#if you notice a problem with the perspective or anything no you didn't

[acoustic-eel]

feeling extremely normal about 'chester' and 'norris', as you can see

[larluce]

First I wanted to say hello and tell you that I love your works. They really have me on the edge of my seat every time I read them.

Second. Can you imagine that Merlin, in some new alternative universe, for some reason, upon arriving in Camelot, arrives with a baby? It's all still a Merthur ending, it should be noted.

Like, we know that Merlin was already a bit of an outcast in the village for the reason that nobody knew who his father was and even more so because strange things were always happening around him.

The situation gets much worse when he finds a crying baby in the middle of a burnt tent near the village.

Will and his mother try to help him for a while, but with the visits of the evildoers to the village becoming more and more frequent, Merlin and the baby have no choice but to go to Camelot.

And so the adventures begin!

Only now Arthur wonders if they can make crowns for babies, because he is willing to marry Merlin and legally adopt the baby as his own.

And Morgana… well, she and Gwen enjoy dressing up the baby in all the clothes from her old dolls. Not to mention that she notices that by taking naps with the baby she no longer has nightmares.

The knights become, in some way or another, glorified nannies. The servants and maids must chase after a baby who never stops causing mischief in the castle.

And Merlin just wants to survive colic season and potty train his baby… and everything would be easier if there weren't a murderer or a resentful wizard trying to kill Arthur every 3 minutes.

First, thank you so much for the compliments! 🥹🤧❤️

About the concept. I love it! I don't think going to Camelot to live would be Merlin or Hunith's first option for a baby that can't control their magic at all. So I firmly believe Hunith would send Merlin with the baby there so Gaius can take them to a druid camp so they could take refuge there.

The problem is, before Gaius can do so, Merlin is made the prince's personal manservant. Merlin can't exactly deny the king and he does need the money to take care of his baby so he decides to stay to Gaius dismay. Gaius and Merlin try to keep the baby hided at first so they take turns taking care of her (in my mind is a her) in Gaius' tower in secret. It works out for some weeks but then the plague (Nimueh's Afanc) happens and Arthur searches Gaius' tower.

Arthur: (enters Merlin's room) Merlin: (running inside) Arthur, wait! Baby: (sitting on the bed, looks up at Arthur and gives a cute giggle) Arthur: (Turns to Merlin slowly) Merlin? Merlin: Yeah? 😅 Arthur: Why is there a baby in your bed? Merlin: (in panic, shouts the first thing that comes to his mind) She is mine! Arthur: ... Arthur: What? 😧 Merlin: (repeats more quietly but more firmly) She is mine. (runs to hold her up and embraces her) She is my daugther. Arthur: (thinking) But... but he is so young. (says) Where's the mother? Merlin: (with pain as he remembers the burnt tent) She passed away. Arthur: (his heart hurting for Merlin) I'm so sorry. But Gods Merlin, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have given you so many chores if I knew... (thinking) And I almost sacked you. I almost sacked a single father with a baby in arms! (says) And why the hell are you hiding her? Merlin: I... wasn't sure if I could keep her. Arthur: Of course you can keep her! What kind of master do you think I am? Knight x: (from outside) Sire? Arthur: (shouts back) In a minute! (to Merlin) What's her name? Merlin: Brigitta. Arthur: (repeats softly and smiles) Brigitta.

From then on, Arthur doesn't give Merlin as many chores and raises his salary considerably. And then everybody else finds out about Briggitta and go "I've only met Brigitta for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself".

Some events would change, obviously, and some would remain the same but with a new perspective. I don't think Merlin would have time to make Lancelot a fake seal, for example, having to look after Brigitta and all. I can imagine Lancelot becoming Brigitta's first unnofficial babysiter, then Arthur makes it official so poor Lancelot has a salary and a place to stay in Camelot. The Poisoned Chalice episode would remain the same, except Arthur would be more in panic mode and desperate because MERLIN HAS A DAUGHTER! BRIGITTA CAN'T LOSE HER FATHER TOO!

I think it would be The Beginning of the End where Arthur and Morgana find out about Brigitta's magic and Merlin's magic. Not because they discovered her, surprisingly, but Merlin decided to tell them all the truth about her and himself after seeing how they saved Mordred. Also, since Merlin saw Brigitta's possible future in Mordred, he wants to leave Camelot too to keep her safe. Screw all what the dragon told him about destiny, his daugther comes first.

So Merlin and Brigitta are about to leave with Mordred with the druids. They are having a heartfelt goodbye with Arthur, who scorted them there, but then...

Brigitta: (cries very loudly in Merlin's arms and the earth starts shaking a bit) Merlin: I know, I know, baby, but we have to go. Brigitta: (cries more loudly and extends her little arms to Arthur) Arthur: (barely containing his tears) I'll miss you too, Biddy. But this is the best for you- Brigitta: ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (open his eyes wide) What did she just said? Brigitta: (still crying and making grabby hands at him) ATHU, ATHU, ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes) She said my name... Merlin, she said my name! (grinning widely) Let me hold her one more time, please! Merlin: (gives Brigitta to Arthur) Druid leader: (urgently) We need to leave now! Merlin: (looking at Arthur and Brigitta tenderly and smiles) Leave, we'll stay.

I also can imagine Nimueh going after Brigitta's life instead of Hunith, and having to confront not only a very furious Merlin, but a feral protective prince.

That's how far my imagination can go. If you have any ideas of how Merlin and Arthur or other character would act in other episodes now with Brigitta in the equation, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be happy to read you 🥰

[resu-w-ana]

Merlin noticed it soon after the magic ban was lifted.

Every time someone used magic around Arthur, the king flinched.

Really, Merlin wasn't expecting Arthur to embrace all magic users with love and trust. He really shouldn't do something stupid like that.

He wasn't sure if Arthur knew about his own reaction or not. It hurt nonetheless.

Constant paranoia and perspective to be burned alive took the best of his desire to show people his magical talents. But the freedom was intoxicating, and whatever Arthur was afraid of magic or not, he would never took it's freedom again.

He had enough work as newly appointed Court Sorcerer to not let his magic idle. The knight and Gwen were here to enjoy pretty tricks too.

So Merlin reduced his magic around the king to doing only necessary things.

Making Arthur comfortable were more important than Merlin's desire to enjoy the beauty of magic with his king.

But the problem accrued from where he least expected.

«Why won't you use magic?»

«I- Ehm, It's possible to do without magic just as easy.»

«I saw you moving dinner plate because you were to lazy to stretch yesterday.»

«I thought I was alone! How do you even know that? Were you spying on me?»

«Oh, come on, Merlin. As if you are that interesting. Doors were open, I was just passing by.»

Even if doors were open, Arthur couldn't accidentally catch him, considering the fact, that there was only one way to Merlin's tower.

Arthur's weird explanation aside, the crisis was averted.

Or so Merlin thought. Because Arthur hadn't stopped.

Every time Merlin did something remotely hard by his hand, Arthur asked the same question: «why won't you use magic?»

Now Merlin was the one running out of weird explanations.

He had no desire to explain his reasoning to Arthur, nor asking Arthur for something he clearly wasn't comfortable with.

Merlin even paid attention to king behaviour around magic more precisely, in case it had changed. But no, the flinching was still there.

Contradicting his own reaction, Arthur cornered him with more determination them ever before.

«So tell me, why knights have no idea about yours so called "proper use of magic".»

«Well... They do know very little about proper use of anything. Especially Gwaine.»

«Yeah, Gwaine, who's apple your turned from green to red because he wished for another variety.»

«I-, Merlin started, as Arthur continued:

«Or should I mention fire figures you do for Leon constantly? The story about Lance's and Gwen's dinner table? Gaius' flying potions?"

Merlin felt guilt creeping onto him.

«Do I need to continue? Because I'm cer–»

«No! No! I got your point!»

«So?»

«So...»

«Explain yourself.»

When Merlin still hesitated, Arthur decided to use lethal weapon: «you promised no more secrets.»

Merlin deflated. «It's not a secret.»

«Then tell me.»

«I've noticed you've tensed whatever magic was around. Decided to spare you the trouble.»

«Oh.»

Suddenly, Arthur wasn't angry anymore. He looked sad and... Guilty?

«It's okay» and «I'm sorry» they said at the same time, than stared at each other.

«You have nothing to be sorry for!» Merlin argued.

«It's not nothing and it's not okay!» Arthur replied.

«That's why I didn't want to tell you! Now you feel like you're doing something wrong or not enough or whatever!»

«Well, that's because I do!»

«No, you're not!»

Arthur sighed. «Look, Merlin... You're not wrong, magic does make me nervous. For all my life, every time someone used it, it was with intention to hurt me.»

He stopped, thinking about his next words. «You are an exception. Yours feel safe.»

«Safe?»

«I don't know how to describe it. It feels warm and... safe. I like it. And I like watching you do magic, too.»

«Oh.»

«Yeah.»

«I'm sorry.»

Arthur smiled. «You can repent your crimes by stopping hiding your magic from me,» he said in playfully serious tone.

Merlin smirked. «Of corse, sire. What would you like to watch now?»

[champagnedstappen]

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader. This is a simple Christmas blurb. ;)

Perhaps his skin becomes so much lighter is because the colour of snow. There's theory where someone's skin is usually getting more light if the background is also light and not dark. Maybe the theory also works on him. Because in your eyes, he looks more... How can you say it? Glowing mayhaps.

You look at him thoughtfully, when you thought this man couldn't be more fine, then he always proved it. Clearly this is one of his moments. He looks at you, abandoning his skiing pole on the ground full of snow. You're shivering, sure you're using many layers, but holy shit, you're not used to cold temperatures. Clearly will never be.

"Mon cœur... Are your still shivering?" He asks. You are about to scoff, not enjoying any questions from him while he asked it with hint of humour—the urge to laugh at you, you can see it on his eyes, you know him too well anyway.

As he try reaching you while walking, leaving his pole with his friends—having conversation about skiing you clearly don't understand about, you're kicking some of the snow on the ground. You should be enjoying the trip. Last year, Charles tried to get you on board on the trip, but failed at the attempt since you were so against the cold temperatures, knowing how bad you can be.

You snap jokingly, well you can't be mad at him nonetheless. "What do you think, Leclerc?" At that, he laughs and finally standing in front of you. Hands on your waist, creating some patterns you don't really pay attention to in this situation.

"My love, I'm not laughing. I'm fully concerned," he continues. Making his face to full acting, trying to look like he's not going to make fun of you. Yet his eyes are soft, looking at you like you're his favourite person to be with, like you're all that matter. Making you knees buckle.

It's your turn to laugh before sighing. "I don't know why you asked me to be part of the trip. I can't even do anything, I'm only slowing you and the guys."

His green eyes—which you've noticed since you first met looking straight at you. There's some frowns that you hate so much. During the season, you knew how much pressure he had. Ferrari battling for the World Constructor Championship added to his shoulder, making it a cherry on top, you'd say.

After Abu Dhabi, his mood worsened. Loosing the title to McLaren certainly made his mind wander over something not certain and useless in your perspective. He kept blaming himself, thinking all What-Ifs, if only he did this, if only he didn't, if only he was better.

You hate it. You think his frown and depressive stare are your biggest nemesis. Something that you wish Avengers could fight like when they fought against Thanos.

You remember those days where you couldn't attend the Grand Prix, having jobs you needed to be at, he called you after the free practice, qualifying, hours after race—especially after bad results, he tends to be alone after bad race, not wanting to throw some tantrums or putting his anger at you. It leaves some bad spots on your emotions, seeing him so sad and blaming himself adding your personal problems with the sports.

You just want this trip to be his healing list. You don't want to worsen his days by making his holiday worse than ever.

Yet he shrugs it off. "Baby, what are you taking about? I only agreed to this winter trip so we can have our time together. If you didn't agree, I wouldn't too. I'd rather stay at home, maybe doing something funny while decorating Christmas tree with you, ma chérie."

These are the moments where you are sure that before you meet him, you never understood the situation of love. Back in the days you only think that love was impossible for you. Because in your mind, you thought, what could be love from you? There's nothing special. You're just... You. You're no model, you're no extravaganza, you're... No special.

But then there's interesting Monégasque who does anything to make you feel loved. Who's every actions makes you like you're everything. Who's actions are calculated, proofing how he would do anything for you.

Just, maybe, if you are loved too after you met him.

He continues. "We can stay in any city that you want. Summer, winter, any season doesn't matter. And like other every cities than exist in this world, there is city in my heart where you are its only population."

"Oh, Charles Leclerc. You're a fucking simp. Now teach me."

Yes, this moment definitely on your 'He's the proof where I am loved too' list.

"و في قلبي مدينة ��ُل سُكانها أنتي.'

"And there is a city in my heart where you are its only population." By Mahmoud Darwish.

[affableramen]

Arranged marriage!Pantalone x reader Ch. 1

no smut wedding night angst+comfort (in some ways)

there’s one suggestive joke pantalone makes in the end but the fic itself remains completely sfw pantalone is not 375 y.o. here

note: one person said that she gets strong virgin vibes from Pantalone, so… you get what you asked for xD

Genshin impact masterlist

divider by @anitalenia

Ch. 1

“What will you give me as a collateral?”

The clinking sound of mugs filled the room. There was intense scent of black tea in his private office, though, the lingering smell of cigarettes was much stronger and obvious than the hot drink.

Two men were sharing somewhat a tea ceremony, one that was taller and rather emaciated had his clothes indicate he’s not at all poor. He held his cup of tea in a relaxed but dry manner, his expression didn't really express anything but contempt and his overall look screamed big ego. The other man, shorter and less sophisticatedly dressed who was sitting in front of him, held his cup with a trembling hand. As soon as the first man noticed the hint of anxiety in his motions, he placed his other hand on top to provide support.

“My lord—”, his voice was no less trembling than his hands.

“My lord!” The richer man parodied him. “Seriously, get a grip of yourself”, he took a sip of his tea, sighed, pleased with the taste, and put the mug back on the small plate. There was no behaviour more rude and cold than his current. As if the person were not sensible at all, he could only sadistically smile, addicted to the sense of power in his grasp. “I shall ask once again—what will you provide me with as a collateral?”

The man abandoned his tea and leaned forward hastily to grasp the richer man’s blazer in his calloused old hands. 

“I used to be wealthy—just like you sir—please have mercy on me! We are very much alike! Don’t swallow me and my family—oh, I beg of you!”

It took a few seconds for the magnate to process the unwanted physical contact that he used to receive from his customers or debtors frequently, especially when they were borderline begging him. “Get your hands off me!” 

Magnate’s aura was extremely condescending, if not disgusting, but the debtor knew he had to be obedient and less repulsive in order to get what he wanted. 

“You’re not easy to please, Mr. Pantalone”, he stepped back and ruffled his hair, clueless what he should do. 

“That I am.”

