#sorry for the NOVEL but I love my girl so dearly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purgemarchlockdown · 2 months

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New Apple

(Also Known as: Nott Broke, I am now writing the WKTD-Amane Cross Analysis. This is also the Trans Amane Momose Thesis)

(CWs: Cults, Child Abuse, Child Death, Body Horror, Homophobia, Transphobia.)

(Spoilers for We Know The Devil and Milgram.)

I am a unrepentant fan of the Visual Novel We Know The Devil. I love it dearly, I think it's one of the best Things ever made.

I am also a...fan, to say the least, of Amane Momose. I think about her every day. And as a result I've thought about these two things together a lot. I think there's a lot of thematically cohesion that can be derived from putting the two together.

Since this is Milgram Focused, I'm going to put an explanation for what the plot of WKTD is first before continuing.

WKTD is a 2015 VN about Three Bad Kids at a Christian Summer Camp who are sent to meet The Devil one day in a cabin in the woods. This game is about Queer Religious Horror and has great prose and you should play it-

Now, there are already comparisons that can be drawn to Amane's cult and the game's main premise, but let's discuss each of the three kids first.

No Prince For The Princesses

Starting with Jupiter. Jupiter is the tomboyish good kid of the bunch or, more accurately, tries her best to be the good kid to minimal success.

Laughing off a head injury isn't all that Jupiter's good at; she has the best grades in class, and coaches make her starter on whatever team has the most pressing need for someone who can do sports. She's a perfect role model, except for how she always misses the winning goal and she always blanks on the last question. She leads when no one else wants to, which is always.

Jupiter can keep up until right when it matters the most. It's here where I mention Jupiter snaps a hairband against her wrist, a common tactic used as an alternative to self-harm.

Her place in the dysfunctional group of problem kids becoming clear as her issues with being the perfect good kid and her immense self-hate and loathing start to seep through. Jupiter struggles under this weight of expectations and pleasing others but tries to pretend she an:

Neptune: ascetic monk at not giving a shit.

To her own detriment, she hangs out with the Worst Group in the Camp of Worst Kids just so she can get them to stay away from her. If they just like her enough then they won't bother her. Even if she personally dislikes them and how they act.

Not that she...enjoys acting like this. She's disgusted by the idea of the Counselor liking her. Because:

Jupiter: He likes people he can make a little uncomfortable and won't give any trouble about it.

Though as Venus says, that's exactly why he likes their group.

Jupiter is someone who's resigned to reality being like this. To being considered a bad kid even though she tried so hard. Sure it's unfair and people have tried a lot less than her but:

Jupiter: You can still get better at this, if you try, you know?

Even I can say "I'm sorry" Even I have hope I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it!

Anyway, Jupiter Kisses Girls. She Likes Women. She's a Lesbian. She has a Seven Minutes in Heaven Scene with Neptune where they Kiss-

That kiss having a lot of relevance to how (specifically) a t1 Amane attempts to approach certain taboo ideas and concepts.

Jupiter: It's not real if we don't say it out loud, right?

Amane tends to talk around things in T1. It's not immediately noticeable but it's prevalent in a lot of her speak. Specifically when taboo ideas come into play. Instead of saying anything directly she talks around it.

(Apostle and Death)

Amane: Okay! I’m kind, so I shall forgive you. That’s nice, isn’t it? If my parents were in my place, you would have been lectured for another hour.

This is my favorite example, as Amane is just calling her parents unkind here. But, Amane isn't really good at talking around things. In the same VD, when faced with the knoweldge that she's being underestimated she immdieatly talks about her genuine feelings about being treated like a child, and being talked down to because of it. Being very forward and open about her own emotions.

Outside of that we have instances of her showing interest in things that are believed to be taboo, or at least in things discouraged by her community.

(20/06/27, Amane’s Birthday)

Amane: I don’t need it. I’ll gratefully accept your well-wishes, but I don’t eat things like that. Also…… Shidou-san, I can’t say I’m especially fond of the way you assume that all children will love frivolous things like this. Shidou: ………… Is that so… I apologise. I’m sure everyone else will be happy to eat it, so don’t worry about it. Sorry for intruding. Amane: ………… ……cake……

She even disrespects the blue flag in Purge March, the flag representing "discarding vulgarity"

Considering both how a lot of the generally aesthetics of Magic and Purge March seem to be considered frivolous. And her being forbidden to go to an amusement park.

