#and its just kind of shaken me up a bit
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depressedzelda · 1 year ago
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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
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eclarinet · 5 months ago
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same soup... different day
#hello it is sarah in the tags again#i feel like i tell myself i'll actually use this as a blog and then i forget and then i remember and then i forget again#venting ahead if that is not ur jam (talking to the 2 followers who actually see my posts)#i like tumblr because it;s so removed from my personal life that it feels really like a place i dont have to be anything for anyone#anyway i've been wondering if i should go back to therapy again but i feel like they might get tired of me because i keep bailing and comin#back like an addict lol like i swear i'll commit this time! sike. ghost be upon ye#anyway this time i'd come in for the big D#i don't like the floor it just feels closer to being six feet under and a bit like where i belong#i feel like a great number of things have happened in the past year and i've met all of it with a very lukewarm sense of dread and anxiety#its not even about feeling happy i dont even think i can feel shaken by anything. i feel like people see my apathy and think it's confidenc#anyway im not going back. they always say the same thing. can't do shit about shit life syndrome. and i don't want pills i'm so sick of the#isn't it something that i'm especially depressed the day before i start my new job? it's a tradition at this point. cheers#isn't it cruel that everyone in my life seem to put me on some kind of bizarre pedestal and no one questions my decisions or authority and#i battle with myself to figure out if i'm doing the right thing (no one will tell me the truth they are all scared of me getting angry)#was talking with a friend about how it'll be if i join their group project in a module we're taking soon.#and she's like well isn't it obvious? everyone will just listen to whatever you say and we'll end up doing well.#no one would challenge you because you're always right. and it's like.. yeah. i guess. okay. (hate that i know she's not wrong)#lol can u tell this is why house is kind of getting to me. learning lots of things about myself watching that man commit medical malpractic#anyway. i didn't ghost my therapist this time i remember now. she left the clinic lol she asked me to connect on linkedin. that was amusing#i always feel like the therapists here never know what to do with me and i kind of have to hold their hand a bit through my psyche#also they seem to be a bit at awe of me which is a bit annoying. and i know that definitely sounds like Issues but it's just like#ugh not you too. please stop i'm sick of it i'm sick with it. i don't want you to be inspired by my awful life and how i handled it#and i have nothing to say for it but... *gestures vaguely* of all of this
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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!
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stromblessed · 1 year ago
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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.
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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?
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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:
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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.
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You see where I'm going with this.
When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:
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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.
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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:
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Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!
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The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.
And, uh
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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.
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Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:
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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:
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"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.
Kind of like another bird in this show:
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heyaheiya · 4 months ago
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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 🙏🙏
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aldryrththerainbowheart · 5 months ago
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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.
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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.
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awkward-walking-potato · 5 months ago
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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.
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gingerteawrites · 5 months ago
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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 :)
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iinryer · 25 days ago
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wip whatever! ive been tagged by @try-set-me-on-fire @bigfootsmom @pelorsdyke the past few days and im sure others i cannot recall even further back <3 ty for tagging me sorry I don’t always have stuff 2 share
(from chris comes home too soon fic, shortly after waking up in the hospital)
“Buck called…” Chris says it slowly, deliberately. He says it in a way that makes Eddie think maybe it’s not the first time Chris has told him, “He said you were hurt,”
Eddie swallows harshly. His eyes burn with tears he tries to blink back.
He has hazy memories about a call, and slipping down… falling from… he’s not sure. He wants to know, but he doesn’t want to ask his teenage son. Who’s here. Really actually here, in the same room as him for the first time in almost four months.
“You…” Eddie starts, voice hoarse, breath hiccuping in his chest, “how long…”
He’s not sure whether he wants to know how long Chris has been here, or how long he’ll stay. He still feels groggy and heavy. His thoughts are sticky, but he thinks he’s clinging to them with a better grip than he was earlier. He takes a deep breath. Feels a twinge somewhere for the first time. It hurts, in a far away kind of way, but it’s a sudden relief he didn’t know he needed. To be able to feel his body.