The audacity he had should have been quite natural for the man of rich fortune however from the customer’s perspective it looked like the problem was not entirely in his wealth but rather something inside this man, something he was made of that made you feel shivers run down your spine. He had such aura that could be described not only frightening but exhausting too. The poor, defensless man had become so desperate that he started pitying himself, although he knew that the banker evidently felt the same for him. It was horrible! He never felt so looked down on in his life ever. But that man did not leave him a chance, he was relentless and cruel. Oh, how cruel he was - to drive a poor father to such despicable crimes!

“I might have something—someone—as a collateral.”

Pantalone’s lips from had shifted from the sullen thin line into an eerie smirk. The poor man had already made his choice, alas, he couldn't avoid the contract now! But was it right? Was it all right to give his eldest daughter… to this man?

“This man! What is he like—I hope he doesn't beat ladies?”

You roll your eyes at the back of your head and let out a groan.

“I don’t know, little one, guess we’ll have to learn that won’t we?” You touch the cold marble of your bed table, the two of you sitting on your big, king-sized bed in the room for guests. The room looks not less than one assorted for a princess. You continue with a softer tone, sharing your sister’s worries.

“I only met him once. I couldn't even see his face properly - he gave me a short, rather dissatisfied stare and ran out of the room, the heels of his court shoes were louder than the words he uttered.”

“He doesn't sound like he’s interested at all in his marriage, Y/N…” 

“Well, he better not be—as I’m never going to fall for him! I hate rich people!”

“But we are rich people, Y/N. Are we not?”

You comb your sister’s hair, putting some of the flowers, dead flowers, into the braids of her hair.

“We were. Now we’re just like everyone else—average if not less—and we’re going to be looked down upon. You have to remember that.”

There is a sigh that escapes from your lips as you run your hands through the ‘gifts to the bride’: various jewellery items and other marvellous accessories which have not yet grabbed your attention for some reason, as the bigger underlying problem is occupying your mind.

“This man won't go easy on us, we’re just ants for him.”

The dress sits tightly but rather conveniently on you. At least they got something right - your body measurements. Your check yourself, the feeling of fabrics convinces you of their high quality, though it does not make you feel any less anxious. Your sister shouldn't know of your worries and how your heart shrinks at the thought your wedding in a half an hour. And the thought of the wedding night, which is more dreadful than anything else. But you can't let her know it, it’s still a child, she must not lose hope, otherwise there will be two depressed daughters in the family which is not exactly your dream plan.

“His mansion is rather big, isn't it?” you ask unexpectedly, staring at the window. So many people have gathered already, as if the whole city wants to watch your wedding, or, rather, your embarrassment. You think back: you could escape this outcome and run from your house as soon as you heard what your father did, but you did not. Perhaps you didn't want? You feel confused with yourself. It must be the natural desire to help your family that has made you stay and witness yourself being scooped by the unexpected wedding circumstances.

“Big…and cold”, she adds. 

“Well that’s because you’re not wearing a scarf, my darling. We’re in Snezhnaya, it never has warmth in it. Will you wear a scarf when we’re outside? Promise me.”

The stubborn child wastes a few moments thinking before she rolls her eyes (just like you did before) and utters not eagerly:

“I promise, I will put on a scarf.”

You boop her nose gently and turn around to see your cousin enter the room. He is not the most sociable person, in fact he’s rather shy, that’s why upon seeing you in your wedding dress he only whispers:

“Nice.”

“Why, thank you. I didn't expect you to visit me—I mean, not that I am unhappy.”

“I just thought…” he stands there not making an attempt to step closer. He is always like this - and he never gives out hugs. “That you might need some support.” 

“Thank you, really, I appreciate it, especially from you who is not exactly extraverted.”

Your cousin clenches and unclenches his hand a couple of times apart from biting his lips with obvious nervousness. It seems he’s not sure at all what to say as he has never before express his affection, hardly to his mother, by the way.

“I just wanted you to know, if that man—I mean, your future husband—hurts you in some way—you can rely on me. I..I will protect you.”

His voice appears to be slightly trembling but he finishes his sentence, filled with sincerity, successfully. You and your sister are both stunned for a couple of seconds before you finally manage to thank him once again.

“Well, if he does, I will not hesitate to grab a frying pan and smack him properly.”

Your little sister encourages you with a burst of giggle. The cousin gives out a soft smile and shares a few moments united with family. Not long after he nods to you briefly and leaves you to prepare for a few last minutes.

“Y/N, are we going to live together? All in this big mansion?”

“I don’t know, honey. That is if he decides so.”

The wedding ceremony starts and the day remains unapologetically cold. You mentally thank the tailors for providing you with a fur outerwear on top of your wedding dress, otherwise you would simply turn into an icicle yourself. When you start walking towards the altar you pray to the archons that you won’t twist your feet. You are not wearing the highest of heels, but if there was one person who’d argue that it was not a hassle to walk over the ice in the heeled shoes… well, they’d be a fool. 

You pictured him in your head many times, especially given the slight knowledge of his features that you memorised from your first meeting. But they are not enough, of course. What could you possibly comprehend about a man you saw only poor thirty seconds of your life? What was his core, his dreams? Does he beat women? - as your sister inquired. There was nothing. And your parents did not seem to be eager sharing a bunch of words on him. There was no praise, but no criticism whatsoever. What was he? What does he hide from the world? And why, by the name of Tsaritsa did he evn agree to this arranged marriage at all? Is he even worthy of—

He.

Is extremely handsome and radiates pure self righteous aura. Wavy blue-black locks neatly combed and styled into a middle parting, a bow on his little ponytail swung languidly on his shoulder. One streak of hair grey, either for style purposes or age - you couldn't know. He wears eyeglasses, the occassional sun light gleams on the glass, hiding his eyes. 

You step closer and closer to the altar before the both of you are just as supposed to be. Your eyes meet and you ought to judge him for his acceptance of such hideous collateral, but his whole appearance prevents you from being aggressive, at least right now.

“We’ve never been acquainted properly”, you say, but the words appear slightly softer than expected, almost as if you are being polite with him. No, that sucks, that’s not what you wanted.

“It was for the good of our further relationship. I would dislike unnecessary drama”, he responds, his lips periodically moving from your face to your wedding dress before he turns to the crows and listens to the priest’s speech.

His answer confuses you. “Some things are better left unsaid”, you think. Given the closeness you two share right now, you get a proper understanding of his appearance - the man looks not younger than five-and-thirty, yet there is hardly a single wrinkle on his face. There are, however, dark circles under his eyes, signalling that his sleeping schedule might not be the best. It’s also not difficult to guess that he is an office worker and, to your opinion, a very polished one. His looks are refined, distinguished and so far he seems very well-mannered, knowing the process of wedding all too well. It’s a good sign, after all, it feels much easier to go through this process with someone experienced and not shaking unlike yourself.

“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of Marriage, to love and honour each other for as long as you both shall live?" The priest asks.

You get the familiar feeling of your heart shrinking and you cannot stop yourself from being overwhelmed with thoughts rushing into your head, begging you to say ‘no’, but you do not really have a choice anymore. You could have escaped, earlier, but now? No, you should proceed to this path. There is nothing you won’t handle, even if it is an arranged marriage to the richest man in the world.

“Okay—I mean—yes, of course. I do. I am.”

“And so do I”, the rich man responds.

His cologne is subtle and not irritating which cannot help but revoke some of your stress. But once you get a grasp of yourself, pulling out of your thoughts, you realise that the lot is staring at you.

The man beside you clears his throat.

“Put the ring onto my finger”, he says gently, and he does not need to repeat that as you take the ring in your sweaty hands, feeling so lightheaded that you fear you might collapse just here and now. Your groom senses your anxiety, it is evident in his eyes, but for some reason he only stares at you, not rushing you into the action, instead carefully waiting for you to do as supposed.

You take his hand in yours and start slowly pushing the ring. Finally you manage, but upon letting his hand loose you notice how, despite of him escaping the age signs on his face, he has incredibly dry hands. You take a notice of it even firmer when he puts the ring on your finger after. Though, you are not given much time to comtemplate your observation when the most important question is raised:

“Exchange the kiss that will confirm your bond.”

You feel like fainting, but before you do, he raises your chin and delivers a kiss to your lips. The touch so brief, it was but a peck — nothing more, nothing less. And so, the bond becomes official.

You’re led by his staff to wait in the bedroom. Strangely, there is no maids here, but a butler - a considerable old, but wise-looking man from whom you get no ill vibes at all. He politely asks you to wait in your husband’s bedroom, apologising from on behalf of his master that he has some finishing business to attend. You walk to the bed and caress the silky sheets with your hand. And there you are, in his bedroom, waiting for your wedding night, but Pantalone is still not here. You try to reassure yourself, a weak attempt to negotiate it all inside you, to convince you that nothing bad will happen. It’s just marital activities - all newlyweds have to perform it. But the fact that you’re just given to him as a part of the contract stings somewhere deep in your soul.

It’s not really a long wait when the man finally enters the room, the doors swung wide open and he shuts them gently. He turns his head to look at you, you exchange glances before he removes his thin, frail-looking hands from the door and walks up to the bed very, very slowly. You immediately rise and rush to him, though your feet feel like they’re glued to the carpets. You stop in front of him, the white wine stain still on his shirt. Luckily it is not as visible as if it would be, were it for the red wine, you think.

“I’m once again sorry. My hand slipped, I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of everyone. Let me—” you do what an obedient wife should do, gripping the edges of his shirt and attempting to relieve him of it. But once your finger touches the first button, he catches your hand and slowly but assertively pushes it back.

“I’d rather you not.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not touch me.”

“Oh—I though we—”

“You don't say.”

Your hand is frozen in place and you wait until Pantalone says something. What is the meaning of this? Is this some sort of his mind game? This damn businessman, for archon’s sake, he’s perfectly shady and possibly one hell of a manipulator.

“They are not going to live here”, he suddenly says, breaking the tense silence.

“What?”

“The question you asked before.” 

“Ah, right…” It’s the question you discussed with your little sister. How did he evem learn about it? 

Your expression falters. You would rather prefer you all together in one place, but perhaps… perhaps it was for the best. Pantalone turns away, he starts rummaging in his wardrobe in search of something but still conscious of your questions.

“But they will be welcomed guests, right?”

He stops in his tracks, pulling something from the wardrobe and closing it tightly. 

“Any time.”

Pantalone places a wrapped gift onto the bed, seems to be neatly wrapped clothes. Right, your wedding night…

“So we won’t…” you lower your voice, and then your eyebrows raise in confusion but it was for a good reason. What a relief. 

“Spend the night? No, there won’t be anything like that. It’s just that we’re going to share this bed for one night until your family is perfectly convinced that we consummated.”

“But—what are we going to do then?”

“Sleep. Change (into your silk night robe I gave you) and don't ask me questions”, he walks to the further part of the room, his hand clenching around the handle. “I’ll be changing in the bathroom. Let me know when you’re finished dressing and I may come out.” He disappears in the bathroom with the soft click.

Really?!

You look at the wrapped gift: it’s not a lace lingerie, not even a seductive set of nightwear - it’s a dark burgundy night robe, perfectly covered and silky. You start easing yourself of the wedding dress - thank Archons yours was not of complicated designs, it was rather simply-looking, but obviously made of luxurious fabric, tailored privately for your body only.

Strange, but he has no maids in the mansion. Otherwise you’d be already served and helped.

After some suffering you manage to escape the wedding dress and put it neatly onto the chair. The gems sewn onto the dress were still shimmering with cold, moonlight-like twinkles.

“May I come out?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

The man slowly opens the door, he himself wearing a tightly wrapped black night robe and a pair of trousers, his clothes showing not at inch of his skin except for the small area down his neck. But even witnessing him covered so properly, you cannot deny that his physique is rather bony.

“You have been sweating”, he walks up to the windowsill where a tall glass bottle is stood, and fills a cup with it.

“Sorry?” He offers you the cup before you can get even more confused.

“At the altar. I suspect you might be dehydrated.”

“Oh, I was nervous.”

“It’s a natural response to stress. Drink this.” You waver, and seeing your reluctant self Pantalone sighs with clear dissatisfaction. “It’s just water, not poison.”

You nod to him and gulp it all in one go. Yes, you were clearly dehydrated…

“Are you afraid?”

“Not of you, but of the consequence”, trying to make the conversation up you switch to another topic artlessly. “Why don’t you have female staff?”

Pantalone seems a bit sensitive to your question at first but he covers it pretty well, putting on a solemn smile.

“I have a cook who is a woman.”

“Thank God”, you say and immediately mentally scold yourself. Perhaps it’s the alcohol talking in you, loosing up you tongue and… senses. “I didn’t mean—”

“You seem relieved, or reassured, so I don't mind.”

The empty glass is soon rejected and you face the bed, contemplating. He did say he wants your family to believe the two of you had performed marital duties, which gives you an itchy feeling.

“There were so many people during our ceremony. I thought it was supposed to be humble.”

“They were fangirls. I wish it were humble, though, I am lacking the blessing of such desirable peacefulness.” 

“Do women… often act like this in front of you?”

He responds subtly, but his answer is enough to make you an understanding.

“I wouldn't say it’s not uncommon.”

“I don't know if I should feel sorry or happy for you.”

“Oh yes, women throwing themselves at me, it must be such a terrible life”, the corner of his lip twitches in a strange way.

At last the both of you sit on the bed. Pantalone takes his place on the edge of the bed, almost at its tail, as if making a futile attempt to not be a source of your distress. 

“When you said ‘until your family is perfectly convinced we consummated’, could you enlighten me what you meant by that phrase?”

His response to you is brief and dry.

“Your mother was most worried about me producing children with you. Her, and your father have two children, so she expressed to me her earnest concern for you to have heir with me. She is a smart woman and knowing that I do not come from an elite background myself she had not a single qualm to ask of me such audacious thing.”

“And… what did you say?”

Isn’t it laughable? Her daughter has just been given to an unknown man (well, actually a very famous man of high standing, but you do not know anything about him!) and instead of worrying wildly over your wellbeing in relationship with this man, she pushes him into consummation? At that moment you did not know if you harbour more disrespect and disappointment to your dad or mom. 

“I said that she does not have a single reason to worry.”

“But how will anyone know that me and you slept together if technically we did not? Did not you say you wish me not to touch you?”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Your mother shall be convinced for now, and then… Well, I cannot speak for the future”, Pantalone leans closer, but not in a predatory way, in fact you feel like he eyes everything around you, except for you. 

“Grab the headboard.”

“What?”

“Grip. The. Headboard.” 

You submit to his harsh demand and do as he says. What the hell is he trying to make you do?

“Now shake it like you mean it.”

You shake it, and the wood makes a… suggestive sound.

Pantalone nods, his voice gets quieter, much quieter.

“Good. That will do it. Now, let me try something…”

The man grips the tail of the bed and with a sudden tug the bed moves in place, making the same creaking noise that you just pulled out from it. Your eyes widen. Oh my god, so that’s what he’s trying to do. He wants your parents, who are staying the night, to be aware of—

“Your mother expects me to properly court you, and the marital activities are of course a part of it. Now, please shake it a few times more.”