T1Q5:When you go to an amusement park, what do you like to ride? A: That is a place I should not go to.

I think we can infer that these things are consider vulgar and wanting them anyway. She wants something outside of what she has. Something that she tries to Hide in her interrogations. (Interrogations)

T1Q3: If you were allowed to do anything, what would you want to do? Nothing really. I am not lacking anything.

T1Q17: What would you do if the world ends tomorrow? If everything ends? Then, I might do all sorts of things I have never done before.

(Put a pin in these interros, we are Going to come back to them.)

It's wrong to want such a thing, she knows this well. That's why she doesn't say it out loud. It's not real until she does. No one can punish her for it if she doesn't say anything.

Except...they Do. Same with Jupiter, people who didn't try as hard to get into the "proper, good girl" summer scouts got in when Jupiter didn't. Amane studies so hard and yet she only gets a 83% when Kotoko is tutoring her.

(20/06/18)

Kotoko: There, I’ve finished marking. 83%. How do I put it… Even though you act like this, it’s not like you’re super brilliant at studying or anything, huh.

She just blanks at the last question.

Misses the winning goal.

Something about Her is...inherently holding them back from this illustrious standard of being a good girl. It's just, impossible for her to be one. She knows this herself.

Only if, only if, only if I could be a good girl

And even though she tries, she Can't do anything to change that. In the same way that no matter how hard Jupiter tries, people instinctively understand that she's something Other somehow. The both of them being harmed over and over again in an attempt to live up to ideals that they will...never be able to live up to.

The system of We Know The Devil works like this, you choose two kids and leave one behind each hour. Leave one behind enough and they become the devil. The worst kid out of all of them.

Jupiter does her best but her best is never going to be enough. So if she gets excluded enough times...

Even the best kid has the devil inside her.

Jupiter wants to touch, to hit, to pull.

Venus: I wish I could be meaner. I wish I could be so much meaner.

She's never going to be able to make up for this incessant greedy Want.

Her hairband snaps here, she can't keep the devil away for much longer, and she knows it.

Jupiter: You know, I actually liked when the captain talked about how heaven was on merit; as long as you do good things, maybe you can one day be good… Jupiter: But then they said we don’t believe that anymore and it’s only what’s in your heart that matters. Jupiter: Just when I think I got it right, they changed it. Jupiter: I can try hard, but I think… Jupiter: God knows my heart isn’t really in it. And that was my only shot, right?

Amane considers love a showcase of mercy,

T2Q9: What does love mean to you? A: To spread mercy with no limits.

And considers her punishments love.

T2Q2: Do you believe you were loved? A: Very much deeply.

I suppose when you think about it, trying to beat the devil out of someone is mercy.

But, you can't really do anything about it if someone does want the devil.

Jupiter: It's wrong to want such a thing, you know that, don't you? So don't do it. I still know that much.

In each color ending, the devil gets destroyed. The devil only getting one moment for whatever they wanted.

For revenge, for love, for "please take me back."

One Singular Moment to live as they are before having it burnt out of them.

...Someone had to have opened that door at the end of Purge March

(Milgram T1 Glitched Character Voicelines)

Amane: Ahh! I'm so sorry...! I'm sorry...! I'm sorry for breaking the rules!

Lukewarm, I Spit You Out

We have more bad kids to go through, so let's talk Neptune.

Neptune is, to be blunt, a self-proclaimed bitch. She doesn't act like she's supposed to belong her which is exactly why she belongs here. She uses profanities, sneaks alcohol into the camp, and the summary of this game calls her a mean girl. Though this meanness of hers betrays a certain amount of care and worry for her group, or, at least they like to think of it that way:

Neptune is very kind or possibly super mean and hates us. But that's okay. She's really funny.

This kindness of hers comes out in many ways. She's concerned for Jupiter, trying to get her to actually give a shit about herself, especially when she does so much work.