Eddie swallows, deciding it’s probably best not to have a heavier conversation before he’s fully present, and settles on, “How long have you been here…?”
Chris sits up straighter suddenly—that wary look still on his face, but there’s an alertness that wasn’t there before.
Alarm bells start going off in the back of Eddie’s head, somewhere muffled, but he can feel them. His brow furrows, a heavy arm trying its best to move across the bed to reach feebly towards Chris. His voice is raspy and thick around the tears he’s bit back, “Hey… what’s wrong?”
The smallest, shakiest voice he’s heard from his kid in years, says, “Dad?”
And then, Eddie’s horror, Chris’ bottom lip wobbles.
“Hey—hey, hey, Chris,” Eddie chokes, forcing his heavy, uncooperative hand over the edge of the mattress, “C’mere, you’re—you’re okay—,”
Chris lets out a gasping breath and lurches forward to, gently, ever so softly, grasp onto Eddie’s uncoordinated, reaching fingers.
They just look at each other for a moment. Then Chris’ brow furrows a bit, hesitating as his gaze drifts upward.
“Are you back? For real, this time?” Chris whispers, not crying, but still clearly distressed, “You were confused, before. You kept forgetting I was here,”
Tears well up in Eddie’s eyes, so suddenly, and with such ferocity it startles him. His first instinct is to shake his head vehemently and insist that no, he would never forget. He could never forget. But… He takes in Chris again. Remembers the way he spoke earlier…
Eddie takes a breath and claws at his residual grogginess, gives Chris’ hand a squeeze and says, “Yeah, buddy. I think—I think so,”
Chris nods slowly, still looking a little shell shocked, eyes drifting off to the side. Then says, “I’m supposed to call the nurse,”
Eddie wants nothing less than to have to deal with the medical staff when his son is right here. He’s here. But Chris looks shaken. Not just shaken, but shaken and containing it. And that breaks Eddie’s heart in two.
So Eddie just nods belatedly, clears his dry throat, and whispers, “Okay,”
Chris doesn’t move for a moment, looking at Eddie again. But before Eddie’s mind can catch up, Chris is reaching over to press the call button.
tagging @gayeddieagenda bc i want to see the thing you’re working on 🫵
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valwrote · 1 year ago
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A PREPOSTEROUS PREDICAMENT
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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
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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"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. 
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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!"
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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."
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©definitelysel
please do not copy, claim as your own or translate. plagiarism will not be tolerated.
thank you for your time &lt;3
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nanamincreampie · 3 months ago
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Dormmate Geto part 3
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Geto Suguru x Black plus size reader
(part 1) (part 2)
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Warnings: pussy eating, body worship, praise kink, missonary, nipple play, fingering, big dick Suguru, unprotected sex, p in v
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 Later that night, the tension from earlier still clung to the air, thick and heavy. You lay in bed, restless, tossing and turning. The events of the day had left you both shaken and confused, especially after what had happened in the afternoon. That moment replayed in your mind on a loop, the way you moaned his name without realizing he was there, and how you’d felt a strange, undeniable pull toward him since.
But sleep wouldn’t come. Instead, a nightmare crept into your mind, the same one that always haunted you when stress and anxiety mixed with exhaustion. It wasn’t long before you found yourself tiptoeing to Geto’s room, seeking the same comfort he had given you so many nights before. You hated how vulnerable you felt, but at the same time, Geto was always there. Always kind. Always warm.
You gently knocked on his door, your voice barely a whisper. “Geto… can I sleep with you tonight?” The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity, but finally, you heard soft footsteps and the door creaked open. There he stood, shirtless and a bit disheveled, his dark hair falling messily around his face. His eyes softened the moment he saw you, any trace of earlier confusion replaced with gentle concern.
“Nightmare again?” he asked, voice low and warm as he stepped aside to let you in. You nodded, rubbing your arms for comfort as you moved past him, feeling the familiar comfort of his room. The dim lighting and the soft scent of him in the air calmed you instantly. But tonight, something was different. There was an unspoken tension between you both, lingering from the afternoon.