You do that, but mentally you lack the focus on the wood shaking in your arms. You think about something else. The mysteries take a toll on you.

“You’re not going to actually make children with me, I presume?”

Pantalone stops his act, his hand clenching the wooden tails. There is something about his look that speaks of innocence, though it’s not exactly on the nose.

“No… I’m not interested”, he stops your hand, with unknown tenderness in his touch. “Oh dear, don’t shake it so violently - they might think I’m being rough with you.”

“Right, sorry.” You shake the headboard, lightweightly. Wait, do people even talk during such activities? You doubt it. But Pantalone speaks quietly, almost whispering to you things, so you pray the two of you won’t be heard blabbering.

“I think they’ve heard enough. We should stop.”

“Hm. That should suffice.”

The performance turns out to be full of fun and upon finishing it you realise how your worries have gone away. You almost feel at ease, and to think that the two of you did not partake in consummation but instead played a little game is almost endearing… almost…

“Fine”, you pull yourself away from dreaming. Your voice a bit firmer than usual, and Pantalone’s attention is grabbed instantly. “Honestly, I’m tired. And I assume, we can't leave our bedroom tonight? Even for a cup of tea?”

“Can’t risk being spotted. Do you have any problem?”

“No… May I use the toilet?”

“To your left.”

“Thank you.”

Just when you leave the bed you feel a soft yawn and request following:

“But please, make it quick. I want to sleep too.”

You return soon, just as he kindly asked you to, and find yourself reluctant to join him in the bed. You don't even know him well, how could you just slip under the same blanket with him?

Pantalone senses your worries almost immediately, and you become even more flustered upon realisation how evident your fear is. But keeping in mind that the man has not touched you except for the ceremony, you let out a long pent up breath and pull the cover to tuck yourself in. The bed part was quite fun from your perspective.

“I’m a very light sleeper. Please, try to not kick me with those long legs.”

“I will behave.”

Pantalone sighs too, he pulls a cover a bit to his side and faces you with his back. Rude or just cautious?

“You don’t seem to be a very sociable person.”

“I find social interaction rather tedious.”

That said a person who was so effortlessly easy-going in public! Or maybe it was simply just a façade that you failed to wrap your head around.

“I thought differently. The way you carried yourself in public… I thought you were wholeheartedly enjoying those interactions.”

“They are but a part of my job. I am a businessman, I have to be able to, basically, talk.”

“I wouldn't dare to doubt you in this aspect.”

“Thank you.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Make it quick.”

“If you do not use me for… heir…. then what do you need me for, I wonder?”

After this tingling question is raised, Pantalone takes a long moment to think. You even suspect he considers you too audacious and unworthy to ask that, but instead he just responds in his usual dry manner:

“I might have my reasons, but that’s enough information for you today. I don't wish to overwhelm you. Sleep tight.”

“Good night, Pantalone.”

“Good night.”

You now face your back to him. Well, all’s settled, whatever tomorrow brings you got to survive it. The worst has happened, there are only a few shallow uncertainties left. 

[shun-nie]

Hii!! If you dont mind writing something dark. Can you write satosugu with reader who often gone because she is sort of depressive and just want to run away. Reader is cool and collected in outside but never really expressed anything about herself. Thank youu in advanced

SatoSugu x reader

->You're a grade 1 sorcerer, and literally bestfriends with everyone. The problem is, you never smile. Nah, that's not your thing. But you can understand everyone, and look from their perspective before comforting them. You're a close friend of theirs, but how come they don't know anything about you??

Warnings!!!! Dark themes, gn!reader, mentions of suicide and death, swearing!!!!

"Man, where is Y/N? It gets boring when they're not around." Satoru sighed and pouted, not liking the silence in the room.

"That's for you to ask and nobody to know." Shoko replied with a bored tone, she was used to you disappearing out of nowhere. Now, don't get her wrong. She is worried about you, and she actually tried to search for you one time, but couldn't find you even if she was looked around for 3 hours.

Suguru was looking at the floor with an unreadable expression, the trio was just sitting around and doing nothing other than joking around with eachother. But Suguru felt off, one month ago, as everyone was hanging out together, Haibara said he never saw you smile. You just shrugged and told them "There's nothin' funny.", then Satoru and Haibara teamed up to make you smile, making dumb expressions and making Nanami sigh out of disappointment. ((It didn't make you smile at all.))

Suguru started to notice; how you would look out of window deep in thought, how you would disappear after the missions, how you would stare with an unreadable gaze when Suguru and Satoru laughed at their own jokes. Suguru opened up about this to Satoru, and he said he saw you sitting with your head down with fists clenched once. Now, Suguru was a smart man, he could connect the dots but he couldn't understand you. Not when he doesn't even know when your birthday is—

Wait.

"Do you guys know Y/N's birthday?" Suguru suddenly asked, Satoru and Shoko shared a look before opening their mouths to reply—

Wait, did you ever mentioned your birth date?

"...I..don't.." Shoko felt ashamed, beacuse you knew everything about her. How she liked her coffee, which foods she prefered, the clothes she liked to wear, the movies she liked to watch..and she doesn't even know your birthday? Satoru was wearing a similar expression, he actually opened up to you about his problems. How everyone was expecting him to be the best, how he felt too much pressure on his shoulders, how people didn't see him as Satoru but as Gojo. You comforted him, you put yourself in his place and both of you talked shit about higher-ups for the next hours. Then you turned to him and said :

"People sucks, the only thing they know is how to talk. You could feel like you're the only one and nobody is there for you, but you're not alone Satoru."

Oh how great he felt after you said those words, he noticed you were actually very good at empathizing. Probably the only thing he knows about you besides your name and age.

"I can't believe after all these years, the only thing we know about them is that their name and age." Satoru said, looking at the ceiling. Suguru sighed and texted you for the 28th time, you didn't respond, you never did.

"I think we need to confront them about it, maybe there is something going on that they can't bring themselfs to tell us." Suguru said, looking up from his phone to see his friends. Shoko sighed and shook her head.

"Maybe If you two are the ones confront them, I think they're closer to the both of you than us." Shoko said, lighting up a cigarette. Suguru and Satoru shared a look before nodding, they were going to talk about this when they had the chance.

.

.

.

"Where were you yesterday? We called you like, 40 times?" Satoru frowned, slightly glaring at you as he poked your cheek. Suguru nodded, wanting to hear your excuse too.

"My phone was on silent, I didn't really notice it." you said, clearly avoiding the real question. They both frowned, the three of you were sitting at a table, eating some snacks that you paid for. You came back after disappearing for 10 hours and they took the chance to talk about your problems, but there was an issue, you refused to tell them anything about yourself.

"And? Where were you when you were not at school? We even searched for you." Suguru said, watching as you sighed and took a sip of your cold water. You were clearly thinking of a way out of here.

"Does it really matter? Why are you asking me questions anyway, I thought this was a date and not an interrogation." you said, trying to cover yourself with a flirty sentence. To your surprise, it didn't work this time.

"Tell us the truth or I'm really going to use my cursed technique on your liar ass." Satoru said and rolled his eyes, you never saw him this serious. Ugh, these questions are really overwhelming you.

"..."

"Why the fuck do you want to know about me? It's really starting to get annoying."

They both stared at you with a 'don't give us that shit right now' stare, you groaned and looked at the ceiling. Thinking if you really should tell them, you really don't like to talk about yourself, and about your own problems? Ah, hell no. You don't want to open up to anyone until the day you die.

"After I use my cursed technique, well, it hurts me both physically and mentally I guess. I don't want to show that side of me to you guys so I just...hide. Where I go is none of your business." Their eyes widened, so that's why you always disappear after missions? Suguru was in deep thought, so that's why you didn't want to fight curses if not necessary. And why you always had a painkiller in your pocket. This was bad, why didn't they notice you were hurting? Were they that blind?

"Then why are you a jujutsu sorcerer you dumb fuck? You—You're an important friend to everyone in that damned place! What if you die beacuse of it, huh?!" Satoru shouted, he really wanted to punch you in the face so you would realize that—

"Do I look like I wanna continue living?" you asked, looking away from them. Fuck, you were not supposed to say that. Now they'll blame themselves beacuse they didn't notice it earlier or some shit like that.((they were actually blaming themselves))

"..."

There was a silence at the table for the next 2 minutes, both Suguru and Satoru looking at you with shock. Suguru wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say. How could they help you in any way? You clearly didn't want to talk about it any more than it is. Satoru was having a hard time understanding what you meant, you always pushed people to not give up and talk about their problems beacuse 'It would hurt more if you bottled it up.'((your words, not his.)) So how come you made them fight for their life when you already gave up your own? Why did you lie?

"Idiot. You're a total idiot." Satoru said quietly then raised his hand and smacked your head, you were actually surprised, just as you raised your head to tell him to fuck off Suguru smacked your head too.

"What the-"

"And you still have the audacity to face us? Shit head." Satoru rolled his eyes and hugged you, his hold on you very tight. Suguru held your hand and squeezed it to give you comfort.

"You were there anytime we needed you, so let us do the same alright?" Suguru said as Satoru let go of you, you noticed his eyes were a bit teary. Suguru was smiling but you could tell he was sad you didn't told them anything. What was this? Were you actually feeling loved? Nah, that was not your thing. Then what was this warm feeling in your chest? Damn it, why did you felt like crying?

To both Suguru and Satoru's surprise, you laughed. You had a nice laugh, they thought.

"You both are—really making me feel fuzzy and soft." You smiled and hugged them both, Suguru chuckled and hugged you back as Satoru felt nice you ruffled his hair while you hugged him.

Everything was good for now.

.

.

.

((I'M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO POST😭😭😭))

[saturnicos]

Hi! Can you make a Hazbin Hotel Headcanons of how the characters would comfort a reader who is having a panic attack.

Yeah! Ironically, I had a pre-episode panic attack during a class today, writing this helped me avoid a meltdown.

Of course, if you wanted into a different perspective (or other characters, since I don't write many at once), feel free to tell me :)

HH cast comforting !reader having a panic attack

With: Charlie, Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Angel Dust

Context: Panic attack can happen any time, without any motivation. Unfortunately, that's hits you more often than you would like. In a middle of a conversation with them, you start to feel anxious and afraid, eyes widening and an immense desire to cry appearing. How would them comfort you?

. Charlie

— Oh! And I created a new plan that I would lik.. — Charlie interrupts herself as soon as she sees his eyes roaming the room, your leg shaking while the sound of your heartbeat was heard loud enough.

She knows that happens with some frequency and often is ready when happen. Actually, she's a bit imperative and has its moments of generalized anxiety; although it's not the same thing, it has a basis of what she can or cannot do to help you.

— Honey, look at me, please — She ask to you, holding your hand and looking at your eyes with a serious expression in her face. — It's ok, you'll be fine, you're safe with me. Now, breathe in and out with me.

She starts as an example, taking a deep breath through her nose and releasing the air through her mouth. Despite your mind clouded with fear and derealization, your eyes locked onto hers, unconsciously repeating what exercise she replicates, feeling your breathing regularize slowly, despite the tremor and fear continuing.

She smile at you, holding your hand with a little more strength and delicacy. She moves forward with her free arm at her side, asking for permission for a hug. You, without hesitation, allow it, approaching her and hugging her tightly, feeling her face resting above your head, allowing you to cry into her coat if you felt like you needed to.

— Don't forget to breath, it'll calm yourself. I'm here for you.

. Lucifer

He knows what gonna happen even before you. This man faces various emotional and psychological problems daily, he recognizes very well when someone seems to have a tendency to have a crisis. Especially coming from you.

The first thing he notices is your hand starting to shake and your eyes threatening to water. He's quick to cup your face with both hands, making sure you're looking and listening to him.

— Sweetie, hear me. — He asks in a gently voice, making sure not to get too close to you for fear that this would only trigger a sudden worsening of the attack. — Calm down, I'm with you, there's anything here that can hurt you.

Even with his supportive phrases, your tremor only got worse as your blood pressure only tended to drop, slowly obscuring your vision and slowing down your breathing.

— Here — His voice echoed in your mind, as if partially clearing the intrusive and distressing thoughts. An angelic voice. — Can you tell me five things in this room, please?

You didn't know from where this come, but tried to see something even with a bad vision. And you did it. Then he asked for four things that you could touch. After three that you could hear, after...

When you came to, out of the derealization, you noticed the tactic that he used to calm you down: 5-4-3-2-1, a way to distract the mind of fear to understand what was around you, consequently making you come to your senses when you noticed the space.

He also noticed as your breathing returned to normal and your body gradually shook less and less, smiling at you tenderly.

. Adam

He's a bitch. A fucking bitch.

At first, when he sees your eyes watering in the middle of the conversation he will think that some comment or joke of his got to you, and sincerely? He'd probably find it funny that you're bothered by this at this point.

— What's up, bitch? That wasn't even that aggressive — He responded in a mocking voice, leaning across the table toward you. His tone of voice was filled with a visible desire to laugh.

However, when he noticed that you ignored his comment and were shaking unnaturally, the expression on his mask changed to one that alternated between doubt and amazement.

The mask's mouth constantly opened and closed, as if he were interrupting whenever he thought about commenting on something.

— Fuck — He sighed heavily as he let out an audible curse, getting up from his seat and heading towards him, but stopped next to you when he noticed that he was a piece of shit with emotional comfort, especially with words of affirmation.

With an expression of uncertain, he took off his terminator mask and threw it on the table, looking at the office door, confirming that there was no one there that could burst into the room.

He then crouched down next to you, watching you cover your face with hands shaking, stifling a sob. Not really sure what do, he brought his hand to your back, patting it friendly as a strange way of showing support, since 1. he didn't know how to verbalize it and 2. he couldn't do it. But deep down he would like to try and provide some kind of support.

— I have no fucking idea how to help you, but... You know, if you need a shoulder, you've got me.

. Angel Dust

He knows what it's like to have an emotional breakdown and derealization, after all, it is something that constantly impacts him almost always after the work.

Despite the solution he always seeks for himself be the use of medication and perhaps a little alcohol, he would never make that an option for you since he doesn't want to inflict drug use on you. Health reason.

— Baby, is a hug okay? — he asks you in a compassionate tone, bowing his head slightly to the side as he raised his left hand to rest it on your shoulder.

When you nod, he wraps you in a hug with all four of his arms. A comfortable but not strong hug, allowing you to leave if you wish.

— You need to stabilize your heart rate, you know? Do what I do — He then took a deep breath for a few seconds and then let it out, repeating the process two more times before encouraging you to try.

You snuggled into your spot on the couch trying to control the shaking and tears as you repeated breathing exercise with difficulty. At first it was painful and burned your lungs, but Angel advised you to try again as soon as you felt like you could try.