Neptune: I mean like, aren't you doing fine? Neptune: Aren't you trying harder than literally everyone else here? Neptune: You're so chill about everyone's bullshit it makes me so mad and then you won't extend even the slightest of that chill to yourself and that makes me EVEN SO MADDER. Neptune: Can't you just be a little less…good?

And wants Venus to get out of his egg, to let himself be a bit of a bitch, and stop apologizing for himself when he is doing nothing wrong.

Neptune: Wait, I got it. I dare you to not say sorry for the rest of the night. Jupiter: Oh my god. Venus: I can do that! Jupiter: …can he though? Neptune: No it's perfect. Neptune: It'll fix something annoying, and this will make everyone's life easier, and all of us win. Venus: Is it really annoying? Neptune: You shouldn't have to apologize for things you don't need to apologize for.

Neptune deeply cares about the people around her, it just comes out as harsh words and actions. She wants to make Jupiter's life a living hell so that she's forced to say that it hurts.

Neptune: People are supposed to get hurt by things. It's fucked up to not. It's not good for you.

Though, as Venus calls out, the way Neptune acts doesn't fully come from self-confidence.

Venus: ...your problem Neptune is. Venus: You think being mean is more honest. Venus: But you're just as bad as Jupiter. Venus: And me.

Neptune, like the other two, deeply hates herself. Like Jupiter she has a consistent "tell" that shows she's the devil. She throws up this black ichor-like substance. Poison really. The only thing she can say. She's a bad kid through and through.

Now, Amane is self-proclaimed annoying.

Es: Regardless of whether you’re a child or an adult… you are beyond annoying. Amane: Oh, my. I am honored by your praise. Es: As I said. Amane: (giggles)

She takes Real Pride in being, a little shit to people.

20/06/03

Fuuta: ……huh? What’s your problem? You’re just leaving all your meat? What a weird kid. Amane: You say that, but you’re not eating all of your food either. ……are you not able to eat your vegetables? Even though you’re an adult. Fuuta: Huh, what, so you’re just eating grass? What are you, a rabbit or something? Since you’re just a brat, you should be eating your meat properly. You won’t grow if you don’t. Amane: ……you make some really funny jokes, don’t you, Fuuta-san.

This behavior is mostly present in T1, mostly cause T1 is Amane's testing period. She's trying to see what she can get away with. These behaviors disappearing by T2 because she learns that she can't get away with much. Introducing us to a less playful, more angry and genuinely despairing Amane. (Of Blessedness and Punishment)

Amane: This is unforgivable! I won’t forgive you! (screams)

That isn't to say Amane doesn't genuinely want to help out though, even with her more aggressive attitude. In fact she goes out of her way to "help" Fuuta and responds to Yuno's questions and worries honestly and patiently.

(23/06/27, Amane’s Birthday)

Yuno: By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So I kinda wondered if you thought like that. Amane: ……I don’t think that. Being born into this world is the first miracle any person experiences, and is something to celebrate. Even if after birth I was put through trial after trial, the value of that will never disappear.

Amane is kind, genuinely so. She helps the cat, she tries her best to "guide" people back to the better path. The problem is, is that her want to help gets tied up in her community and her worldview. Causing more harm than she would like, it's almost like she can only spit out doctrine when that isn't the case.

Amane: Hm. Is that so? Are the prisoners who weren’t forgiven feeling lost right now? Maybe they need our faith as well.

Outside of that, Amane is rather opinionated, she tries to keep it down but it seeps out anyway. She's expressed numerous times her frustration with being treated like a child (ie: being treated like she has no rights of her own.) And expresses that openly and bluntly.

(20/06/13)

Shidou: I…… I just don’t understand. If everything about MILGRAM is true…… why did a child like you have to become a murderer? Just imagining what sort of circumstances must have led to that, it makes me so sad…… Amane: ……*sigh*. Is that right. I don’t think I’m going to get along with you, Shidou-san.I don’t agree with the fact you refuse to acknowledge that I have my own free will, and that I should be held accountable for my actions, just because I’m a child. I may have only been alive for 12 years, but all the choices I’ve made, even if they weren’t the best ones, were entirely my own. What point is there in you getting sad when I have no regrets myself?

