show him the written definition for him to fully get it. You spend a few moments holding your phone out for him while he adjusts his reading glasses to read the definition. He doesn’t mind the extra time learning about it, of course.

Isaac doesn’t mind when you call him that. It’s as if you called him any other pet name. Even as silly as pookie sounds, he likes how happy you look when you call him it. It soon becomes one of the various names you call him in your relationship, weaving its way in with honey and sweetheart and all the others.

Isaac would call you it too, but he isn’t that silly. He thinks it sounds weird coming out of his mouth. It doesn’t mix very well with his accent.

Frankie The Undead

“How’s the paperwork going, pookie?”

“What?”

Frankie stares at you from across the room like you’ve just cursed him out. Like you’ve recited a riddle in an unknown language. Like you’ve just uttered something nonsensical. What on Earth did you just say?

He stops everything he’s doing and puts his full attention on you. Despite the multitude of papers on his desk, he puts all his pens aside. His body language screams it all. Explain yourself, now.

Usually, one would feel vulnerable under the heat of his glare, but you burst into laughter immediately.

Frankie, however, doesn’t break. He remains gawking at you, one eyebrow twitching. And despite how he feels, he can’t help the way his cheeks heat up. He had to admit that hearing your laugh was one of his favorite things, but what the fuck was a pookie?

Just a pet name, you explain between laughs and giggles. You think that’ll break his stare, but it only hardens further after your explanation. The man straight up frowns. He rolls his eyes with a groan, leaning back heavily into his office chair. He’s so dramatic, but you adore his dramatic ass.

Frankie takes his pen back in hand. “I will accept any other term of endearment besides that,” he grumbles, returning to his work, pretending to be unbothered.

From then on, using the word around him becomes a running joke. You only say it just to get him riled up and pissy. Although he hates every second of it, you enjoy every bit of terrorizing him. Sometimes you randomly come up to him, hug him and pretend to be sweet, and lean in only to whisper the word in his ear. It earns you a gentle swat to your arm and a warning. However annoyed he may get, he’s still just your grumpy pookie.

Although Frankie voices how much he despises the word, he never tells you to stop using it. It makes you question how much truth he’s actually telling you.

Divider link

[seiwas]

Hi 🥺👉👈 I heard you wanted prompts for writing practice so I came to offer help 🤲🫡

It can be for any character (maybe whoever has the nearest birthday if you can't choose?), but the word is "salmon" 🎏💦

P.S. Do you pronounce it "sam-men" or "sayl-mon"?

hi there! thanks for sending in a prompt! 🥺 i'll do kiri! hehe and i pronounce it as 'sah-mon' 🥹

help me get back into the writing groove! send me a character + any word and i'll write a short blurb about it!

contains: food (salmon), brief mentions of cheating (of a diff couple)

kirishima + salmon

"mama, what does love mean?" you ask your mother, wide-eyed and full of wonder.

you were 10 when you first truly wondered what love meant. in your small town, it was hardly ever the grand things. handpicked flowers from the side of the road, sometimes fields if the seasons permitted; baked goods prepared in the early hours of the morning, its scent wafting down your neighbor's porch.

it was the soft goodbye kisses that your mother would give your father as he left for work, and his insistence that she makes the best damn pie this town has ever seen (even though he's allergic to blueberries). love was simple, and it was easy.

so when you moved out of your small town at 18 and faced the big city, you were shaken by the reality that that wasn't always the case.

"he said he still loves me," your first roommate cried to you, heartbroken as she held out the text on her screen. she had caught him with another girl just hours prior.

at 20, the consensus among your friends was that good sex was just as good as love itself.

"dating these days is fuuuucked," yuki plops down on your couch. at 23, the dating scene has proven to be a challenge for most of your friends.

it's either someone isn't enough or they're too much. sometimes, the truth comes later, months into a budding relationship, and the rest of the group has yet another name to add to the growing list of "people who deserve to eat uncooked rice and stale bread".

you agree, but also don't. because you've lucked out, it seems.

though kirishima believes it to be fate more than anything.

who would have thought that spraining your ankle in sophomore year would land you here, now, sharing an apartment with the cute, kind boy you so embarrassingly tripped in front of.

from across the room, you listen vaguely to yuki rant the third time about the girl who stood her up for the guy who was leading her on for months. you've already set out a plate for her to join you and kirishima whenever she's ready, but you know that it won't be until she's told the story the fifth time that she'll notice she's hungry.