— I don't have work today, how about a movie? I promise it won't be any of my big movies, your choice. — He laughed quietly, trying to lighten the sad mood with a light dirty joke as he picked up the controller. When he could hear a low chuckle from you, his smile grew.

. Alastor

He literally has no idea what happened to you. Alastor died before psychology studies were taken seriously, and particularly he was never someone very social or interpersonal, then see you having a mental imbalance suddenly was ridiculously weird.

He just stood there looking at you with that stupid smile on his face, trying to find some logic behind your attitude so that he could do something about it.

After a given moment thinking, in a snap of his fingers he manifested a tea set in the center table in the room. However, the withering smell of coffee took its place when he took one of the cups for himself and offered another one for you - one that smelled like valerian, a plant that helped with irregular heartbeat.

He looked at you as he sipped his own cup of black coffee with legs crossed, as if waiting for you to go ahead and drink the tea.

You then gave in and drank, pouring a few drops into your lap due to tremor. The tea actually wasn't that bad. As soon as he passed by your throat, the effect seemed to have already begun, gradually relaxing your muscles and calming your fear.

Along with the feeling of relaxation, an aroma of oils penetrated the room, making a combination in the air of more diverse aromas and smells in a pleasant mix.

By your side, Alastor beamed a satisfied smile as he helped himself to more coffee, talking to you again, occasionally asking if you wanted more tea or if you felt okay.

I love sm write comfort, but thinking about the angst before is painfully sad//

Thank you for read, have a good day or a good night :)

[innocuousghost]

Since the article about Neil Gaiman I've seen a lot of people reassessing their relationship with Terry Pratchett. Which to a certain extent does make sense: they were co-authors and as a part of his cult of personality Neil Gaiman frequently presented himself as The Guy Who Knew Terry Pratchett. So in the public consciousness their legacies seem very intertwined.

So I can understand the pivot to asking about Terry Pratchett.

But a lot of what I've seen strikes me as being paranoid and conspiratorial in a way that I do not think is healthy or particularly useful. ("Did he know? Did he not know? Was Neil Gaiman overstating their friendship? Why did Terry Pratchett really have his hard drive destroyed?")

Now, I never met Terry Pratchett. But for my money? It seems pretty likely that he didn't know what was going on. The article itself states that most of Neil Gaiman's living friends didn't know what was going on: "But in my conversations with Gaiman’s old friends, collaborators, and peers, nearly all of them told me that they never imagined that Gaiman’s affairs could have been anything but enthusiastically consensual." And throughout most of the timeline of assaults the article covers Terry Pratchett was largely either in the late stages of dimentia on another continent or dead.

Though obviously we can't say for sure he didn't know something. (Even if he genuinely didn't know it's not like he would have turned to Rihanna Pratchett and said "Just in case anybody ever asks I want it on the record that to my knowledge Neil Gaiman is not and never has been a serial rapist.")

But ultimately. That's not actually the core issue that's keeping people awake at night I don't think. I think it's "How do I continue being fans of creatives knowing that some of them are secretly capable of legitimate evil without me ever being made aware of it?"

There is a pretty loud and unpleasant contingent on the internet whose solution to that problem seems to be "You can't. The only way to eschew blind celebrity worship is to live your life every second assuming in the back of your mind that every creative living or dead could be revealed to be a serial rapist at any moment. Just in case it turns out they actually are." Which. Doesn't strike me as particularly helpful. Or even feasible. And that is certainly not a lens I would recommend universally applying to strangers. Not even famous ones.

Instead I think it's probably helpful to look at famous strangers the way you would look at strangers in your own life - like the barista at your coffee shop: that they are probably flawed but also presumably decent. And much like with a barista, in your limited interactions (largely exchanges of product for money, with perhaps a smattering of surface level small talk. Much like with celebrities) you probably won't have much opportunity to discover if they're secretly a bad person. So if it turns out they are, it really isn't your fault that you didn't notice.

And based on what I saw in his books and interviews and his memoir by Rob Wilkins - though he was presumably decent I also certainly think Terry Pratchett was flawed. He was occasionally rude (based on anecdotes from people who knew him), some of the jokes in his books about the counterweight content strike me as being in poor taste and despite his flashes of acab I'd say the perspective of the city watch books was actually largely police reformist rather than abolitionist.

Yet I continue like his work (and what small slice I know about him as a person) anyways.

And understanding creatives as being flawed doesn't even mean "there's something unequivocally problematic out there! Hiding! In their work! In their interviews! And if you employ enough of a bad faith reading then you'll be able to find it!" No. (I mean, there might be some genuinely ethically dubious stuff in there but there also might not.) In my experience even just seeing the little flaws, like flaws in their craft are enough to knock creatives off of the perfect pedestal in your mind. Like, stuff you don't even have to be super knowledgeable about the craft in question to notice. "Eh that scene really dragged. That joke didn't really land. Anyways" And I certainly think Terry Pratchett had his craft issues. Just look at the first two Discworlds and some of the middle rincewind books for proof of that. And it can even be smaller than that. Tiny personality flaws that annoy you: Terry Pratchett was very snobby about Doctor Who in a way that strikes me as overly pedantic enough to be worthy of an eyeroll.

We should see the creatives who you admire, who make work you love as earthly and human. Not as untouchable gods who can do no wrong. (Clearly that isn't working out for us for a variety of reasons)

And setting aside the total monsters, I think it's a good thing that the stuff you like was made by people who are flawed. Humans are flawed, the people in your fandom are flawed, your friends are flawed, and you're flawed. But look at all the cool stuff you all make anyways.

[siggiedraws]

As someone who considers Silver to be her favorite Sonic character, I had spent a good while wondering why I keep feeling frustrated with him in the IDW comics as compared to Archie and I think you might had put into words why. His lack of a backbone is kind of weakening him in hindsight. I still like him all around and there are parts of IDW that do justice to his character and even expand on it (I will never not be happy for his journey as a gardener cause that is both in line with his love of nature and very refreshing to see for a male character to have unabashedly, especially someone Silver's age). Though I will disagree with you saying that Archie had NO backbone. He was constantly in conflict with Sonic over finding out who the traitor to the Freedom Fighters that lead to his bleak future is and he consistently makes mistakes that make him come off as cocky and bratty, to the point that Sonic eventually grows to hate Silver and even disregard his warnings when he does discover the actual truth until it's too late (that truth of course being that Sally betrayed everyone unintentionally with her Robotinazation, something no one wants to be true until they have to face it after the fact). Archie Silver is still flawed, but he is closer to his game counterpart more than IDW Silver is, at least in my opinion he is.

Thank you for your sharing your opinion and being very polite about it! To clarify something, I did not mean to say Archie Silver had no backbone. I was using him as a point of comparison because I noticed similarities with IDW, in that he is portrayed as more polite/timid than his game counterpart. I understand your interpretation of my previous post because I didn't get into it for the sake of not getting off topic. In the future, I will avoid making points without providing evidence in order to avoid confusing people or derailing my argument.

What I want to argue here is that I think your point arguing that Archie Silver has a backbone is still compatible with my position of both comic Silvers possessing noticeable character differences from game Silver that share the same problem with Silver being portrayed as polite or timid, just to different degrees.

I absolutely do not want to be unreasonable here! I agree with you that he is more similar to his game counterpart than IDW is and I won't deny the examples you just listed. I hope the examples I bring up can help illuminate my perspective a little bit and why Archie Silver is a bit too similar to IDW Silver for my liking.

Sonic the Hedgehog #195 - Silver tries to politely interject in on the fight, to the point of saying "excuse me" and "ma'am."

I am aware that he stops them all directly after this moment, however, it should not have happened in the first place if Archie Silver was aiming to be like Game Silver.

Sonic the Hedgehog #235 - Silver stammering in front of Sonic and allowing himself to get dragged through the dirt by his quills.

I think it's not in-line with the games for Silver to allow himself to be disrespected like this. If the Rivals games teach us anything, he gives back equal if not more aggressive energy when he perceives that someone is disrespecting him. Silver calling Sonic a jerk is really small potatoes.

If Silver reacts this way to being called crazy, how do you think he would react to being dragged through the mud by his quills? Not well, I can tell you that.

Silver's stammering here is also of note because it communicates that he's intimidated by Sonic when he has no reason to be if this were an accurate portrayal to the games.

Sonic Universe #43 - Silver tries to lie.

In the games, Silver is so honest and sincere when he speaks that it could be attributed to a source of his rudeness. Lying and deception is simply not something he ever considers doing. We've been shown in Rivals 2 quite clearly that Silver is honest to a fault. This panel also shows Silver being polite and timid in his mannerisms.

Silver attempting to lie happens to be a trait that is shared with IDW Silver in the 2022 annual.

Sonic Universe #25 - Another example of Silver not defending himself from being disrespected and using the term "sir."

Silver's childlikeness is emphasized here, as he is put in direct contrast with an elderly character who comes across as an authority figure, one he seemingly accepts and calls "sir" to be polite. This is an example of what I meant in my post when I say that Silver's naivety keeps getting conflated with being childish. He even says "b-but he started it" like a child telling on a sibling to their parents.

I acknowledge there is a tiny moment where Silver speaks passive-aggressively in the second to last panel, but Silver listening to the order of "don't sass your elders" directly afterwards quickly negates this moment.

Another moment from the same issue shows Silver becoming timid and lacking in confidence when faced with six enemies.

This directly contradicts the games where Silver is very confident in his abilities when faced with a horde of enemies. In Colours DS, he shows an eager willingness to fight and gets disappointed when Orbot and Cubot flee instead, which is opposite to how Silver attempts to avoid fighting in Archie.

Now, in the Archie example, Silver gets defeated by the enemies, which indicates that his timidness is because he is outmatched. I would argue that this is still not true to Game Silver. In '06, Silver readily and confidently fights Iblis, despite Iblis coming back time and time again and never truly being defeated.

Another example is when he fights Shadow. Despite losing to Shadow, and being told that it's no use fighting Shadow due to his Chaos Control ability, Silver does not start behaving timidly. He is still as determined as ever.

-

Thank you very much for your ask! I hope the examples provided illustrate why I brought up Archie Silver as an example in my previous post about this topic. I agree with you about gardening being a good recent addition to Silver's character, it's very wholesome to see him indulge in his love for the world around him.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch.20

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

Believe it or not a large section of this chapter was actually one of the first things I wrote for this story, it was written out before the first chapter actually and I’ve been really excited to show it. This chapter is super long and has shifting perspectives.

This chapter also mirrors Ch.10. This is a long chapter.

First - Prev - Next

WARNING: T/W implications of past sexual assault. Implied past torture. Character death.

CH.20

“So you’re gonna show me that super off-limits study room?”

“Yes. I only ask that you keep an open mind, and please do not judge me.”

“Alright PhD, I’ll only judge you the normal amount.”

“Come inside.”

“-Woah- ahhh. You really like …Triangles, huh?”

“Stanley, you’re shaking.”

“It uh, it kinda makes me uncomfortable, not gonna to lie. Are you in a cult?”

“No. Come here, follow me to the mat in the center.”

“Okay…”

“Now, what do you think of this? Does it remind you of anything?”

“A newspaper clipping? Uh… That’s a pretty messed up car- oh, wait, yeah it does remind me of something.”

“What does it remind you of?”

“I used to have a car just like that. A red El Diablo.”

“And what happened to it?”

“...I don’t remember, actually. I’m trying to remember but it just makes my brain feel like it's on fire.”

“How did I not see this before…?”

“See what?”

“Stanley, when you were first traveling with Sanchez, were you sick at all?”

“Oh yeah, totally sick. I had this massive chest infection. Kept knocking the air mask off when I was delirious. If Rick didn’t constantly shoot me up with weird sci-fi drugs, it probably woulda killed me.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Where’re these questions coming from Doc?”

“I’ll explain soon, but I need to show you something else. Sit down on the floor.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m going to sit back-to-back with you. I need you to fall asleep.”

“You want me to… sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Doc, you know I got problems sleeping.”

“I doubt it will be a problem this time. I’m going to meditate, but I need you to sleep.”

“You’re not setting me up for some ritual sacrifice, right?”

“Do you trust me?”

“...”

“You don’t have to answer that. Either meditate or sleep, whichever comes first. But I’m going to meditate.”

“...Alright. But if you cut my heart out and sacrifice it to the math gods or whatever, I’m haunting you.”

(...)

“Stanley.”

“Huh? Where are we?”

“The dreamscape. Specifically, we are in your dreamscape. You could also call it the mindscape. It’s a metaphysical representation of your mind.”

“You can beam yourself into people's minds?”

“Within limitations, yes. If I were to do so when the person is awake, I could only access their surface thoughts and memories. If the person were asleep, I could go a bit deeper and see their dreams, but I wouldn’t be able to easily traverse, and some deeper, more unconscious memories can’t be accessed.”

“So… Ya brought me here? What for?”

“We can access your mind deeper. But I need your permission to do so.”

“You can un-bury all of my lost memories?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to force it. I want to help you… but I know this is painful; both not knowing, and knowing. Do you want to know your real past? Even if it meant you’d have to remember why you forgot it all in the first place?”

“...Yeah. I think- hey what’s that thing coming out of your chest? Is that a rope?”

“...Yes, how did you-”

“I think I have that same thing, hold on, lemme just-”

“You’ve never been here, how would you-.”

“See, same thing. Is it supposed to do something?”

*Ford in shock suddenly grabs at the severed ends of both ropes and tries desperately to push them back together, but the ends keep repelling each other like magnets with the same charge*

“Hey doc, I don’t think you’re gonna attach ‘em like that.”

“Why isn’t it working? It’s supposed to work. It needs to-.”

“Woah! Calm down, PhD. Aren’t we here to dig up the past?”

“Right, right. We’ll get back to that. Do I want to know why your mindscape resembles a gambling lounge?”

“I spent a lot of time in a place called Lottocron Nine before I was banned from it.”

(...)

“Have you been in my mind before?”

“...Yes, during one of your sessions with Fiddleford.”

“...What kind of session?”

“An interview.”

“Oh, thank god. So ya just… broke into my mind?”

“Stanley, I understand if you are feeling-.”

“That’s really cool.”

“...What? You’re not upset?”

“Pft, I’ve broken into houses, cars, shops, warehouses; and even the Infinetentiary, twice . A persons mind though? That’s hardcore.”

“You’re being awfully candid about your multidimensional adventures with Sanchez.”

“There’s no point in hiding it now. You learned the first time you went into my mind, didn’t ya? That's how you knew who I was talking about when I mentioned Rick.”

“You’re handling this rather well.”

“Doc, we’ve both seen some crazy shit. This dreamwalking stuff isn’t even in the top ten.”

(...)

“FORRESTER!”

“Catch you on the flipside, sucker!”

“God, I hated that guy.”

“That IRS agent… What’s his name?”

“Agent Powers, why?”

“Just putting a name to a face.”

(...)

“I don’t like remembering this.”

“Tell us where your boss is hiding, and maybe we’ll spare that ugly mug of yours.”