It's easy to call her annoying or petulant for this, especially when Shidou (seemingly) is just concerned for how how a child is in prison of murders. And again she Does act annoying on purpose.

But Shidou is being actively patronizing and forcing his view of Amane Onto her. When Amane rebukes this, instead of apologizing or reevaluating he dismisses what she says. Something that deeply frustrates her.

Neptune: I'm an evil bad slut right? I'm a bitch and a flirt. Neptune: I'm a bitch because I let people know when they walk over me. Neptune: I'm a flirt because boys keep talking at me. Neptune: And this is somehow my problem, because they can't get over themselves and leave me alone? Neptune: How is that fair? Why should I get hurt by that? It makes me so mad! Neptune: Why would I be anything but MAD about all this stupid obnoxious BULLSHIT.

You’re sorry? I don’t care! Please, go ahead and die already Remember MY cries, MY repents, MY words of “I’m sorry” that I said to you?

Amane cares a lot about being treated Properly, about the people around her being treated Properly. She can't really...accept injustice. She broke one of her cult's doctrines because she wanted wrap up what was probably a Small Wound at worst judging by the state of the cat. She's not going to waver just because the people around her believe otherwise.

Amane: ……I’m fine. I don’t know what you’ve done or what it is you’re worried about, but I think if there’s something you believe in, you should stay true to it. It’s not something that should waver just because other people said something. I personally don’t plan on changing my own beliefs even if I’m told I’m wrong either……

Amane believes in the idea that people can get better, and wants to see people get better even if she can't. She's going to help even if she has to be Violent to do so.

Neptune: You asked me to come out. So I'm coming out. The door opens and it's her but it's not her She grabs Venus and crushes him against the wall like he's a little doll.

Amane: Don’t you think it’s a good opportunity to be reborn? If, right now, you could shake off those around you trying to drag you down to depravity, and could change––

When Neptune's the devil she forcibly tries to turn the other two kids into the devil alongside with her. She knows this whole situation is a nightmare and wants to force the two into accepting who they really are, even if it meant hurting them.

Why should they be the ones to suffer when their trying so hard to be good? Why should they be suffering when they already ARE good?

Neptune: Doesn't it feel unfair? You're already good, so why do you have to try so hard to be good? It makes me mad. They want you to prove you're good. But you're already so good. What is that? Why do they do that?

We must not give into them, they are the ones that should be judged

Why does She need to prove that she's righteous when the people around her can break the same rules she does and get away with no consequences?

I don’t need it any more, if you’re going to break your vow Here and now, it’s my turn to tear you apart

It's just so Unfair. Why is she the one getting hurt for no good reason? Why was the cat the one who got hurt for something that wasn't even its fault? It's just not right. None of this is right.

Neptune: Does that kid look happy to you? Well I guess we have different opinions and you will have to stop me from making him into what he is trying very hard not to be.

Help Me God, I'm In Love

We have one more kid to go through.

Venus is known for being very much a doormat, and very easy to push around. A small detail when their sitting down to listen to the Bonfire Captain's story is that Venus tries his best not to take up space.

Venus sits with his legs crossed, taking up as little space as he can, which is at most not very much.

And As mentioned before he constantly apologizes for himself, even when it isn't even his fault. That dare Neptune gives him? He immdieatly fails it, the sorry is an instinct, he does it automatically.

Though even then, Venus is known to be...a bit of a little shit. Maybe even quite Mean. He has a bite to his words and can be extremely judgemental. Not that he seems to notice .

Jupiter: Do you think he notices how much of a jerk he is sometimes? Neptune: I wish.

Amane: An arts university, though…… Does that mean you’re good at drawing, then? It may be a bit rude to say, but that’s rather unexpected.

(I Love how Amane implies that she thought Mikoto was too boring to be an artist. Incredible.)

Not only that but he's strongly opinionated, often surprising the people around him with them and how pointed and critical he can be. The people around him being so used to how shy and docile he seems.