You climbed into his bed, curling up under the covers as he slipped in beside you. His warmth surrounded you immediately, and the familiar sensation of being close to him should’ve calmed your nerves, but tonight, it did the opposite. Your heart raced in your chest, and your mind couldn’t stop replaying the sounds you’d made earlier,the way you’d moaned his name.
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For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft rustling of the sheets. But Geto’s presence felt different tonight. His hand lingered just a little longer when it brushed against yours, and his breath hitched when your thighs accidentally touched. You lay there, your back pressed against his chest, his body close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.
Suddenly, you felt his hand move, sliding down your waist slowly, almost hesitantly. “You’ve been on my mind all day,” he murmured softly, his lips dangerously close to your ear, his breath warm against your neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you… about what happened earlier.”
Your heart skipped a beat as his hand continued its path down, his fingers brushing over your thighs, lingering at the soft curve. “I heard you,” he admitted, voice dropping lower, his tone thick with desire. “I heard everything, how you were moaning my name. And I couldn’t stop imagining what you looked like, how beautiful you’d be…” His hand squeezed your thigh gently, fingers dipping between them slightly, sending a shiver down your spine.
Your breath hitched, but you didn’t move. His words, his touch, everything about him was intoxicating, pulling you in deeper. “Geto…” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly, but he cut you off, pressing soft kisses against your neck.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered against your skin. “Let me show you.” His kisses trailed lower, his hand moving up the curve of your thigh until his fingers were brushing against the hem of your sleep shorts. His lips followed the path of his hand, peppering kisses along your neck, your shoulder, until he reached the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
He tugged your shorts down slowly, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed his way down, leaving small hickeys along the inside of your thighs. You whimpered softly, your hips shifting as the anticipation built, and Geto groaned in response, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down in one slow, deliberate movement.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of admiration as his gaze roamed over your body. His hands gripped your soft thighs, spreading them apart slowly as he lowered his head between them. “No one could ever appreciate you the way I do,” he growled, his breath hot against your entrance as his lips hovered dangerously close.
Then, without warning, he licked a long, slow stripe along your folds, his tongue teasing your entrance before dipping inside. Your back arched off the bed, a soft gasp escaping your lips as the sensation of his mouth on you sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.
“Geto… oh god,” you whimpered, your thighs trembling as he buried his face between them, his tongue working magic as he tasted every inch of you. His grip on your thighs tightened, pulling you closer to his mouth as he flicked his tongue over your clit, swirling it in tight circles that made your body shake with pleasure.
He hummed against you, the vibrations sending another wave of heat through your core. “That’s it,” he murmured between licks, his voice thick with lust. “You taste so fucking good. I could stay down here forever.” His tongue plunged deeper into your entrance, curling inside you as his nose brushed against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body.
You could feel the tension building, that familiar coil tightening low in your belly as Geto’s tongue worked you closer and closer to the edge. He lapped at your juices, his pace steady but intense, his moans mixing with yours as he devoured you.
His fingers soon joined in, sliding inside you in sync with the flicks of his tongue, filling you up perfectly. You couldn’t stop yourself from writhing beneath him, your hands reaching down to grip his hair, tugging slightly as your thighs clamped around his head. “I’m so close…” you gasped, the pressure inside you building to an almost unbearable level.
Geto groaned against you, the vibrations from his deep, satisfied hum sending shivers through your body. His tongue moved faster now, flicking and circling your clit in a relentless rhythm while his fingers thrust deep inside you, curling to hit just the right spot. You were trembling, the coil inside you winding tighter, your breaths coming out in short, desperate pants as you felt yourself teetering on the edge.