the meal in front of you is miso glazed salmon, a favorite in your apartment. you don't make it so often because salmon is expensive, especially the good kind, but kirishima believes that life is all about the treats you let yourself have once in a while.

there's only one slice of salmon left on the serving plate and it's a given that it belongs to yuki. with how busy work was for you today though, it's hard to hide that you're still a little bit hungry.

and kirishima sees it, in the way you attempt to scoop up any remaining sauce on your plate with your spoon; in the way you go for a bit more rice, even when it has nothing to go with anymore.

so he takes one more bite and cuts off the rest of his slice, scooping it up to place it on your plate.

you look at him, confused, furrowing your brows at the fact that there is no way he's done eating; kirishima eats twice as much as you do, thrice even, on heavier gym days. but he only gives you a sweet smile, red eyes twinkling as he motions for you to go ahead and finish it.

warmth fills you in this moment, fuzzy flutter feelings swirling in your belly.

it reminds you of when you were 10, asking your mother what love meant, and she said, "sometimes, it's when they give you the rest of their food even when they aren't finished, and especially when it's their favorite."

[bogcreacher]

okay clangen fanfic time let’s go babey home run babey lets go!!!!

Chapter 1 - The Messengers

It was night over the valley.

The remnants of daylight pooled around the horizon, where the trees of Dappleclan cut into the thick, blue sky. The low clouds of greenleaf were long gone, leaving the stars stark and glittering. 

Moorheart had almost finished the evening patrol. He’d sent the others home early when they’d complained of sore paws.

It wasn’t their fault. There weren’t enough warriors to go around nowadays. 

He shook out his fur, taking extra care as he picked through the thistle-ridden paths of his clan’s territory. The trees hung low, drumming peacefully as he scraped under their lowest branches. He counted his steps as he went. 

In leaf-fall the undergrowth was always so alive. Somewhere far beyond his sight he could hear the hum of busy insects and the babble of the distant stream - and beyond that, small creatures, feeding and nesting and chattering. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, ignoring the growl of his stomach. 

It was the type of night that felt electric, sending his fur bristling and his whiskers to points. Part of him liked having it all to himself. 

He took a left turn at the next marker, leaping up the body of a larch and letting the ground drop farther and farther below him. It was the type of night for climbing. 

He used to linger in trees as an apprentice, to the point that his mother would joke about her son ‘with his head in the clouds’. 

“You’re more squirrel than cat - bushy-tailed, and fascinated by heights.”

Something about it grounded him. The higher he climbed, the more the noise and the pain and the fear softened, as if muffled by the clouds or the slow, dark crush of nightfall. It was a kind of peacefulness only he seemed to understand. 

Not that anyone else tried to understand. Not that anyone else got it.

It was clearer up here, where the breeze bit his ears to numbness and the earth trembled beneath him. Where the sky was so dark and so large he could look up and feel himself fall.

His fur prickled.

A storm’s brewing.

He was shaken from his musings when he heard movement below, of something picking its way through the undergrowth. 

Dropping to a lower branch he stooped to take a look. A small ways off bushes rustled, parting to reveal a lithe shadow. 

A rabbit?

Moorheart lowered his head as it crept closer. 

No. Larger.

His ears twitched. 

Cats. 

He couldn’t recognise them from afar. And he didn’t like how they came from downwind. 

The camp wasn’t far, though to flee he’d have to reach ground, and he doubted he could drop quietly enough to avoid alerting his new companions. 

He could call for help, but how long would it take for his clanmates to arrive? Certainly long enough for an assailant to scale his larch and sink their teeth into him.

Moorheart tugged his nervous claws from the bark beneath him.

Focus. This is hardly an invasion.

The cats were closer now, and Moorheart could see the way they moved, ears pricked and tails swaying. They walked with sure-footed grace, lightly dodging the brambles and boughs of his clan’s territory- Rainclan, he thought to himself, frowning. 

They were alert, they were cautious, but they weren’t stealthy. 

Moorheart raised his head. 

“Who's there?” 

“Moorheart? Is that you?” a familiar voice called. 

“Milkfur? What is this?”

“We have a message for Volestar.”

“This couldn’t wait until morning?”

“Where’s your patrol?” she called. 