Jupiter: Why not you. You're safe. You're like a puppy. You're harmless. Venus: …did you lose your nerve? Jupiter: Except when you talk.

He doesn't mean to be mean on purpose, he doesn't even like being mean, but it just comes out of him. He can't stop himself. He's so angry and bitter about certain things that his real feelings bleed out of him.

Neptune: Wow Venus I'm ALMOST impressed. Neptune: You are, deep down, kind of a little shit. Venus: I didn't mean it in a mean way. I wasn't teasing. Neptune: That's so much worse, Venus. Venus: I guess I just don't get it? Venus: I don't like being mean and I don't want to be mean so I try really hard not to be mean. Venus: I don't get any of the 'just kidding' because it's not just kidding.

But Venus is easy to pick on, he smiles weirdly, he tries his best to avoid causing too much conflict, and the idea that Venus is "not like the other boys" get floated around pretty early depending on what interactions you chose, and Jupiter and Neptune discuss this their 10AM interaction:

Neptune: Are you seriously worried about him? Jupiter: Maybe. A little. Jupiter: He's weird. Not in a bad way, necessarily? Jupiter: But maybe in a bad way, possibly. Jupiter: Sometimes I don't even know what he is.

Jackalope: That isn’t even really Amane Momose anymore. You’ve awakened something much bigger.

There's something....different about Venus, like Jupiter and Neptune before him. Everyone can tell, and thus treats him differently for it but he's just not exactly sure what that...Is.

And it's so Frustrating.

Venus: …I don't know what's wrong with me.

Venus: But I can't. Not when it comes to this. Jupiter: What is "this"? Venus: Whatever they want out of me that's not fixing radios. Venus: To be tougher? To grow up? To-what's that?

He's jealous, so deeply jealous of Jupiter and Neptune and he doesn't even know why.

Venus: I'm mad about a lot of things I guess. Jupiter: Liar Jupiter: You're not mad. Jupiter: You're jealous. Jupiter: Why are you so jealous. Jupiter: It's flattering. But it's weird. Venus: I don't know.

Muu: ……hey, are you listening to me? What are you staring at……? Amane: I’m not staring at anything. Muu: Liar, you definitely are……

Amane: ……cake……

He wants...something from them, he doesn't know what but it's something important to him. Something that would make him feel like he's himself and not...whatever he is. It's not even like he necessarily minds being different. He doesn't even think he can be anything else.

Venus: I know I'm bad at getting anyone to like me and I'm weird and everyone else can deal even though I can't, but I can't. Venus: I'm just going to be like this. I'm not going to be any different. Jupiter: You're asking to get beat up. Venus: I don't care.

T2Q20: How do you feel about you not being like everyone else? A: Nevertheless I was born as myself, so I'm happy.

This deep want appears in Everything he does. Everything he does is to somehow get that Thing he Wants the Most. He can attribute it to something else but everyone can tell he wants Something.

Neptune: Venus, your problem is that you are very nice. But you want something. And you think being nice is going to give it to you. But it never will. And until you figure out what it is you want. Every kindness of yours will be full of that want.

Amane: Ah, I am looking forward to it! Seeing whether your judgement will align with that of these higher standards! If that is the case, maybe Milgram would be the right world for us to live in, rather than the outside world!

Milgram relies on your judgement, isn’t that right? In that case, you could become the mediator for a far more righteous world!!

That isn't to say he Isn't afraid of being found out. Of having the kind of person he is being revealed. In a game of truth or dare he chooses dare because:

Venus: I mean, it's kinda like Jupiter said? Truth is embarrassing and dares could get you hurt. Getting hurt is way less scary.

But then the contradiction of this gets pointed out to him, people can be embarrassing with dares as well. It's easy to hurt and embarrass someone.

I've already mentioned that Amane hides...a lot, she tends to talk around things and use double meanings and what not. But she also doesn't want to seem frivolous or wasteful. She wants to stay seeming mature and smart and pure. Being immature is dangerous to her, another reason for people to view her as useless and weak. Another reason to get hurt.

She isn't that. She can prove it. She's not greedy or materialistic.

Venus: I don't want to be strong. I don't want to be that sort of person at all.