Then, with one last flick of his tongue, you came undone. Your orgasm hit you hard and fast, your body jerking off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name, your voice shaking as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers, your entire body trembling. You could feel the rush of hot liquid leaving you, and as you squirted, soaking his hand and the sheets, Geto groaned in satisfaction, his tongue slowing as he gently coaxed you through your release.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, his voice rough and low, filled with dark admiration. “So beautiful…”
Geto didn’t stop, even as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. His mouth stayed on you, licking up every drop of your release while his fingers continued to move inside you, slower now, but still deliberate. You were panting, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath, but it felt like he wasn’t going to give you a break.
He pulled his fingers out slowly, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, your legs still shaking. He kissed your inner thighs tenderly, working his way up your body, his breath hot against your skin. When his face hovered above yours, you could see the glistening evidence of your pleasure on his lips. Without thinking, you pulled him down for a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he groaned into your mouth.
The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with an urgency that made your heart race again. His hands slid up your sides, fingers grazing the curve of your breasts before cupping them gently, his thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples. You moaned into his mouth, arching into his touch, the ache between your legs returning with a vengeance.
“Still so needy,” he murmured against your lips, his voice teasing, though laced with a deep hunger. “You’re insatiable.”
Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t deny it. You wanted more, needed more of him.
As if reading your thoughts, Geto pulled back just enough to peel off the last of his clothes. You watched, your breath catching in your throat as he stood before you, completely bare. The soft light in the room cast shadows over the toned lines of his body, highlighting every muscle, every curve of his form. But what drew your gaze , what made your mouth go dry was the size of him.
He was big. Thick and heavy, his length standing proudly between his legs, twitching slightly under your stare. Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help the way your lips parted in awe. He was bigger than anyone you’d ever been with, and the thought of him filling you, stretching you, sent a shiver down your spine.
Geto noticed your reaction, a smirk playing on his lips as he stroked himself slowly, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hand. “You like what you see?” he asked, his voice dripping with smugness.
You nodded wordlessly, unable to tear your gaze away. He chuckled darkly, climbing back onto the bed, his body towering over yours as he positioned himself between your legs. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, “I’ll take my time with you. I want to feel every inch of you.”
He reached down, lining himself up with your entrance, teasing the head of his cock against your slick folds. The sensation made you gasp, your hips lifting slightly, silently begging for more. But Geto didn’t rush. He pressed in slowly, just the tip, stretching you inch by agonizing inch.
You bit your lip, your fingers gripping the sheets as the pressure built, your body accommodating his size. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “So perfect.”
When he finally bottomed out, you were panting, your body trembling as you adjusted to the fullness. He was buried deep inside you, and the feeling of being stretched to your limit was almost too much but in the best way possible.
“God… Geto,” you gasped, your voice breathless as your hands found his shoulders, holding onto him as he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust. He groaned in response, his lips brushing against your neck as he kissed the sensitive skin there, his breath warm against your ear.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough and deep. “I could stay inside you forever.”
He began to move, his thrusts slow and measured at first, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in, filling you over and over again. The pace was torturous, every stroke deliberate, every movement designed to drive you crazy. You could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched you, the way he filled you perfectly, and it was intoxicating.
Your moans filled the room, mixing with his low, guttural groans as he picked up the pace. His hips snapped against yours, and the sound of skin slapping against skin only heightened your arousal. You could feel the familiar coil in your belly tightening again, the pressure building with every thrust.
“Fuck… you’re so wet,” he growled, his voice low and breathless. “So fucking good for me.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, your legs wrapping around his waist as he fucked you harder, deeper. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. The friction, the intensity, the sheer sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.
“Geto… I’m—” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, your words cut off by a moan as he hit that perfect spot inside you, over and over again.
“Come for me,” he urged, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
His words were all it took. With one final, deep thrust, your orgasm ripped through you, your walls clenching tightly around him as you came, your entire body shaking with the force of it. You cried out his name, your vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.
Geto wasn’t far behind. He groaned your name, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. You could feel him pulsing inside you, his cock twitching as he finally came, spilling himself deep inside you with a low, guttural moan.
He collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his body still pressed against yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets.