He paused. Milkfur’s ear twitched. He couldn’t read her face from this distance.

“No patrol,” he said. “It’s just me out here.”

“Come down.”

Moorheart did, leaping deftly from bough to bough and only half-stumbling on his landing. Closer now, he saw the faces that made up this delegation: Milkfur, a golden molly with long whiskers and a round face; Crowpelt, a plump young tom with glossy fur; and Brightleg, a cat with cold, grey eyes that made him feel like leafbare was settling on his shoulders.  

Moorheart wasn’t sure why a message would require three seasoned envoys; he felt somewhat like a pinned bird when they settled around him. 

“Out with it, then,” he said, tail flicking. “What’s so important that it couldn’t wait ‘til dawn?”

Milkfur exchanged a look with Crowpelt.

“We found a body by the Thunderpath,” she said, quietly. “We… we think it's Rotstar.”

Somewhere far away, a bird whooped. 

“What?”

“We think,” Milkfur repeated. “It’s difficult to tell. We thought we ought to get someone from Dappleclan out to check, just in case.”

“Maybe Volestar?” Crowpelt chimed. “Or Batpounce?”

"Yeah." Moorheart didn't know why, but suddenly his feet felt very heavy. "I’ll... I’ll fetch them.”

“Not tonight,” Brightleg said. “In the morning.”

“Right.” Moorheart met his gaze and shivered. In daylight. 

“We just thought we should warn you, in case an apprentice stumbled upon it or- or something,” Milkfur said, as if sensing the chill in the air. 

“Thank you.” Moorheart dipped his head. “Really.”

“I…” the golden molly shuffled where she sat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Moorheart’s ear flicked. 

“Thank you,” he said, terser. “I’ll send Volestar to the border tomorrow, at Sunhigh.”

Milkfur nodded; out of agreement or courtesy, he couldn’t tell. Then all three cats were gone in the shrubbery, light and quick as they arrived.

Moorheart watched them go, then took an angry tongue over his fur. 

Far be it for a dead cat to get under my skin. I must be mad. 

He turned, pushing thoughts of his former leader and her rotten ways from his mind. He would check the markers along the edges of the grove, wander up the hill to inspect the abandoned setts, then amble back to camp and curl into his warm nest, safe and sound.

This will all blow over soon.

Somewhere far away, thunder growled. 

[lunnybunny12]

Blitz x Reader (patching him up)

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN

This is mostly word vomit but hope you enjoy it.

Blitz comes back from a job pretty beaten up.

"Hey, Loona? its getting late I'm gonna head home," you said, closing your computer.

"kay. See you tomorrow " she answered while still looking at her phone.

When you and Millie moved to the pride ring, nether of you expected to be working at I.M.P. Millie got a job there pretty much right away. She would always come home to your apartment frustrated because of the lack of organisation of jobs.

One day you decided to meet her at work and walked into chaos. piles and piles of paperwork strewed everywhere. You offered to help and the boss offered you a job. Its been a few years since then.

"Thank you." you chimed.

Just as you were about to go file away the last few documents and head home, the portal to Earth opened. Moxie and Milie came through with a few scratches but Blitz took one step and then fell flat on his face.

"Holey fuck what happened?" you asked picking up Blits and dragging him to a chair.

"OW! ow ow. Some fucker got me a few times" Blitz said through his teeth.

"I'll say" Millie huffed " The guy practically had him on the ropes"

You looked at Blitz who had a look on his face that read: angry and embarrassed.

" Ah Thank you, Millie. Ever the ray of sunshine" Blitz growled at her.

"Ha ha well... Sir we're going to call it a night. It's uh getting kind of late" Moxie nervously chuckled

"Yea. You all go home. I'll lock up and see you tomorrow"

After that Blitz shuffled himself into his office and closed the door behind him. A few drops of blood followed behind him.

"How... bad was he hurt?" you asked walking to get the first aid kit from the shelf.

"Not bad enough to go to the hospital but he was definitely shaken"

"You want me to help you patch him up?"

"Nah Loona I'll be fine. Could you keep an eye on him when he gets home?"

---------------

The second that door closed behind him Blitz silently screamed in embarrassment.

He got his ass kicked, fell flat on his face and had Millie make him look like an absolute idiot. AND HE DIDN'T EVEN KILL THE GUY!