She doesn't want anything.

Venus: I want them within me and without me. All through and about me. I want feathers in my lungs and eyes on my skin. I want my heart to see and my lungs to fly.

Nothing at all.

T1Q17: What would you do if the world ends tomorrow? If everything ends? Then, I might do all sorts of things I have never done before.

This is when I reveal Venus is Trans.

Venus is Trans! She uses She/Her, I've been using He/Him for her previously to reveal she's trans like how the VN reveals she's trans.

Venus wants to reveal the truth, to be seen as she is, to have:

That wing to see the truth and that eye to lay it bare.

She wants to be honest and live as herself. To really Be Her. When she becomes the devil she says it's nobody's fault but hers. She wants this. She wants this so much.

She's not doing it cause she was forced or coerced she did it cause she Wanted To. She wanted to do it so badly. She does it with such glee it's honestly terrifying. She killed out of hate and duty and Enjoyed It.

The devil is lonely. We kicked out the devil and it must miss us. It keeps begging to be let back, to let it in.

And Amane Did.

Smoke and Honey

Amane Momose is undeniably monster-coded.

Jackalope: That isn’t even really Amane Momose anymore. You’ve awakened something much bigger.

Amane: Right now, I am both Amane Momose and I am not. I am speaking on behalf of our faith.

Amane: Yes. It is only natural for a person(/human) to apologize to another for breaking a promise. Es: … Amane: Why are you looking so doubtful? Are you not human?

This happy pinky promise hurts to break

There's so much to discuss that if I did do it in detail we would get so set off track very badly, but Amane Momose is Other. She's the Other, she's not human. She's never Been Human. Atleast not by the standards of her cult.

In the Milgram Cat Symbolism, Cats has been highly associated with sin. Yuno portrays her cat self as the most honest but also sinful version of herself. Kazui does the same. Amane being the cat, implicates her as a sinful force in the world. Something dangerous and terrifying that needs to be destroyed.

Amane Momose, somehow, is a threat to normal human existence (at least in the existence of the cult.) She's too opinionated, too dedicated, too Bad of a kid. Having her exist at all as she is, is a threat. She doesn't Want to stop being herself, she's supposed to want to stop. Humans aren't supposed to act like she acts. What if that stubbornness was directed at something against the cult?

Adults also hate perfect kids who love the world so much they can't stop themselves from saving it.

We Need to Destory The Devil No Matter What or Who it is. To choose someone to act as the scapegoat, the worst girl, the one kid too weird, too strange, too threatening.

What does Amane do? She's already a liability, just a child, useless and unhelpful. What if she was destructive? Better to teach her now to be better, right?

It's not like she isn't destructive, it's true. She does harm. Horrible harm actually. I completely understand wanting to restrain her for those reasons.

But, she had One Moment, and it was ripped away from her.

Jupiter: If I taste what it's like, I know, there's no way I'll be happy being human ever again.

I Wonder what else is left for her now.

#milgram #cw child abuse #amane momose #cw cults #milgram analysis #milgram meta #it is MIDNIGHT #I wrote this in Two Days and Two Long Sessions #Im telling you guys this VN is important reading for Amane Momose purposes #I also dont know how to beta read theres probably a quadrillion mistakes

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calronhunt · 3 months

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Saw your answer regarding the inspiration to WAC, it's really interesting! I don't know the media in question, but I love hearing what inspires people. Are there any other tidbits regarding what inspires you that you'd like to share? For any of your stories! Is music something that inspires you a lot? Sorry for the weird rambly message, inspiration is just. Really cool to me :)

Thank you very much! You've given me the chance to ramble on extensively and i will make you regret that. and It's funny that You ask that bc I made this a while ago for inspirations for Crushed Olive Branch!

Inspirations are sometimes hard for me to pinpoint bc a lot of the time it's unconcious or like "i like this thing and i think it would be neat to incorporate into xyz story." Like tbh, In above, I don't think Always Raining Here or In Other Lands had an ACTIVE inspiration to anything in COB, but the vibes are definitely there. I would say the MAIN inspiration for Crushed Olive Branch is Queen of Air and Darkness+real life events that happen in my life.

and this is entirely the art direction of COB, but the reason it's only flat colored with lined bgs is because of Cassandra Jean's art! (She does the artwork for the official Shadowhunters Graphic Novels so it felt appropriate+she's just a massive art inspiration for me in general) I'm definitely not as good as her, but I hope the vibes come across at least somewhat lol!!