Finally, he rolled over onto his back, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You were incredible,” he whispered, his voice soft and tender now, a stark contrast to the rough, commanding tone he’d had just moments before.
You smiled sleepily, resting your head on his chest, your body still tingling from the aftermath of your orgasms. “So were you,” you murmured, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the warmth of him surrounding you like a protective shield
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crezz-star · 1 year ago
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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 )
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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.
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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.
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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!✨
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beebee3832 · 2 months ago
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Sweet Fae
Bear shifter!Price x Fairy!(fem)Reader (whose wings are paralyzed)
Tags: Predator/prey dynamic, size difference, just a bit scary, gore, death, shy reader, kinda awkward Price, a little fluff, building into fluff and smut (in future parts), CRINGE
This one is in Price's perspective!!
Note: Fairies in this fic are just really short, not super small like in Tinkerbell or something. Also, I made slight changes to this fic from the last time I posted it. Sorry for not uploading in a while!! I was pretty busy with life stuff.
Thanks for reading!! <3
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    I stood there, tears resting on my cheeks, and watched her walk away without a word. No response to my quiet plea, just a slight turn of her beautiful face to look back at me. Though not a word was said, our locked gaze held a meaning that couldn’t be shaken.
    We would meet again.
    …
    With swift motions, I swung my axe over and over again. Even though the sun was going to set soon, the temperature remained just as warm as it was in its peak. Sweat beaded on my forehead and slid down to drop on the forest floor.
    My day was filled with constant attempts to get my mind off of her. Her small frame, her doe-like eyes, the way she held my face like we’d known each other for years…
    No! My thought scolded me as I shook my head. These feelings were just the byproduct of living on one’s own for too long, which is how it would stay. I didn’t need anyone messing up what I had built for myself. I was better off being left to my own devices. Who knows what I was capable of? Well, I guess I know even more based off of last night.
    That last thought made my chest sink. How could I be so out of control? How could I let myself stay out so late? I was lucky that the moon wasn’t full or else that poor girl’s fate would’ve been much different.
    “Damn it!” My yell echoed throughout the crowded forest, causing birds to shoot straight up from the trees and fly away.
    I looked up and saw that dusk had already settled in, making me realize that I needed to head back to the house. I didn’t even need to chop up more wood today; I already had enough wood for the next couple of weeks, but I was running out of things to do to distract my thoughts from that sweet faery. That sweet fairy I almost devoured. “Fuck,” I muttered, my self loathing starting to consume me.
    I gathered up my tools and two of the logs I cut and started to make my way back. The rest of the wood could be collected tomorrow.
    I took long strides to make it back in time before nightfall. My feet ached by the time I eventually made it back, which made me wince with every step I took. I dropped the logs and my tools somewhere near the front of the house; I was too tired to care or notice. Nothing and no one would steal from me anyways. Most of the forest knew what I was, so they chose not to come near me. No people were around either, unless you count the very few others like me that live here. We all had our respective territories though, and usually one does not cross them.
    Just as I was about to enter the house, I heard a slight rustle from behind me. Then I noticed a familiar…smell that piqued my interest. That smell…I knew that smell. I was ruminating on that smell for the whole fucking day. I eagerly glanced behind me, something my mind didn’t approve of. I shouldn’t have been that excited. I was supposed to be okay with being alone. Company was unwelcome.
    Those thoughts were interrupted when I saw her. Everything was interrupted when I saw her.
    She was just a couple feet away. I could smell her so clearly. Soft rain paired with some kind of flower. My chest tightened with the urge to reach out and envelop her in my arms, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stare down at her with the same wide eyes she was giving me.
    Was she scared of me? Of course she is.
    Then why would she come back here? Was my mind toying with me? Did my loneliness finally grab hold of my sanity?
    She walked up to me and spoke in a soft and cautious tone.
    “Hello.”
    Hello. Hello.
    “Hello,” I muttered back awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Where was all my charm from the night before?
    She spoke again. “Can I come in?”
    Come in?