And to make things worse it happened all in front of you. He could've melted into that chair.

Since you were hired the two of you have flirted back and forth originally for Blitz it was entirely work place banter. Something to piss off Moxie and to keep up moral but as time went on he started to like you more and more.

Blitz was brought back to reality when he heard a knock on the door.

"Hey handsome, how you doing?" you chimed, closing the door behind you.

He felt heat rush to his face.

"I thought you went home?" he chuffed

"nope. Can't have my favourite boss die. who would sign my paycheck?" you winked.

Blitz laughed "And here I was thinking you liked me for my dazzling personality"

You smiled and gave him a quick look over. he had a few cuts on his face and arms but no sign of where the blood could be coming from. His face was pretty red too.

"Come on pretty boy, can sit on the desk?"

He sent you a pained look.

"Well...it's either you sit on the desk or I sit on your lap"

"OOO is that supposed to be a threat, sweetheart? He smiled wiggling his eyebrows making you blush.

You rolled your eyes and helped him to the desk. It was a bit of a struggle to lift him up there.

"Wow, your desk is huge!"

"Yeah, I get that a lot " He was about to stretch but then recoiled in pain making the pair of you chuckle again.

A while later he was all bandaged up and the bleeding had stopped.

"Ok. I'm gonna clean the cuts on your face and then I'm taking you home."

"You don't have to do that "

"Yea well it's gonna happen and I don't wanna hear you complain about it. Plus it gives me an excuse to hang out with you longer so that's that."

You had a cotton pad with antiseptic hovering over his face.

"This is gonna sting a little but I need you to stay still"

"OW"

Your hand went under his chin to make him look at you. For a second your eyes locked. You could see so many emotions swirling around and you felt your face heat up.

"I-Im sorry" you stammerd

"Wha - no no you... do what you need to do"

That's when the pair of you saw the position you were in. You were stood between his legs. Your faces were inches away from each other and both your hands were on his face.

You both felt as if you were on fire.

Eventually, he swallowed his pride and asked "Can I uh... try something?"

You nodded.

He nervously wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you even closer into a hug. Suddenly ...his cuts didn't hurt anymore.

"Thank you, by the way. I haven't had someone care about me in a while"

A shakey sigh escaped you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to hug him back. Resting your head on top of his.

You both stayed like that for a while but you could've stayed there forever.

After you calmed down a little you guided his face to look at you again.

"Blitz?"

"Uh oh. You're using my name. Am I in trouble?"

Your face went red again " Do you wanna be?" you asked leaning in closer, your eyes flickering to his lips.

He quickly realized what you were talking about and he smiled the biggest grin you'd ever seen.

"Fuck yes"

[erinwantstowrite]

hi!! first off i just want to say i love LOF and i think it really stands out in this niche genre of “spiderman in gotham”, its my absolute favourite fic rn and im loving the long chapters and dynamics between characters :)

for my question, i wanted to know if you ever considered writing any portions of peters past. specifically when he was “Parker”, an informant for the avengers. it sounds like a really interesting story and i’d love to know more about it, no pressure tho ^^

thank you so much!! I do plan on writing more about it. I honestly want to do a prequel,,,

I have some of it written actually. It was called It's called "Technically Not a Lie (Just Omitting Information)" and what is hilarious about that is it's only 27,000 words right now. I haven't touched that fic in forever because I just... had all of the information written down and the planning, and I got into Batfam and was like "Let's just write a little about this" and we can all blame @alighterwood for where we are now LMFAOOO

Thing is, I never expected LoF to get so popular, which is why it was posted first. I was like "I'll just make sure as much as I can that LoF is clear about his past so anyone who isn't me can read it and be fine." And now that we're here, I'm like "...that might be important."

I think it would be fun to have a prequel so more people can see the dynamics of Peter's world from before LoF in a much clearer light.

I kind of wanna shed a little light on how this prequel would go:

He ran from his last foster house at 12 years old, and he's year years old in this fic. In that time, he has been determined to make a life for himself all on his own, as well as help people as Spider-Man. He has no idea that his personality made people trust him so much. He's only on the street for about a year by the time the story starts, but "Parker" is very much intertwined with people. People just know him, he's the kid that the other kids go to for help. Even without Spider-Man (who, at this point, has only just gotten a proper suit and people actually realize he's not a cryptid), Parker manages to help people.