OTHERWISE for general inspiration for all my stories, i fall back on Revolutionary Girl Utena and Berserk. Both are pieces of media that i love dearly dearly and have inspired me, my writing, and what I want my writing to be. COB def has more Utena inspirations whereas WAC has way more Berserk inspirations. Lain is so Guts coded it's crazy, and I straight up basically stole a good portion of Juri's schtick from Utena for Nerissa.

The other big inspiration is just....my personal experiences. COB was written in the middle of a bad situation, and it's only years later that I realize that I had written a lot of That into the story subconsciously. Almost every single character of mine has some part of Me or someone I know inside of them, whether that be consciously or not.

ALSO TO FINALLY GET TO YOUR QUESTION ABOUT MUSIC, Songs used to help me figure out plot points in my stories, but not all that much anymore. Nowadays I usually come across a song and go "oh this fits blorbo from my mind" instead of "oh i WANT this to fit blorbo of my mind." however it does say on the cob inspiration that you belong with me inspired mattias' whole deal so it def still happens! just not quite as much as it used to. It usually helps me figure out a character's general Vibe and Not their character arc or a plot point or something! It's a good jumping off point for me!

#ask #i could def go into inspiration depth for other stories but i kept it to current comics #i think. about cob all the time

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seventeenlovesthree · 2 years

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How Byler reminds me of Taishirou

I actually didn't ship any ship in Stranger Things prior to season 4, as all the couple related drama in season 3 was definitely not for me and I also hadn't been aware of all the subtext. Upon watching season 4 and falling down several meta rabbit holes, the cute Byler AMV I had watched a year ago or so suddenly made a whole lot of sense - and, looking at my shipping preferences, it does surprise me that I hadn't fallen for it sooner.

Long story short, in their essence, they remind me of Taishirou - I know, I know, please don’t throw rocks at me yet, I do compare them to a lot of other ships, but hear me out. Obviously, they are NOT the exact same characters, but the way they became friends, adore and admire each other and grow up to have severe communication issues are somewhat interesting parallels. At least to me, so I'm gonna try to explain it a bit.

Things Mike and Taichi have in common:

The first thing that comes to mind is how they start their respective stories with (perceived) main character status, driving things forward, showing courage and ambition while doing so (finding Will vs. leading the Chosen Children).

Interestingly enough, their associated worn colour is "blue". Also: Layered clothing.

One of my favourite comparisons is their abilty to turn into grumpy cats when things don't go their way - especially when they struggle to reach certain people on the phone.

Having very caring moms (even if they can’t really open up to them about their “secrets”), a little sister and a dad who’s more in the back (though Taichi obviously doesn’t have a big sister).

Both of them have a talent in getting girls mad at them (El vs. Sora), mostly due to poor word choices. They’re actually both hopeless nuts in that regard with 02!Taichi being the only exception.

Lots and lots of hair.

Growing self esteem issues for various reasons, as Mike considers himself just “lucky” to have found El and not being good enough for her. Additionally, he’s seen afraid of losing her just as much as fearing to lose Will in season 1 and 2; whereas Taichi struggles with his sense of recklessness, fearing to hurt and (also!) lose the ones he loves; both of them are pretty much unable to face these things for quite a while, causing a drift towards their best friends...

Things they don't have in common:

While Taichi is not your typical "nerd", he can still be quite a dork, despite being very sporty - whereas Mike struggles to even run in a straight line.

Taichi trying hard to pursue a girlfriend is mainly a thing that happens in fanon, but not in canon.

Things Will and Koushirou have in common:

They are (at least starting off as) being quite short - which has some impact on Mike and Taichi respectively being protective of them.

Their associated colours may not be the same, but “yellow” and “orange” are quite close after all. Additionally, "Will the Wise" (= knowledgable) has a “purple” colour scheme (which is Koushirou’s signature colour). Also: Collar shirts!