    I cleared my throat. “Yeah, sure, of course sweetheart. Come in,” I said, putting a warm smile on my face. I held the door open for her as she slowly walked inside. I noticed her scan my house like she did last night, searching for every possible escape I assumed. Smart girl. Still, it brought my smile down just a bit.
    I shut the door behind me and offered her a seat at my table. I already had a meal cooking before I went out on my useless attempts to distract myself.
    I gave her a portion and then sat down across from her, which once again reminded me of how small she was. Each wing of hers was smaller than my arms. She had to be at least a foot shorter than me, maybe more. I was definitely much stockier than her too. Such a perfect little thing compared to a monster like me. The bear in me was a little too excited over that.
    The sound of her voice startled me out of my trance.
    “You’re staring.” She looked at me with an almost fearful expression, which made me feel like shit. I was sure she was expecting me to kill her by then.
    “I-I’m sorry. I was just lost in thought, that’s all. Do you like the food?” I sputtered out.
    “It’s good,” she said with a slight smile on her face. Is she making fun of me or is she smiling because she likes it?
    She looked at me with thoughtful eyes. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here again, aren’t you?”
    Actually I’m wondering why I’m so obsessed with you.
    “You could say that, yes,” I said with a breathy laugh.
    She hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. I could tell that she was nervous to say it. My mind could only think of the worst things.
    “I wanted to see you again.”
    My eyes went wide for just a second. My heart exploded for just a second. She wanted to see me again? After I almost slaughtered her? After I had to save her from myself? After crying to her like a pathetic little boy?
    “You intrigue me. I’ve…I’ve never seen anything like you before,” she admitted shyly.
    I wished she’d never seen me in the first place. I wasn’t meant for sweet things like her and she most definitely wasn’t made for a savage thing like me.
    “You shouldn’t have had to,” I murmured, barely looking into her eyes now.
    She stood up from her seat and walked over to me. Even though she was standing, I was still a bit taller while sitting down. She looked up at me with those pretty eyes of hers, seemingly studying me.
    “I have a question,” I said.
    “What is it?”
    She was a forearms length away, which was too close for comfort. I could almost feel her breath on me. My heart skipped a beat.
    “Why?”
    Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why, what?”
    “Why would you want to see me again?” My voice was quiet.
    She smiled and let out a soft sigh. “I…I really don’t know.”
    Disappointment twinged inside me. Why was I disappointed? I should’ve wanted nothing to do with this fairy, but my heart wanted her to at least be a little glad about seeing me again.
    “I suppose I was just intrigued by you,” she said sheepishly.
    Just then, the hairs on my body stood up. My eyes widened and my body as I felt an unfamiliar presence close by, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the fairy in front of me.
    “Hey, what’s going on?” Her voice wavered.
    I ignored her. Something wasn’t right, and I needed to find out what. I quickly stood up and rushed to open the curtains to my window just a sliver, noticing that the sky was dark once again. Shit.
    I quickly closed the curtain in fear of my bear coming out in front of her. The moon’s light touching my face would become a disaster for her if I wasn’t careful. I didn’t even want to think about it.
    Suddenly, I heard it. Something was circling too close to my house. Something was ignoring the boundaries of my territory. The thought enraged my bear. Usually, I would kill a creature–or even a person–for this, but with her here, I couldn’t bring myself to. For some reason, I wanted her to know that she could be safe with me, even when that was far from the truth.
    I took a second to hone my senses to focus on what was outside…
    A shifter. The realization made my bear even more upset.
    I heard it sniffing the door, no doubt trying to find a way to get in. I glanced over to the pretty fairy and saw her eyes jolt open when she heard it too. My first instinct was to kill, but instead, I made my way over to her. I could see her shake from fear, making me even more angry at the stupid thing in my territory.
    “Sweethear–”
    Her eyes shot up at me. “Wh-what is that?” She said in a whisper that I could barely hear. I needed to do something fast. This stupid creature was ruining my chances at ever having some sort of connection with her. That very thought made my heart beat fast in my chest with panic. I had to do something to get it away from here without scaring her, but that was going to be very difficult to do.