“You think anything you do is gonna be worse than what Jimmy will do to me if I rat her out? I’ll take my chances with your sleazy ass.”

“This ‘Jimmy’ is female?”

“Yeah. Jimmy Snakes is just a street name. Other bikers wouldn’t take her seriously if they knew from the bat she was a chick. Her real last name is Jiménez.”

“But the J is pronounced as a-”

“Yeah, but guess how everyone who doesn’t speak Spanish tries to pronounce it when they read it?”

“Tough talk, Alcatraz. But everyone's got a limit.”

*the gangster takes the lit cigarette out of his mouth and brings it closer to Stan*

“Yeah, we don’t needa see this.”

*the memory suddenly blacks out but a sizzling noise is still heard*

(...)

“Stanley, this is a pit memory. These are memories your unconscious mind has been hiding from you.”

“Do we just, ya know, jump in?”

“Yes. In a way, it is like the bottomless pit, we would fall back right where we started, or your mental defenses could forcefully-.”

“Screw that, I’m imagining stairs.”

“You can’t just imagine -”

“Violá. Stairs.”

“...”

“What? This is my mind, anything I can imagine should be possible, right?”

“It should not be this easy for you. It takes months of rigorous meditation to-.”

“Maybe it woulda been easier for you to control what's in your head if it wasn’t so far up your ass all the time.”

(...)

“I don’t remember this.”

“It’s the science fair incident I told you about.”

“This is all your fault, ya dumb machine!”

“And now you’re about to-...”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, what did I do?”

“Man, did I fuck up or what?”

“There. Alright. Good as new. Probably.”

“...Stanley. You- you didn’t ruin my machine on purpose?”

“I don’t see you anywhere, but it looks like it.”

“You only hit the table …”

“Does it matter? The results are the same.”

"Stanley, I haven't been honest with you about this incident. After this, yes we fell out, but our father overheard and-."

"And he kicked me out? Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah... I think I always did. Just didn't wanna."

"But... I lied to you about it. I told you that you chose to leave."

"Dude. All I fuckin do is lie. I'm not feeling like being a hypocrite today."

"You're not mad at me? I turned my back on you!"

"Get in line, PhD. Rico outed me to the Aryan Brotherhood. Rick cheated on me with an Alien Hivemind. Jimmy chased me for fifty miles on the interstate on a flaming motorcycle trying to drag out my soul with bottles and chains. You got tired of my shit and told me to buzz off? Big deal!"

"I ruined your life..."

"I ruined my own life. It's kinda my thing, ya know."

(...)

“No- no. Oh, no. We can’t stay here, we need to leave.”

“This looks like the homeless shelter from Glass Shard Beach.”

“Hey- sir? Can ya help me with something?"

"Watcha need, kid?"

"I haven't been to one of these places before and its kinda-"

'Scary - no, I can't say that out loud. He'll think I'm being a baby.'

"It's kinda new to me. I heard there were phones here that don't charge ya?"

'I wanna call ma...'

"There sure is, just follow me."

"We need to leave."

"Stanley, what-?"

"We need to leave we can't stay here we need to-"

"This isn't- wait, what're ya d-? Hey!”

“Brats like you are too damn easy.”

“Back off you piece a-!”

WACK

“Why isn’t this memory blacking out, I’m trying to end it-.”

“Get offa me! Stop!”

“I don’t wanna remember this.”

“Stanley, I’m so sorry. I had no idea-.”

“Cry all you want, it won't help you.”

*the memory blacks out*

(...)

“...Do you want to talk about it?”

“ No. ”

“Okay. I won’t make you.”

“I think this pit over here is the one that… ya know, made me forget everything.”

“You are sure it’s this one?”

“There’s a giant neon sign over there that says ‘Do Not Enter: Everything is Worse’.”

“How considerate of your subconscious.”

“…I don’t think I can go any further. Go on without me.”

“Stanley-.”

“Stanford. I’m giving you permission to see that memory, whatever it is. I’m not going to kick you out of it. Just tell me what you saw after you get out, and we’ll go from there.”

“You are okay with that? Are you sure?”

“You asked me outside if I trusted ya. Here’s your answer.”

(...)

‘Moses, the fog’s getting pretty bad… can’t see shit’

‘Ain’t safe with all the curves ahead’

‘I should take a stop soon and wait for it to clear’

‘Huh? What’s up with my breaks?’

‘WHY ISN’T IT WORKING? WHY?’

‘He didn’t! That son of a-’ 

SCREECH

CRASH

Fwooosh!

‘Fuck! I gotta stay calm- I’ve gotten out of worse’

‘Ugh the smokes getting really thick-.’

‘Why isn’t the seat belt unbuckling? I don’t have a lotta time here.’

‘Where’s my strap cutter? Why isn’t it-!’

‘I’m really lightheaded…’

‘Can’t-’.

‘It’s too hot-.’

‘I’m trapped.’

‘I-I can’t breathe.’

*Stanley reaches up and pulls the picture of himself and Ford, which is on fire, off of the sun visor. It burns up into ash within his hands, which then start shaking*

"That was all I had... Now I have nothing. And I have nobody... I'm… alone."

‘I'm alone…’

‘I'm alone.’

*the memory suddenly blacks up, and then the scene changes and he’s looking at Rick Sanchez as he lies on the floor of his space cruiser. Ricks words are muffled at first*

'Where am I?'

'Who's this guy?'

'He tased me? Is this a cop?'

'Why was I in the woods?'

'Catatonic...?'

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

'I'm alone' 

“It’s…? I... 'm alone . Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“I do not understand… I suspected the car accident was the catalyst, but how did he escape? Did Sanchez rescue him and lie about it? What would he gain from that?”

“Nope!”

“Bill?”

“You know you can’t go anywhere without me, Fordsy.”

“Why did you wait until now to show yourself?”

“Dramatic entrance, of course!”

“...Right. Why doesn’t Stanley remember escaping his burning car?

“Because he didn’t. He died of smoke inhalation right there.”

“... What ?”

“Yeah. He died. Ironically, of suffocation. Isn’t that hilarious, Sixer? He used to suffocate you, and that ended up being the thing that killed him.”

“CIPHER! Whatever cruel joke you are trying to-.”

“Joke? I’m hurt Fordsy, I know when to be serious.”

“He didn’t die! We are in his mindscape! He’s asleep right behind me in the waking world!”

“Oh, Sixer… Your mommy was right when she said denial like this isn’t healthy.”

“STOP PLAYING THESE GAMES WITH ME BILL CIPHER.”

“Alright, alright. Here, let me give you a sneak peak of what happened between the scenes; he doesn’t remember, because it happened in his mindscape. So here’s my memory of what happened.”

“Your-?”

SNAP

(...)

“Hey there slick! Things getting too hot to handle?”

“What are you supposed to be?”

“Call me a guardian angel.” 

“Are all angels as geometric as you?”

“I took a form that would be comforting to you. I’m the symbol on the back of the money, you like money right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well there we go! I’m here to help you.”

“... Why?”

“I’m a friend of a friend. And that friend would very much hate it if you burnt to death here. Shake my hand and I can get you out.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Like I said, friend of a friend. Just shake my hand. I’ll have temporary use of your body, and you’ll get to live.”

“I’d sooner chew up and spit out a gold chain before I fall for some Faustian bargain. No ones ever been nice to me in my entire life; there’s no reason my death would be any different. Leave me alone.”

“What about your family?”

“They won’t be surprised, there’s no way they didn’t see something like this coming. I’m surprised I lasted this long.”

“What about your brother? Your twin? You’re two halves of a whole - are you really going to leave him to live the rest of his life incomplete?”

“I’m the incomplete one, I failed by myself. But he can stand on his own.”

“Don’t you realize this will devastate him?”

“... I know it will.”

“Then why aren’t you taking this deal? Fordsy isn’t going to get over this. I know everything about him, and I’m telling you he never will. This will haunt him the rest of his natural life. The same way it would haunt you if he died.”

“If you’re such a Stanford expert, would he ever think I’d take a deathbed deal with a floating triangle in a top hat and fake eyelashes?”

“The eyelashes were a low blow. But, I’ll give it to you, slick; he does know you would never fall for flattery and trickery. But he’d also agonize why you’d give up like this.”

“There’s giving up, and there’s acceptance. Every decision I’ve ever made has led up to this. And most of them were the wrong ones. The consequences have caught up to me, and there’s nowhere to run anymore.”

“You’re choosing now of all times to accept the consequences of your actions?”

“Might as well, it’s the last chance I can.”

“You are going to die here. Stanley Romanoff Pines, if you don’t take a deal with me in the next minute you will die.”

“Guess I get one whole minute to reflect on everything huh?”

“And what would you reflect on?”

“If you’re really friends with my brother… if he ever asks about me for some reason, could you tell him that I love him?”

*a rope suddenly appears, with one end fading into Stanley’s chest. The other end appears to fade off into the distance*

“What’s this supposed to be?”

“Your twin bond with Sixer.”

“That’s a real thing, no shit?”

“Yes. It’s how I found you, actually. IQ was getting this sinking feeling of dread and didn’t know why, so I just followed it without telling him.”

“Does that mean he’ll feel it when-.”

“Yes.”

*Stanley looks at the rope before grabbing it with both hands, and pulling it in opposite directions until it’s broken into two. The end not connected to him disappears.*

“He doesn’t need to know what dying feels like.”

“...He doesn’t want you dead. He never hated you.”

“I know. But he doesn’t need to worry about supporting all of this dead weight. Ha! Get it? Dead weight! …Dead weight? It’s funny because I’m about to be dea-”

(...)

“-and he died exactly how he lived; making stupid jokes that no one but him finds funny- except for you, I can see even though you’re crying, you’re also trying really hard not to laugh .”

*Ford covers his face with his hands in grief*

“...That was a good one…”

“I waited for his heart to stop before I could take over - I can possess corpses you see, and for those fleeting minutes, he counted as one. I flexed just enough of my power to drag him out of his car - had to wait for that stuck seat belt to burn enough to rip - but all of that activity re-started his heart and brought him back, kicking me out of his body.

I had enough time to change some things - kept enough oxygen in his blood supply to prevent brain damage, deleted his fear of heights so he could climb out of the ravine, and rewired his optic nerves so he didn’t need glasses anymore - he wasn’t going to get any for himself anytime soon, he won’t need them until he gets cataracts at fifty-seven.

Anyways, that’s the real reason he was immune to that green cryptid; his worst nightmare was dying alone, and he already went through that.”

“...Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“You didn’t ask. Not me. Not anyone. Not even yourself.”

“...”

“You always pushed your thoughts of him into the corner of your mind, Sixer. In your journals, any mention of him you’d cross out or write in a code. I saved him because I know you care about him. I didn’t tell you what happened because you wanted him out of sight, and out of mind.”

“Bill!”

“It’s true, isn’t it? And look at that, he still made his way back to you. Either that twin bond was magnetically pulling him towards its broken half, or I left just enough of an impression on his mind that the weirdness of Gravity Falls drew him here.”

“You left an impression on my brothers mind?”

“It’s like when you crinkle paper, Sixer. You can try to smooth it out all you want, but there’s still going to be traces that something happened. There’s not pieces of me left in his mind, if that’s what you’re worried about. He didn’t make a deal with me, unlike you. He just picked up some of my tendencies. Definitely explains why he uses nicknames so much, doesn’t it?”

“This is my nightmare.”

“This is the dreamscape.”

“...Why did you repress his memories?”

“You think I did that? Sixer, he died . You don’t come back from that the same way you were before.”

“Then why would he still remember most of the last ten years of his life, but not being kicked out or his entire life before that?”

“Fordsy, you heard his last conscious thoughts, and those became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Before he passed out and then away, all he could focus on was how alone he felt. His brain did that thing all human brains tend to do; hid all the stuff that would hurt him more.”

“...No, he wouldn’t-.”

“Sixer. I know you can see the truth, you can’t hide your thoughts from me; why bother remembering himself, why bother remembering loving people when they didn’t bother to remember him, not even when he needed them the most?”

“...”

“Oh, goody, now you’re crying! Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do in situations like this. I don’t care if you don’t understand the reference, you’re not the one who’s supposed to.”

*Bill conjures up and then starts playing the Nightmare Realms smallest violin*

To be continued…

[adaobiiii]

──────────── black!reader x luka ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Prompt : Head cannons of Luka and his interesting (black) girlfriend

Pairing : Luka Couffaine x Reader, Luka x Reader

Warnings : None, Fluff, no-magic!au

A/N : Reader is mainly referred to as "you". Can be read from wtv perspective, but it's kinda implied that i wrote this with a female in mind. I wanna write a pt2 alr of like how ur friends see ur relationship yk

Home ||  Main Masterlist || MLB Masterlist

Relationship Information

So I'd like to believe the way you two met went something like this.

You are in the library studying for your 4 final exams you unfortunately have.

As you explain the concepts to yourself you looked STRESSED.

Knee is bouncing, your twists are basically hanging by a thread because of how much your pulling at your hair, your hands and lips feel dry, your clothes feel too tight, your shoes aren't on the right way, the room feels to cold, you haven't eaten in an hour 3 hours.

And all of a sudden this random guy is getting himself seated beside you and pulling out his notes.

For a second all your stress anxious feelings stop cause your confused....

Like didn't he see all the other empty seats? Why is this emo looking, skinny jeans wearing, rockstar wanna be sitting beside me.

Then he smiles at you and your brain kinda just clicks and something makes sense. He sees your studying and eventually y'all get talking.

Course many of your attempted dates went nothing as planned (you struggle with time (a black people problem i have) and always feel bad for making him wait-) But when you do get together it's like the universe decided to give you guys a break cause now all your dates and hangout sessions end up wonderfully.

Aesthetics

Your wardrobe is full of baggy clothes. Oversized hoodies, cargo pants, graphic tees and all your accessories are in gold.

Obviously there's the random, "hottie" or "thirst trap that i'll never post" outfit in there but your go-to is comfy.

Doesn’t stop you from stealing Luka’s stuff.

He doesn’t mind when you “borrow” his chains or rings to complete your look, but he always notices.

“That’s mine,” he says with a smirk, and you just shrug at him. 

 His band tees somehow find their way into your wardrobe, and you style them to perfection with chunky sneakers and layered jewellery.

He loves when you wear his clothes and won’t ask for them back (u dont know this). 

You also got him to not wear skinny jeans. It took days cause that was all he had in his closet but once you got him to see how thin his legs looked he was 100% willing to change.

Your Hair

Now when it comes to your hair this boy is most definitely OBSESSED

I feel like because he has basic hair (i apologise- but it looks so basic in the show 😭) he has an obsession w urs. Whether it’s in braids, a slick back bun or ponytail, or fluffy curls, he loves it all.

He loves when you let him help pick out hair accessories, cause he wants to decorate you.

Luka is incredibly careful and patient when helping wash your hair. He takes his time, making sure he doesn’t miss anything, following your instructions like it’s some ritual.  