That's why the Avengers end up talking to him. Kids are going missing in Queens and show up dead- but most of them are the homeless population. They think it has something to do with people trying to make a knock-off super solider serum, and during their investigation, everything comes back to "That Parker Guy." Not in a bad way- everything has nice things to say. One kid even says they'll only talk to them if Parker vouches for them.

Turns out, Parker is a 13 year old and a fucking genius. I mentioned in LoF chapter 1 about it a little bit, and here and there it was mentioned. Peter gives the Avengers a real run for their money the way he does for the Batfam. Except it's ten times worse because he hasn't gone to therapy and is on his own, yknow?

So Bucky and Steve run across Peter (who is doing his own investigation into the missing kids as both Parker and Spider-Man) and that conversation ends with Peter going "Look behind you!" and sprinting in the opposite direction.

Sam and Banner are the ones that really track Parker down and have the first contact with him, and from there, he becomes their informant. Of course, he's also lying to their faces. Swears that he has a mother waiting for him and that he's just really good friends with these people. And people have lied several times to their faces for Peter, going with the lie, which muddies the waters about what is and isn't the truth.

From there, the rest is history. Tony thought he was just viewing Peter like he was a puzzle to figure out, and is truly shaken to his core when he realizes how much he cares about the little shit. When Peter gets kidnapped by the people making the knock off serum, they go looking for him. And Peter ends up having a home :)

[mistercrowbar]

I had a thought about an ascended to godhood Aldiirn and I think he’d be the god of a certain kind of fear.

I figure it’d be that kind of fear a fresh faced bard would feel looking out over a crowded tavern and realizing they’d never played infront of this many people before.

Or the anxieties of a diplomat trying to talk their way out of a deal while bound at the hands.

Or even some love drunk bastard trying to work up the courage to tell their paramour how they truly feel.

See it’s not just stage fright. It’s that deep down fear of failure and all that could be lost should you take that chance.

In those moments when those poor shaken sods think “by the gods please let this work.” That’s when Aldiirn arrives.

His help varies by situation. Some simply need the right phrase, the right chord, the right move, or even just affirmation that the only thing worse than doing it scared is being left with the “what if” for the rest of their days.

You may think a god like this would be one of courage and bravery, but you’d be mistaken. What it takes to turn fear to courage varies from person to person, but regardless if your audience is a band of killers, the love of your life, or an actual audience.

The fear is always the same.

He’d be the god of doin it scared. The Dalai Lama of the doubtful diplomats and dawning divas. The higher power of the hold my beers and anxious dears. He’s the little voice in the back of your mind saying “You can do it and here’s how!”

I can’t promise that he’d make the world a better place, but I can guarantee he’d make it far more interesting.

Anon how dare you write such beautiful things about my character. I’m blown away by this. Its so good. So spot on. It’s perfect. I’m gonna be reading and rereading all day. I’m printing it out and putting it up on my office art wall.

I keep wanting to joke that “you think Aldiirn is a scared neurotic guy now? Guess what he used to be WORSE,” but like, no, he still is “worse,” he’s just learned ways to cope and power through and get things done while scared. Not all his methods are healthy, and sometimes he falters, especially with the Rosymorn arc just piling on a bit too much for him to handle, but he gets through and comes out better for it.

And isn’t a tav there to help the other companions overcome their fears? What is Bardic Inspiration but a “you got this!” just when it’s needed? I’ve always loved bards for being a support class that uplifts the party, and Aldiirn is sure as hell gonna be there for his. He’ll be by their sides to give just the nudge they need to overcome their fears.

I actually just finished lettering a page form comic scene of Aldiirn and Lae’zel discussing the egg. And like. Yes I do play up Aldiirn’s fear of her for laughs. But the scene ended up becoming the epitome of “do it scared.” How Aldiirn was raised, subservience is survival, hence all the times he’s “yes, mistress” to Lae’zel. But to actually get through to her he’s gotta do things the githyanki way which is to flex your own clout and ooouuugh he does it but his mind is SCREAMING at him the whole way because this is how you end up ragdolling down the mountainside!!! But he does it. He does it scared.

Thank you for this anon, your writing is just, so eloquent. Writing’s always a struggle for me, but when comics I can just push an expression or all this feeling I have onto a page and hope someone picks it up and it’s just, so good when someone see it’s there.

Keep on keeping on!