    I gingerly held her hands in mine, looking into her wide teary eyes. “Listen to me. You’re gonna be alright sweetie, but you need to hide somewhere away from any windows alright?” I kept my voice low and steady. She nodded frantically and then went to hide under the kitchen table. Good enough.
    I returned my focus to the outside. That shifter would pay. My bear was already aching to turn and protect what’s ours. I decided that I’d have to sneak through one of the windows. The moon’s light would make me automatically shift but hopefully she wouldn’t see it. I ran to the back window, opened it, and jumped out.
    Fuck! I could feel the sharp pain all throughout my entire body as soon as the night’s air touched my skin. My bones broke and creaked and stretched in unimaginable ways. I could feel tufts of fur painfully shoot out from my body. I couldn’t even hear my grunts through the ringing in my ears.
    My vision blurred with tears until it became even clearer than ever before. The night wasn’t so dark anymore, signaling that I had fully turned. I would never get used to that feeling, no matter how many times I shifted.
    I wanted to take a breather like I normally did after my intense shifts, but I had no time. My bear was in control now and there was only one thought in his head.
    Protect what’s mine.
    My bear let out a roar, not thinking about how I was just trying not to scare the cute little fairy hiding in my house.
    The sudden thought of her suddenly turned my bear and I into a furious frenzy. Protect.
    I took quick and heavy steps toward the threat, making sure to make enough noise to distract it from getting in. When I finally saw it, my blood boiled even more. It was a wolf shifter. It had a long and droopy snout with saliva dripping from its mouth. Its dark fur would’ve made it almost impossible to see for the normal eye, but I could see it quite clearly. I could see every disgusting thing about it. Its hand, fit with long claws, had penetrated through the door, no doubt trying to unlock the door from the inside.
    Panic surged through me. This ends now.
    I charged over to it and shoved it down to the ground. I heard it let out a yelp, and then I felt claws slash through my back. The searing pain weakened me, making it easier for the wolf to gain the upper hand.
    It flipped me over with impossible strength, making my bear groan. I hurriedly hauled myself up before it could make another attack. He may have been strong, but he was no match for me. A bear was bigger than a wolf.
    He swiftly made his way back over to me to deliver another slash, but I caught his leg in my mouth and bit. Hard. The crunch echoed throughout the forest, as well as his pained howls. I stood to my full bear height, making him dangle from my mouth. I could taste blood starting to overflow in my mouth.
    The wolf continued to thrash and snarl in pain, making it harder to hold it up. The rest of its claws continued to slit through my skin, making me wince. Fuck.
    I whipped my head to the right to launch him toward a tree. Surprisingly, he got back up rather quickly.
    I went back down on all fours and stalked over to him, making sure to make my steps heavy. The ground almost shook below me. I looked down on him.
    Go. My bear said to it.
    The shifter just continued to bear its teeth at me, getting ready to throw another blow.
    I growled deep and thunderous. Go!
    Even a wolf of its size couldn’t help but be scared. It was stubborn, but not stupid. With one last snap of its teeth, it turned to limp away.
    The bear inside me huffed in amusement. What a stupid wolf, thinking it could invade my territory and survive. I jumped forward and crushed it below me. It howled and whined and shook until I opened my mouth wide and tore its neck open. The sound of bones shattering and tendons snapping filled me with a deep sense of satisfaction. I stayed there holding it in my jaws until he stopped moving completely.
    Once I knew the shifter was dead, my bear’s mind went back to the faery in my house. I walked back to the house and shifted back. The pain was almost dulled by the exhaustion that had taken over me, and I fell to the floor, naked and unconscious.
    …
    When I finally woke up, I heard a pretty voice humming. I opened my eyes and saw that it was my fairy. My heart swelled when I saw that she was tending to my wounds.
    “Hello sweetheart.”
    She jumped a bit, but then gave me a worried smile. “How are you feeling?”