He’s low-key mesmerized by all of it.

How the shampoo lathers to how your curls look when wet. You catch him staring a few times, and he sheepishly grins.  

“Your hair is amazing. I love how soft it feels,” he murmurs, making you blush even though you try to play it cool.  

I feel like he’d be surprisingly good at giving a scalp massage while applying conditioner or shampoo.

“Am I doing it right?” You reassure him with a playful, “For a newbie, you’re not bad.” 

Once your hair is clean and styled, bro can’t stop staring. “You’re gorgeous,” he says simply, and for once, you don’t tease him back, letting the warmth of his words sink in.  

Couple Dynamic : Bullying 

You roast Luka daily and without mercy, but he just grins, fully understanding that teasing is your love language.

You call him something like “Walmart Rockstar,” but he’ll laugh and reply with, “As long as I’m your Walmart Rockstar.”

Like SIR??? you're supposed to be offended 👎🏿

You’d definitely have a collection of ridiculous nicknames for him "Soft Rock," "Emo Barbie", "Emo Boi Wannabe" and he’d pretend to be annoyed but he loves it.

Sometimes, Luka surprises you by reciprocating the attitude.

One day, after you teased him for wearing the same hoodie for the third time that week (he did it cause it smelt like you), he snaps back and is like, “At least my hoodie isn’t in a fight with my earrings for attention.” 

It took u a few minutes to understand but when u did u almost died laughing, completely unaware that he had memorised something he had seen online and was waiting for this moment-

If Luka ever does something even mildly silly, you’re immediately there with something to say.

“Who told you that haircut was a good idea? Was it Juleka? Blink twice if you need help.” Luka just laughs and shrugs, “You’re jealous you can’t pull it off like I can.”

Daily Life and Couple Things

However, Luka’s calm vibes doesn’t mean he’s a pushover. If you’re in a feisty (funny word) mood, he’ll match your energy with gentle sarcasm or sly comments.  

You’ll playfully tug on his sleeve and tease him like, “Looking depressed again, huh?” while he casually slings an arm around your shoulders and murmurs, “It’s my thing, babe.”

You refuse to be straightforward with your compliments 95% of the time. Instead of just saying, "You look good," you’ll tell him something like, "I guess you’re not completely hopeless at fashion."

He would poke fun at you but chooses to laugh and kisses your forehead instead. 

You love sneaking pink stickers onto Luka’s guitar case or slipping a glittery scrunchie into his pocket, just to see if he notices. You find it so much fun because the hot pink neon donut sticker on his guitar case doesn't match his vibes at all.

He usually notices but leaves them because “It reminds me of you."

This is also your way of quietly letting others know he's taken.

When Luka is feeling down, you’ll hype him up in your own way.....

“You’re literally the only dude who can make playing the guitar look this hot. Stop sulking and get back to being the heartthrob we all know you are.”

Now Luka's perspective on all this.

Luka’s all about the small, meaningful touches—a hand on your lower back, brushing your hair out of your face, or lacing his fingers with yours when no one’s looking.

He met you when you were about to have a mini-panic attack so he'd just really good at calming you down.

I feel like between both of you, he takes on the more domestic roles. He cleans and cooks and everything and all you have to do is wakeup and actually get out of bed to eat.

Like i said earlier though calm vibes ≠ pushover.

If anyone, ANYONE, tries to say anything offensive to you that could even slightly cause you to doubt in the amazing and beautiful person that you are he 100% WILL come swinging.

"How dare you insult by gorgeous queen? Do you not see the way her skin glows in the sunlight? Or how her hair is so beautiful and taken care of? I'll have you know that she is an absolute genius and is better than you in every wa-"

Sometimes you have to shut him up cause he just won't stop. It's cute though

At first you felt bad (cause bro would be lecturing so many people about your perfectness) but he always brushes it off saying that he can't let the thoughts of others worry the love of his life.

Despite the teasing, everyone knows you’re his biggest supporter. When Luka’s performing, you’re in the front row hyping him up, wearing his band’s merch (but it's cropped and styled to perfection).

Around Other People

Luka’s more reserved and you’re the loud, playful one in your friend group.

Both of you are totally introverts but you are the more extroverted-introvert.

It's funny to everyone else cause of the whole "sassy" and "chill" vibe both of you have going on.

Like they'll see you ranting at super speed about something to him and making all these hand gestures and he's just nodding along and making sure you don't bump into people or things since you get suuuuuper distracted.

If anyone ever tries to cross you or Luka, your mouth starts to work faster than your brain. You'd be like, "You got something to say? Say it louder—I couldn’t hear over your bad decision-making." ( oml that actually sucked to write i had my brother come up with it- ) and Luka just watches in amused awe, knowing you’ve got things handled.

If someone flirts with Luka, you’ll swoop in like “Sorry, he’s taken,” before giving him a quick wink and he'd just shake his head with a soft laugh.

BUT If anyone comes for you, Luka’s the calm but firm defender.

Bro got the snake miraculous for a reason. He is sweet and gentle 95% of the time but when he bites it is venomous.

You’ll definitely be instigating in the background though, “Say it louder for the people in the back!”  

Intimacy & Trust  

As bold as you are, Luka sees the softer side of you. He’s the only one who knows that under all the attitude, you’re as sweet as can be, and he treasures the quiet moments when you let your guard down.  

Every now and then, when he least expects it, you’ll casually say something like, “You’re actually pretty great, Couffaine,” before quickly changing the subject. Luka lives for those rare moments of pure honesty.

He definitely surprises you with little handwritten notes tucked into your bag or under your phone. Your favorites? The ones where he writes, “You’re my favorite song.” 

Luka writes songs inspired by your duality, your confidence and the hidden kindness, you only show him.

“You’re the storm and the calm, my chaos and my peace.”

When life gets overwhelming for either of you, Luka plays soft songs on his guitar while you sit beside him, leaning into his calm energy. He appreciates your presence in his life, even in the quietest moments.

[aperrywilliams]

It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Part 1: If Anything I Find It Educative

Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?

-----

Reader's POV

-----

As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.

I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home. 

It doesn't feel like it yet. 

But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.

Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up? 

How naive of me.

I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.

Again, it's tomorrow's problem.

Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.

The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.

He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable. 

What a shame.

When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.

I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.

But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.

The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.

Fuck it. 

Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.

Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.

Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?

Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.

Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.

It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.

Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.

It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.

Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.

Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.

I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.

It was horrible until it wasn't.

I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.

Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?

-

Monday morning comes faster than I wanted. 

I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.

Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.

On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.

This Monday will be a blast.

Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.

"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.

"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.

"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."

The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name. 

I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.

My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.

I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.

Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.

I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.

Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.

Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.

My ex didn't. And as him, many others.

I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.

Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.

Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.

"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.

"Of course. I promised I would."

Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.

"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.

"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.

It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.

I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.

"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."

Andie nods in understanding.

"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"

Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.

That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.

"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."

"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night. 

I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.

"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."

Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.

"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.

"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"

"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.

The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.

"Do you think you'll see him again?"

I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'

That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?' 

Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?

"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.

"But do you want to?"

That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.

"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."

A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.

She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.

Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.

Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.

----

A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there. 

Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.

But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.

I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.

I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.

"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."

I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.

With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.

I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.

Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.

"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.

Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.

"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.

"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.

"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.

"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."

Weird. 

Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.

"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.

"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"

A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.

Wait. I know that voice. 

I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.

I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.

"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.

"Uh?"

"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.

"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.

"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.

"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."

"To you, sir. Have a good evening."

I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.

Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.

"(Y/N), wait!"

I turn and see him trotting towards me.

"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.

Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago. 

"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"

What's wrong with me? 

Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?

"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.

"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."

Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?

"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.

I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.

"Yeah, me too."

Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...

"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."

Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.

Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.

"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.

"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Yeah?"

"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."

----

This time, it's my turn to pick the place.

It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.

As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.

"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."

There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.

"What about yours?"

Now is my turn to talk about my boss.

"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."

The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala. 

When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.

"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.

"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.

"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.

So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.

"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.

"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."

That's interesting. I want to know more about that.

"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.

Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.

I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.

"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."

"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.

"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."

What? Kick doors down?

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"

I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.

Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."

I roll my eyes. That's not the point.

"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"

Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.

Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"

He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."

I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"

Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.

"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.

Gosh, that smile.

"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."

Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.

"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."

Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.

"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."

Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.

It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.

"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.

"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.

I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.

"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."

"Fair enough."

After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.

"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."

Spencer's brow furrows.

"Ray is your ex?"

Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.

Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.

"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.

"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.

I chuckle. "Hell, he is."

It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.

"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.

"No. Don't do that. I invited you."

Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless. 

"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."

Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.

We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.

"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.

"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.

"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes. 

Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.

"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.

"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.

"So you really like my company, uh?" 

I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.

"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.

The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.

I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.

Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.

"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."

Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.

Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.

"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.

"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.

Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.

I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.

"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling. 

I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.

"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."

Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!

"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"

Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.

"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.

"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.

I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.

A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.

"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.

"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.

"Bet I won't."

"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."

"Good night, (Y/N)."

I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.

Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.

Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.

I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.

Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)? 

Whatever it is, it feels so good.

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

Next -> Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case

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A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[srovtl]

(in here, a magic that connect hearts) Figaro SSR Card Story Translation

Translator note: This, and all the fifth anniversary card stories, reference each character’s affection story (which can be read here) and I recommend reading them beforehand.

The future illuminated by moonlight - Episode 1

Akira: (Where could Figaro be? There aren't any missions today, so I'm pretty sure he's in the magic manor...)

One day, some time after I started living at the magic manor.

It's been several months since I interviewed each wizard and wrote about them in the sage’s manual.

Now that I'm closer to everyone than I was back then, I'm going around asking them again, hoping to make the content new.

Akira: (? I hear voices coming from the common room...)

Figaro: Hey, Mitile. I'm so happy you're asking me about a problem you're having with your magic practice.

Figaro: I've been getting rejected a lot lately.

Mitile: I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...

In the room was Figaro, sitting on the sofa by the window, and Mitile, floating on a broom through the open window.

Mitile was in his practice clothes, so he must have been practicing magic outside.

Figaro: Ah, I didn't say it to trouble you. So, what do you want to ask?

Mitile: Um... is there any trick to sustaining the powerful magical power that's been revealed?

Mitile: Like when pushing back a strong tornado.

Figaro: Not an attack spell to knock it away?

Mitile: Yes. I've always been anxious to get stronger, but...

Mitile: Recently, I think I've started to understand why I want power.

Figaro: I see. You've gotten stronger, Mitile.

Figaro: Let's make that the topic of tomorrow's lesson. Self-study is fine, but don't push yourself too hard.

Mitile: …! Thank you!

Akira: (Mitile looks so lively... He must be happy that Figaro is teaching him the things he wants to know.)

Mitile turns around and leaves. At that moment, I heard footsteps from behind.

Faust: What are you doing, Master Sage?

Akira: Wha, Faust?! Um, well...

Figaro: What are you two sneaking around doing? I'm getting jealous.

Figaro pops out of the common room. Knowing him, he may have already noticed that I'm here.

Faust: I wanted to discuss something about class, but it seems the sage was one step earlier.

Faust: I'll come back later.

Akira: S-Sorry. It's not urgent, but long story short I wanted to talk to you about the interview.

Figaro: I'd be happy to. No need to keep standing here, let's go to my room.

Figaro: Hm? Faust, you have dark circles under your eyes.

Faust: I just had trouble falling asleep last night. Nothing to worry about.

Figaro: I see. Then I'll bring you some herbs to help you fall asleep later.

Faust: It's just one night, Don't make a big deal out of it...

Figaro: Faust.

Faust: ……..

Faust: Fine, I get it.

Akira: (When looking at them this way, it's like Faust is Figaro's student too. They were originally in a master-disciple relationship after all...)

Akira: (Not only young wizards, but also long-lived wizards like Faust rely on him.)

The future illuminated by moonlight - Episode 2

Snow: Sage, how many sugars do you want in your tea?

Akira: Just one, please!

White: Okay! What about Figaro-chan?

Figaro: I'll go without. Also, why are you two in my room?

Snow: Hohoho! Because we heard the sage was going to interview Figaro.

White: As your master, we may be able to give you some advice. Also, I have to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't go too far.

Figaro: No trust at all.

Akira: Haha, it's okay. Figaro is a kind person, and I can always rely on him.

Akira: He has a broad perspective, is knowledgeable, and carefree...I don't think I'm the only one who's been helped by Figaro.

Figaro: I'm so happy to hear you think of me like that.

Figaro: Shall I tell you a side of me that you may not know yet?

Snow, White: That's what we mean, Figaro-chan~

Snow: But... There's no mistaking you for anything but an exceptional wizard.

White: Here, let us spoil you sometimes. Is there anything you want?

Figaro: Hmm, let's see.

Figaro: Maybe high-quality liquor? A fruit liquor that's been aged for hundreds of years under the eternal snow of the north...

Snow, White: Sure!

Figaro: Eh?

Snow, White: Here 《Noscomnia》!

As the two chanted the spell, an old-fashioned bottle appeared in their hands. The amber liquid swayed through the glass.

Snow: You play a part in running this ill-fated magic manor.

White: It's a master's duty to listen to their disciple's whims and show him kindness too.

Figaro: Are you sure? It must be quite valuable.

Snow: Of course. We received it as a tribute some time ago, and it's been sitting in the warehouse ever since.

White: Shall we have a toast now? I'm sure the sage will join us.

Akira: Yes! I'll just have tea, but if that's okay.

Figaro: Even Master Sage...

Figaro: Thank you. But I'll just accept the sentiment.

Figaro: I have some in stock on the shelves in my room, and I don't want to make you guys drink just for me.

Snow, White: Eh~ You sure?

Figaro: Besides, I'm going to talk to Master Sage now, so I'll have some tea for a while.

Akira: Figaro...Thank you. Well then, let's get the interview started!

The future illuminated by moonlight - Episode 3

That evening.

Figaro: …….

While walking to the courtyard, I found Figaro sitting on the edge of the fountain with a glass in his hand.

I remember meeting Figaro here after my previous interview too.

Figaro: Oh, Master Sage. You look happy. Did something good happen?

Akira: Good evening, Figaro. You looked like you were enjoying your drink so.

Figaro: Is that enough to make you happy? You're so cute.

Figaro: This is the drink we were talking about this afternoon. It's so good, I should have accepted the twins's after all.

Figaro: I had plenty, but this is the last glass.

Shaking the amber in his glass reluctantly, Figaro looked up at the moon.

Figaro: The moon is beautiful tonight too. It seems today is a day I get to talk a lot with you.

Figaro: Want to join me in a chat while I drink?

Akira: Yes, of course! 

I nodded and sat down next to Figaro.

The night breeze brushed against our cheeks. The sound of leaves rustling, and occasional voices coming from the magic manor.

Amid the quiet, comfortable hustle and bustle, the ice in the glass clanged.

Figaro: ...Hey. Do you remember the Moon's road we talked about here before?