    Wonderful with you here. “I’m alright.”
    She let out a sigh of relief. Such a caring girl. She should’ve been gone by now, but she was here, taking care of someone who didn’t deserve it.
    When she was done tending to my various lacerations, she turned away. “Let me go make you something to–” I interrupted her with a firm grip on her arm.
    “Stay.”
    She looked back at me confused. Cautious. Understandably so, because I didn't even know why I said that.
    “Lay next to me sweetheart.” When she still didn’t move, I gave her a playful pout. “It’ll help me feel better.” When she rolled her eyes and sighed, I knew I had won.
    We laid together in silence for a few minutes. It was unlike any silence I had ever known in my decades of solitude. It was warm. Comfortable. It was a silence that set my heart at ease. If I could, I would lay in it forever.
    “What’s your name?”
    Her pretty voice made my thoughts scatter away. I turned to her and saw her bright eyes gazing at me expectedly.
    “John. John Price.”
    A soft smile showed on her face. “John. I like that. It’s a sturdy name.”
    “Sturdy?” I let out a loud and genuine laugh. “I’ve never heard that before, sweetheart.” What a strange girl. I loved it.
    She looked almost embarrassed with that shy smile of hers. Adorable. “Well, you know, it just sounds like it would belong to a reliable person? I don’t know!” A small giggle from her filled the room and my heart.
    “What’s your name, little fairy?”
    She said her name.
    “Pretty.” Like her. I wanted to know everything about her. Every nook and cranny of her mind. I was going insane. My loneliness had taken a toll on me, I realized. What happened to leaving her alone?
    That one question opened up to hours of conversation. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. But there was something on my mind; something that I had been thinking about ever since I met her.
    “What happened to your wings?” I questioned in between a dip of silence in the conversation. That took her by surprise.
    “My–what?” She averted her eyes away from me, and I could tell she was growing nervous.
    Shit. Why did I say that? Am I a child? Why can’t I just hold my tongue? Stupid stupid stupid. “I-nevermind. It’s none of my business, I-I’m sorry–”
    She put a finger on my lips, silencing me. That one fraction of a touch made my mind go quiet. It seemed to have the same effect on her because she suddenly retracted her hand back. My bear whined.
    “No, no it’s,” she sighed, “it's okay. I get that question a lot.” The defeated look on her face made my heart ache.
    She took a deep breath. “My wings have always been like this. Paralyzed since birth. It’s extremely rare but I guess I got lucky.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Flying is such an important thing to the fairies. It’s sacred to us. It hurts when I can’t participate in our traditions. It hurts that they always look at me with that stupid pity of theirs. As if I’m not capable. As if I’m some sort of wilting flower.
    “It’s just hard being…different. Being the odd one out. Always.”
    “I know,” I said quietly. She looked at me in surprise with those beautiful eyes of hers.
    “You do?”
    “Yes.”
    She stared at me with expecting eyes, wanting me to say more. I wanted to. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to show her how much I understood. Why couldn’t I just get the words out? Why couldn’t I just open up?
    Because she would run. She would never want to spend her precious time with a savage like you. 
    My mind was right. She would never look at me the same if I told her why. Why I was cast away. Why I had to live alone all these decades. She would run just like the rest–and for good reason.
    I looked into her expecting eyes and pulled a stray lock of hair behind her pointed ear. A soft hue of pink painted over her face and ears and I smiled. With a hesitating hand, she pressed my hand to cup her cheek, now smiling back at me.
    “Let’s just go to sleep, sweetheart.”
    I could see the disappointment flash in her eyes, but I ignored it. It was best to not get too intimate with her. She wanted answers, but she wasn’t going to get any and she’d just have to deal with that.
    As I closed my eyes, expecting her to leave, I felt a brush of her hand on my jaw, almost caressing it, before it retracted just as quickly. I almost smiled.
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a-tortured-poets-quill · 4 months ago
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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
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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.
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seiwas · 2 months ago
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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."
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bogcreacher · 6 months ago
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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. 
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