Akira: ……

Figaro: Oh, I'm sorry. Was I being a bit mean?

Akira: No, it's just...

A moon road floating on the sea. Figaro once entered the freezing sea, chasing the light of the moon.

Everything that had parted with him lived in that beautiful silver world of the moon...

Figaro said that he saw it as a pathway to reach that place.

Akira: Do you still want to go beyond the Moon Road, Figaro?

Akira: The hometown you lost, the people you were separated from by death...

Akira: To meet all the people who left you behind.

Figaro: Let's see… What do you want me to do?

The silver moon shone on him.

The wise eyes of someone who has lived through so much time, quietly wait for my answer.

Akira: I don't want you to go.

Akira: There are still so many sights I want to see with you, so many things I want to do, and I haven't repaid your kindness yet.

Akira: I still haven't found a way for you to be happy.

Akira: And, more than anything, I'll be sad to say goodbye.

Figaro: Then, I won't go.

Akira: Figaro...

Figaro: I'm still here. Is it boring to give you the same answer as last time?

Akira: Not at all! It's the best answer. To me… it's really...

Figaro's long fingers lift his glass. The little bit of amber liquid that remains tilts, and his throat sallows.

He put his empty glass down and laughed softly.

Figaro: That's good to hear.

I can only say because it's now - Card Episode

Figaro: Hello, Master Sage. Did the interview go well?

Akira: Yes! Talking to you all again, I'm deeply moved by the fact that we've spent such a long time together, even though it seemed short.

Akira: Some people have told me things that they can only say because it's now... Is there anything like that for you, Figaro?

Figaro: Hmm, I guess so. It's not really because it's now but...

Figaro: When I get cold in the night wind, I think drinking alcohol is good, but I've come to think that drinking hot tea is also good.

Akira: Maybe... you remembered what I recommended to you when we interviewed before?

Figaro: Yeah. The other day, I made some hot tea after I got back to my room.

Figaro: Thanks to that, I slept well.

Akira: That's great! Drinking alcohol while enjoying the night breeze must be nice, but...

Akira: I'd be worried if you got sick, so please keep it in moderation.

Figaro: If you say something so cute, I guess I have to be careful.

Figaro: In that case, would you like to join me for tea time again tonight so we don't end up drinking too much?

Akira: Yes, of course!

Homescreen Voiceline

One time, I offered to make a promise to someone, but I got rejected because they said they couldn't trust me. ...I wonder if, even a little, I've become a man who is worthy of trust now?

[derpydoteddrake]

Viktor is under some kind of influence, but at first glance it's hard to tell the exact nature of it.

But I believe its more simple than one would think.

The core is basically jingling keys in front of him and telling him to look at them.

But I believe its more simple than one would think.

The core is basically jingling keys in front of him and telling him to look at them.

Firstly, why is the sky hallucination sus? could it just be his own mind?

Her guiding him to her book and later showing up next to the shimmer addict could be explained as just his conscious.

However, he also woke up to her screams and it was her voice that guided him to the addicts, both things go beyond what could manifest only from his own perception of things.

Not only that, this is the exact place where he later cocoons himself again. So it's no accident he ended up here.

It's also good to note how Viktors saw her differently then how she was, he sees him as a more idolised version of herself, which is als a good indication that she is not real.

But then in act 2 she appeals completely harmless, she doesn't push him into anything, and it looks like she offers some sense of emotional support.

And that's the point, it's feeding into viktors weaknesses as a person, all it needs to do, is give him the illusion of company, and keep him in his head.

Viktor was always a loner, but he also seeked out second opinions and he was in fact very lonely and wished for company.

This is exactly what the core is giving him the illusion of. A second opinion and company.

By herself “sky” does not offer any new information to viktor, she is either stathing things he is already aware of, things viktor thinks she would say, or reassures him.

“She liked me, she would be concerned about me!”

“I remember telling her that once!”

“She was caring, she would be upset at someone's death!”

In fact, it might even try to distract him from the important things, we don't see a lot of it, but the moment Viktor starts to wonder what's up with Jayce, she attempts to move his thoughts elsewhere from thinking about what is wrong with him.

Viktors perception of the world is fundamentally changed, this is already pretty isolating but now he has a mind buddy! He's Not alone anymore, there's someone who talks to him, who cares about him, who he can share ideas with,

someone who loves him.

I'm going to concede, I do think their relationship has a romantic undertone, if for nothing else it's because viktors perception of sky is pretty heavily defined by her love letters to him.

Regardless of your reading (how much do you think he reciprocates that), it is giving him the company he wished for.

Why is that bad?

It's because it keeps him docile, and so far up his own 4ss that he doesn't realise how messed up what he is actually doing is. He is stuck with his own regurgitated thoughts.

The only thing he ever gets is reassurance that what he is doing is in fact good, he doesn't have an outside perspective on what's happening with him or around him.

He doesn't have the head space to self reflect cuz something always chimes in, always keeps him thinking, solving problems, solving puzzles.

We never once saw him actively trying to talk to any of his followers, the only people who he does are not affected by him, and come to him directly, he didn't even bother seeking out Jayce himself.

The only way he communicates with them is when he wants to do his creepy puppet thing and if the only thing left in his followers head is gratitude towards him and he never examines what it did to them as people, no wonder he doesn't notice a thing.

He just unquestionably spreads the core's influence.

No wonder the first awful idea anyone gave him in who knows how long that isn't his own stuck with him.

He always had a tendency to get sucked into his work and dont bother with people (ironically that is one of the reasons sky got dusted) and don't bother with anything else, and now the conditions are orchestrated for this to basically keep him in his own head.

He doesn't really care about his followers either, he watched one of them get smashed and didn't give a damn.

He doesn't care for them as people, they are more akin to problems he can solve and move on. He was barely even bothered about Jayce's condition, probably assuming he will come to him and he can fix him right away.

We can see this in his visions of how he conceptualizes himself, he looks very human, and yet he got these unsettling yellow eyes. He is blind to the ways he changed, just look at how he acts in them.

At first glance he appears a lot more emotive and it also tells us that he is fairly enjoying himself and his new perception of the world but also the main thing we see of him is his endless curiosity about things, not his empathy towards them.

He is well meaning of course, but he doesn't/cant reflect enough to see what he is really doing. Namely taking away the things he saw in these people, their dreams.

And he constantly has problems to solve, we saw how many people went to him, he always has something to think about, and he always has someone to talk to about it without needing to waste precious time on seeking out a second opinion.

In s1 he barely reacted to the beginning of a civil war going around him, now people depend on him and in the middle of a civil war he doesn't have any way of protecting these people.

He barely gives a damn about him slowly deteriorating. He doesn't live in reality anymore. He cannot see the forest for the trees. (though he might have had some plans we don't know of, since Salo was gathering materials for him.)

And his guilt just amplifies this.

From s1 one of his strongest traits was how much he believed if he gets the right tools, and the opportunity, he can help people.

“Do you think my life ambition is to be an assistant?”

“If you are going to change the world don't ask for permission.”

“All I did was believe in myself.”

This is what skys death puts into question.

This is why he almost jumped afterwards, this fundamental belief in himself was put into question. He got the chance to do what he wanted and someone died.

This is where his guilt comes into play, he isn't making his own dream a reality, we saw that what he really wanted is to give people tools that they can use to create, but that's not what he is doing.

He is doing what he believes Skye's dream was.

It doesn't even look like he invents things anymore, he just mostly uses his powers and studies botanics. (tho we saw Salo steal some stuff for him so he might have some plans that we don't know yet?)

This is even the context he brought her up to jayce: she had such dreams.

From her notes we can assume she hoped to help make a zaun that is cleaner and more connected to nature.

This is the reason why he is so receptive to skyes positive affirmation, its because in his head he is correcting his wrong, her affirmation and forgiveness gave him back the belief that he can still do good.

Now he has the right tools and the opportunity to do it, so he won't fail again.

He is literally wearing her symbol on his clothes.

He is doing this out of some kind of repentance for his sins.

So the way he sees it: he is helping these people, who on they own free will just happen to stay here cuz its nice and he conveniently can puppet them if needed, he doesn't question that cuz he never bothers to talk to them and skys happy and she talks to him so why bother when no one sees the world like he does.

What he doesn't realise is that he is pretty much meant to die there.

There's a reason why his palace was builded here, he literally got told to build it there. It was there so he could die and cocoon himself again.

When he first saw jayce and encountered the singularity, he was literally describing himself.

“self annihilating and replicating” That's him, this entity is connected to him, he is meant to die and be reborn over and over again. He might not completely embody it yet, but he is a product of it. (and he will probably gonna try to harness it, that's what the beginning of ep 6 set up.)

I don't think he expected jayce to shoot him, when he saw what he was going to do he looked pretty shocked, but he was intentionally kept docile by the core basically guaranteeing that even actually he will die out.

And then he had the audacity to conclude it must have happened cuz people just suck.

He tried nothing to prevent this and he is already out of options.

To his defense he was probably really lost in the sauce at this point.

This is also why he was making his following, he was supposed to draw power from them after he dies so he can be reborn again.

This also means that singed and ambessa are probably interfering with this process.

It would explain why he looks so wrong in the poster.

In conclusion, the core keeps Viktor in a mind state where he is docile enough not to question what's happening around him using his already existing flaws against him in order to spread itself.

One last thing I would like to add is that I don't think this will be his final transformation, I believe the final one will either happen at the top of the hex gate or at the bottom of it.

[nomercymaster11]

Through Law's eyes (Chapter 4)

@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO

WC: 2,993 | Law x y/n, afab!reader | continuation of "We should talk" A/N: My attempt of writing a first person perspective, Law's POV, reminiscing the days before that one fateful day. It's been about three years now since she became part of our crew. I remember the day she barged into our lives like a storm, all fierce determination, and pleading eyes. We'd just finished a mission on one of the islands in the North Blue, and she'd been instrumental in our success.

But when she asked to join us, I wasn't exactly jumping at the chance. See, it's not that I had anything against her personally—it's just that taking on new crew members is a big decision. Let alone another woman, aside from Ikkaku, to join the crew.

But as Penguin—bless his chatty soul—filled me in on her background, I started to see things differently. Turns out, she wasn't just some runaway trying to escape a bad situation. She had skills—mad skills. Not only was she handy with medicine, but she knew her way around basic mechanics too. That's the kind of resourcefulness you can't ignore on the Grand Line.

Penguin had spent some time with her while we were sorting out the aftermath of our mission. He couldn't stop talking about her, which, coming from him, was saying something. But the more he told me, the more I realized that she belonged with us. She wasn't just looking for a way out—she was looking for a purpose. And maybe, just maybe, we could give her that.

So, despite my initial reservations, I welcomed her aboard.

At first, she struggled with sea sickness, poor thing. But she didn't let it keep her down for long. Despite her initial queasiness, she threw herself into life aboard the Polar Tang with all the gusto of a seasoned sailor. She had this tomboyish vibe about her, fitting right in with the rough-and-tumble atmosphere of our crew.

Watching her adjust was like seeing a flower bloom in the midst of a storm. Day by day, she grew more accustomed to the rhythms of life at sea. And when she finally donned that crisp, white overall suit—the same one worn by the rest of the Heart Pirates—it was like she'd always been one of us. The crew welcomed her with open arms, and she fit in seamlessly.

I often caught glimpses of her shadowing Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo, soaking up their knowledge like a sponge. They took her under their wing, showing her the ropes of ship life, teaching her the ins and outs of the Polar Tang. They made sure she knew the rules I'd laid down, and they filled her in on all the little tricks and quirks of submarine living. And you know what? She took it all in stride, like it was second nature to her.

As they reported her progress to me, I couldn't help but be impressed. She was a quick learner, picking up skills that took others years to master. And every time I nodded in approval, it was like giving her a silent pat on the back. She was proving herself, not just to me, but to the whole crew.

                                              XXXX

I remember that moment vividly, like it was yesterday. I was making my rounds through the submarine when I noticed a faint glow emanating from beneath the door of my office. Curiosity piqued, I approached quietly and peeked through the small window. There she was, surrounded by a sea of medical books, completely engrossed in their pages. Her expression was a mix of fascination and concentration, her lips forming silent words as she absorbed the knowledge within those worn pages.

I knocked softly, not wanting to startle her, and she jumped, clearly caught off guard. As I entered, she stood up quickly, blinking rapidly as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be touching these," she apologized, her voice tinged with guilt.

But I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "No problem at all. You're welcome to borrow them anytime."

Her face lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and she grinned at me eagerly. "I also brought some medical books with me when I came aboard the sub. Can I keep them here?" she asked, gesturing to the stack of books she'd brought with her.

I nodded, touched by her enthusiasm. It wasn't every day that someone showed such genuine interest in expanding their knowledge.

And so, our impromptu study sessions began. It was the only time we were truly alone together, just the two of us surrounded by the wealth of knowledge contained within those walls. And as we poured over the books, exchanging insights and ideas, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness growing between us. She wasn't just a member of my crew—she was a kindred spirit, hungry for knowledge and eager to learn.

This isn’t something we do on a regular basis. During those rare moments when our duties aligned and we found ourselves in the same room, engrossed in our respective books, I couldn't help but steal glances at her. There was something mesmerizing about the way she immersed herself in her reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving silently as she absorbed the words on the page.

One particular night stands out in my memory. We were seated across from each other, the soft glow of the lamplight casting gentle shadows across her features. As I lifted my gaze from the text in front of me, I found myself studying her with a newfound curiosity. Her long lashes brushed against her cheeks with each blink, and her eyes darted back and forth across the pages, devouring every word. My gaze trailed down to the delicate curve of her nose, and then lingered on her lips—soft and full, like petals begging to be kissed.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the sudden wave of distraction that washed over me. I couldn't afford to get lost in thoughts of her—not when there were duties to attend to, and a ship to command. But despite my best efforts to focus on my reading, my mind kept drifting back to her, like a ship caught in an irresistible current.

What are you doing? I chided myself silently, forcing my attention back. I couldn't afford to let myself be distracted—not by her, or by anything else. But as I stole one last glance at her, her beauty illuminated by the soft glow of the lamplight, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.

But such thoughts were dangerous, I reminded myself sternly. We were pirates, after all—outlaws on the high seas. And as much as I might have wanted to, I couldn't allow myself to get too close. Not when the stakes were so high, and the dangers so real. So, with a sigh, I forced myself to turn back to my book, pushing aside the tantalizing thoughts that threatened to consume me. But deep down, I knew that no matter how hard I tried to resist, she had already captured a piece of my heart.

That moment of distraction was like a brief flicker of light in the darkness—a glimmer of something I hadn't felt in ages. But I knew better than to let it take root. Emotions were a dangerous thing for a pirate, especially someone in my position. So, I buried those feelings deep down, resolved to concentrate on the current task.

                                               XXXX

I threw myself into my duties with a renewed vigor, strategizing and planning with a single-minded intensity. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and before I knew it, a year had slipped by like sand through my fingers. We had crossed into the treacherous waters of the Grand Line, where danger lurked around every corner and the ocean itself seemed to rise up against us.

In the depths of the Grand Line, the challenges we faced were unlike anything we'd encountered before. The sea monsters were larger, fiercer, and more relentless than those of the North Blue. Every day was a battle for survival, as we navigated through storms and dodged the attacks of creatures that seemed intent on tearing our ship apart.

But despite the dangers, I found solace in the chaos. In the midst of battle, there was no room for distraction or doubt. Every decision had to be made with precision and clarity, every move calculated to ensure our survival. And as the captain of the Heart Pirates, it was my responsibility to lead my crew through the storm and into calmer waters.

So, I pushed aside any lingering thoughts of her. There would be time for reflection later, when the seas were calm and the danger had passed. But for now, my only concern was keeping my crew safe and steering our ship toward our next destination in the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line.

                                           XXXX

It was on one such stop at an island that another incident unfolded. As I stood by the dock, mulling over our next course of action, she came bounding towards me, her fiery determination evident in every step.

I couldn't help but let out a sigh as she stood there, her lips set in a determined pout. This wasn't the first time we'd had this argument, and I had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be the last. She was stubborn, that much was clear, and when she set her mind to something, there was no stopping her.

But as much as her defiance grated on my nerves, I couldn't deny that there was something undeniably endearing about her fiery spirit. Even when she was being a brat, there was a spark in her eyes that I couldn't help but admire.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to quell the rising frustration within me. "Fine, have it your way," I relented, knowing that arguing any further would be futile. "But on one condition."

Her eyes lit up with curiosity as she leaned in, waiting for my terms. "What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"If you're able to land even a small cut on me anywhere on my body, I'll let you join Penguin and the others in their sparring," I replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

I told her that she’s supposed to be a support and not someone who fights on the frontline.

Her expression faltered for a moment, a hint of doubt flickering across her features. "That's not fair! You're way stronger than me!" she protested; her frustration evident.

I shrugged nonchalantly, not about to back down. "Then give up, easy as that," I teased, hoping to quell her whining once and for all.

But instead of conceding defeat, she squared her shoulders and met my gaze head-on. "Let me practice first," she declared, her determination shining through.

And in that moment, I knew there was no stopping her. Whether I liked it or not, she was going to find a way to prove herself, even if it meant facing off against me, her captain, in a battle of wills. And as much as I tried to resist, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride swell within me at the sight of her unwavering determination. She may have been a handful, but she was my crewmate, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

As the crew gathered on the shore, forming a circle around us, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through my veins. The air was charged with excitement, and I tightened my grip on Kikoku, its weight resting comfortably on my shoulder, while the other hand remained tucked inside my pocket.  Beside me stood <y/n>, a few inches away, her movements fluid as she stretched her arms, cracked her knuckles, and warmed up her legs. The intensity in her eyes was unmistakable; she was dead serious about this.

"You can still back out if you want to," I offered, my voice laced with a hint of warning.

"Why? Are you scared of me?" she shot back, her voice laced with playful defiance.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the crew, egging us on as we prepared to face off. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her cockiness, unsure where her newfound confidence was coming from.

"What's going on?" Shachi whispered to Penguin, his curiosity evident.

"It appears that the two had a deal, something like that," Penguin replied, his arms crossed as he observed the scene. He had assisted her briefly in honing her swordsmanship skills.

As we squared off, I caught Shachi and Penguin exchanging whispered words, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. They knew something was up, but they trusted me enough to let things play out.

"Just to let you know, I won't hold back. You wanted this after all," I warned her, my grip tightening around my sword as I began to unsheathe it slowly. Truth be told, I was bluffing. Landing a small bruise on her would be sufficient—I had no desire for her to harbor any ill will towards me. But perhaps teaching her a lesson was necessary.

For a moment, hesitation flickered in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her own sword but then she squared her shoulders and advanced towards me. It was easy for me to anticipate her moves, to parry her attacks effortlessly. Despite her lack of experience, she wielded her sword with conviction, her determination evident with each swing. But there was something different about her—something unexpected.

"I thought you're not going to hold back? Why are you on the defensive?" she taunted, her words ringing in the air.

I couldn't help but smirk at her audacity. With a swift movement, I vanished from her line of sight, only to reappear behind her, ready to strike. But to my surprise, she anticipated my move, twisting her body to block my attack with her sword.

Her movements were fluid and precise, as if she could see right through me. And when I attacked again, she parried effortlessly, her eyes locked on mine with a steely determination. Testing my theory, I attacked from a different angle, only for her to evade once more.

"Since when did you know you could use Observation Haki?" I asked, taken aback by her newfound skill.

"I wasn't sure," she admitted, panting slightly from exertion. "I started seeing things differently."

She was full of surprises, that much was clear. But even as we continued to clash, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her than met the eye.

"The deal is still on though," I reminded her, my voice firm.

"I won't back down," she replied

She may have been a novice, but she had the heart of a warrior, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of respect for her in that moment.

As our sparring continued, I couldn't help but admire her tenacity and marvel her progress. Despite her initial hesitations, she was adapting quickly, her movements becoming more fluid and precise with each exchange. The cheers of the crew egged us on, fueling the fire that burned between us.

But as the minutes dragged on, I found myself growing weary of the fight. With a final swing of my sword, I sent her weapon flying, causing her to lose her balance. Her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the fall, but before she could hit the ground, I acted on instinct, hooking my arm around her to steady her. Our eyes locked in a moment of shared intensity, breaths ragged, chests rising and falling in unison. I could feel the warmth of her hand against my chest, the beads of sweat glistening on our foreheads.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around us fading into the background as we stood locked in that intimate embrace. But the sound of applause from the crew jolted me back to reality, and I quickly helped her to her feet, trying to ignore the strange fluttering in my chest.

Retrieving my sword and sheathing it once more, I took a moment to catch my breath, removing my fur hat to run a hand through my hair. But before I could even gather my thoughts, she was already asking about joining the others in their sparring sessions.

"You didn't land a scar anywhere on me. So, it's still a no," I replied firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Her face fell instantly, her lips forming again to a pout that I couldn't help but find endearing. But I refused to let myself give in to her charms—not now, not ever.

"Rules are rules. You know that" I reminded her, furrowing my brows in a gesture that I hoped conveyed my seriousness.

But she wasn't about to give up so easily. Grabbing my arms, she examined them closely, searching for any sign of injury. She squeezed my hand firmly, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. Then, she cupped my face in her hands, her touch gentle yet probing. She moved my head from side to side, inspecting me for any hidden injuries, her eyes scanning my features with unwavering focus. I stiffened under her touch, caught off guard by her sudden gesture. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirling within me.

"Stop that," I scolded lightly, trying to mask the way her touch affected me.

With a resigned sigh, I watched as the crew began to make their way back to the submarine. But even as we parted ways, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much bigger—something that would change us both in ways we couldn't even begin to imagine.

Chapter 3.5 | Chapter 4.5 (Almost at the end)

[aly-writes]

Hi Aly! I love your writing so much! Can I request Arisu, Karube, and Chishiya headcannons with a smart significant other? Only if you feel writing it of course :) Thank you if you do - I look forward to seeing what you write next!!

y'all i finished revenge of others and i am OBSESSED with seok jaebum... anyways! i added kyuma and banda as characters i'll write for, so in the future feel free to request for them<3

there are a lot of different types of smarts in life (book smarts, street smarts, emotional intelligence, etc.) so i just had s/o written out as a combination of all of them. here you go nonnie!

warnings: none :)

arisu, chishiya, and karube with a smart s/o

arisu ryohei

arisu is so boyfriend material haha, he's always sooo impressed with you.

he knew you had a decent amount of intelligence based off of the test scores you showed him from university, but the first time you were fully able to show it off was during a game

it was a diamonds game, which wasn't exactly his strong suit (literally)

arisu is actually pretty smart himself, but he couldn't keep up with you during the game. your mind was working so fast and figuring things out at lightning speed

the group managed to finish the game with barely any casualties thanks to your quick mind and brilliant strategies. naturally, arisu had to bring it up in conversation

this boy showers you in compliments! he's so so sweet

he's your biggest fan, always bragging about you and rambling on about how amazing it was that you were able to do something so quick

you're the first person he'll come to if he needs anything at all.

he truly does trust your intuition more than his own. if you have a bad feeling about something, he makes sure to look at it through your viewpoint to try and understand what he's missing

more often than not, your warnings come in handy and he dodges a bullet. when he doesn't listen, he tends to notice things usually go bad

arisu also has smarts, so when the two of you start talking about whatever, those specific talks can go on for hours and hours

you both bring up new perspectives and different opinions and it's just so great

he's really really thoughtful and it makes the two of you super compatible :)

before he dropped out of university, you two were definitely study partners.

sometimes he would get a little too reliant on your knowledge and found himself basically dumping his entire homework load onto you

you never really noticed though, and you managed to help him solve the problems with such ease that it didn't really feel like homework at all

this benefitted both of you greatly though, because each time he solved a problem with your help he got a kiss as a reward

oh, plus cuddle breaks in between

and if he managed to solve three problems in a row without much of your help? you basically pampered him with kisses all over his face

his family absolutely loves you

kind of sad, but his dad and brother really like you because they believe you have the potential they think arisu lacks

you never treat them disrespectfully, but you definitely talk shit about them behind closed doors with arisu

cause how dare they talk about your precious bf like that?

you're kind of a mediator for him, karube, and chota though

hate to say it, but putting these three together inevitably causes stupid ideas to come up

you try to be the voice of reason. sometimes they listen to you, sometimes they don't

karube will playfully call you a 'buzzkill' because you shoot down their dangerous adventures, but it's all with good intent

when you're not around them, karube and chota will definitely hype you up to arisu though

"how did you even manage to pull someone so smart arisu?"

"his dad must be paying her, huh chota?"

on the other side though, sometimes the two of you clash.

arisu undeniably thinks with his heart most of the time. especially outside of games

you tend to stick with your brains and rely on them to get you through tough situations. this can lead to some tough arguments

you think of things logically and he comes at it emotionally, so sometimes it's hard to see eye-to-eye

you both love each other a lot though, so you always figure something out at the end of the day

you trust in your head so you tend to be stubborn and need time to yourself, but he will always rely on his feelings for you to get through these types of things

overall...

expect a lot of praise and reliance from him

he finds you super trustworthy and levelheaded, so your his go-to for anything at anytime

chishiya shuntaro

oh boy, i don't even know where to start with him? let's just say... things can get intense

chishiya is highly intelligent. you are also highly intelligent. this is where you both struggle

you can pick his brain a little too good for his liking and sometimes it bothers him. he can't really get anything past you, and the same goes the other way around

he can tend to get manipulative when things go south, and you match his energy

things that work on anybody else don't work on you, and it kind of freaks him out lol

he likes to be in control of everything around him, which includes the feelings of other people. you don't give him the chance to do this

this leads to a lot of passive aggressiveness and tension

but the tension is honestly the best part of your relationship

there is so much teasing and banter between the two of you

you both play the high-stakes game of 'who can get a smart remark past the other one first' and it makes things really fun

affection can get really exciting between the two of you because of this. after a day full of teasing it's quite interesting to see who breaks first in terms of relationship things

honestly? most of the time it's you, but when you decide to get stubborn and hold out, chishiya gets a little touchy and you find it cute

when you both have a common goal you make a great team

it's very true that two heads are greater than one

when one person makes the plan, the other will go over it and quickly catch any mistakes or holes that are missing

anything that you both work on together is almost unsettlingly perfect

while your smarts can sometimes lead to incompatibility, there are certain things that the two of you understand about each other that no one else does

you both can have really great conversations with each other. you don't have to hold back any of your thoughts because you know chishiya will always understand them, and it's great

you and him look at things objectively all the time, so emotions don't tend to get in the way of things you place higher priority over

both of you need your alone time, so codependency is never an issue

finally, you understand chishiya like nobody else does. you know how his brain works and you know how he views things. the best part about it? you send him no judgement

chishiya doesn't think of you as a chore because he's aware that you're probably the smartest person in a room full of people. he doesn't have to take care of you which is bliss for him

you guys have a lot of inside jokes as well, things so deeply exclusive to only you two that nobody dares to understand

you're a very intimidating couple

it's kind of difficult to make couple friends due to this intimidation factor, so double dates are off the table

chishiya was never much of a people person anyway, so it doesn't bother him

you're perfectly content mentally stimulating each other. things never get boring around him

overall...

you're able to perform the crazy feat of being seen as an equal by the one and only chishiya!

he's clever, but so are you. as much as it can be an annoyance, he actually finds you very entertaining

there's definitely a lot of trust between you two simply because you're one in the same. you know the saying 'don't do anything i wouldn't do'? basically your relationship in a nutshell

karube daikichi

karube is such a showoff LMAO

as a bartender, he comes across a lot of aggressive drunk dudes that aren't afraid to diss him and the things he holds dear to him. his family, his friends, and you as well

as childish as it is, his favorite thing to hit them with is "i bet my s/o is smarter than yours"

he just absolutely loves to use you as bragging rights and it's great

he's constantly learning from you and is extremely interested in anything you say

karube didn't graduate high school. he will absolutely eat up any fact you tell him and loves to learn things from you

he thinks the way that you talk is so captivating and will continuously ask you to repeat yourself just so he can hear you speak

he shares the facts you told him with arisu and chota and feels so smart

when they ask him where he learned that, he will proudly tell them that he got it from you

he doesn't feel inferior to you at all lol, he absolutely worships you

at first you were a bit hesitant to accept how much praise he would give you, but you eased up to it

similar to arisu, compliments compliments compliments

they're all over the place

he will brag about you to anything that breathes, especially when you're around

he actually finds that talking about you to other people is more fun than talking about himself. you're truly his gem and he finds you so special

he really likes to see you in your element and could watch you for hours

whether it's math, science, art, or whatever you're good at

when you start to really get into something, you focus on it entirely and he finds it super interesting to watch

he likes to watch the little habits you do. the only one he's pointed out to you is how you tap your thumb on the pads of your other fingers back and forth

he likes to hear you get logical

he sometimes tells you about the people that come into the bar and spill their life stories

when he does this, he will purposefully ask you to break down your thoughts so he can get an understanding of what your brain is thinking

"well obviously the reason his wife is asking him to clean up the dishes is because she's trying hard to get a promotion at work and comes home tired everyday! how can he not see that? she's not working hard for nothing..."

"really, babe? i didn't think of it that way"

he especially enjoys it when you start to criticize people and get a little snarky with them. he witnessed it once when someone was giving you attitude and he thought it was the hottest thing he had ever seen

you basically broke down their emotions for them and matched their tone, but did it in such a cool way lol his heart was pounding

overall...

karube thinks your smarts are such an amazing feature

he can't match them but he's totally okay with it, because now he has a smart s/o that is totally better than anybody else's