Both are being bullied at school early on for being “different” (which is only implied for Koushirou in the novel, as his classmates are making fun of his laptop or considering him “hard to get along with”).

While their family situations are very different, it does have impact on their self esteem in some ways (having an abusive dad vs. being adopted and not knowing his whereabouts). Despite that, they are dearly loved by their closest ones (mom and brother vs. adoptive parents), even if they can't fully open up to them (yet).

Humble ("Are you okay?" after waking up from being possessed towards his big brother’s injured hand vs. "I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill your expectations" after having figured out how to get the group back into their own world), but can be snarky if necessary (”Friends, what friends?” vs. “How did you ever guess?”).

Also surprisingly emotional about things/people who matter to them (especially when they feel rejected by them)...

Questionable haircut choices.

Can get very focused on/invested in their special interests (art vs. computers/problem solving) while not noticing their surroundings.

Both are getting panicky over girls - in somewhat different contexts though.

Quite perceptive towards certain things ("feeling" Vecna vs. feeling that something about the Digital World is "off"), even if that definitely isn’t their strongest comparison, see below.

Things they don't have in common:

They're different kinds of "nerds", artistic (+ D’n’D) nerd/genius vs. computer/science nerd/genius.

Unless we’re talking about Reboot!Koushirou, despite both of them having underlying self-esteem issues, Koushirou’s “otherness” doesn’t seem to bother him too much (as his self-esteem issues are rather resulting from him not not knowing where he comes from at first and then later whenever he is unable to function without his “knowledge”).

The whole deal about Will “getting possessed” and being “perceptive of some otherworldly (and/or dark) being” would actually be more fitting for Hikari, but for comparison’s sake... Let’s stick with what we have, shall we. Koushirou DOES have a strong intuition when something’s up after all.

How Byler reminds me of Taishirou:

The way they became friends is not exactly the same, but has similar implications - Mike saw Will on a swing in kindergarden and asked him to become his friend, which, in his own words, was “the best thing I ever did”. Whereas Koushirou joined the football club at their shared school, Taichi immediately took him under his wing as an upperclassman, making him “one of the few exceptions”, according to the novel. And without Taichi, Koushirou would “never have gone to Summer Camp”. The rest is history.

Hands on shoulders. Lots and lots of hands on shoulders. Also the (decreasing) height difference, of course.

My favourite comparison about them is their deep-rooted loyalty towards one another - even if Byler is definitely more vocal about it (”Crazy together?” - “Crazy together”, as Mike’s entire objective in the first season was to find Will), Taishirou are definitely devoted to one another as well (”I have believed in Taichi-san from the very beginning”).

The thing that actually sold me on the comparison was their growing communication issues though; Season 3!Byler is shown to be on bad terms, as Mike is trying very hard to outgrow his nerdy tendencies to impress El, whereas Will is craving for the old D’n’D days with his best friend - the most common fan theory here is that Mike is trying very hard to cover up his true feelings. Season 4 makes that even more apparent by having them “fight” over not having been in touch for 6 months. Taishirou are not explicitly drifting apart, but Taichi is pretty much implied to be drifting away from everyone and, according to the stageplay, lost sight of himself, without being able to confide in his best friend (and Koushirou has been vocal about being mad at Taichi for dealing with things by himself very early on).

Despite that, the devotion is still there - as mentioned above, Koushirou always believed in Taichi being “their leader” and Will always believed in Mike to be “the heart”. Will giving Mike his painting (which he specifically made for him) in season 4, reassuring him in his strengths, is basically synonymous with Stageplay!Koushirou giving Taichi his goggles (which he specifically made for him), and thus giving him his courage back as well. And in the end... They’ll always have each others backs if they manage to open up to one another.

Long story short, if Byler becomes canon in season 5, I will cherish this even more. One could also say... There’d be stranger things than that.

#taishirou #taishiro #byler #meta #my two cents #personal #i probably could have found more comparisons and pictures but i'm tired

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pielplastica · 2 months

Text

M, there's nothing to be sorry for. I know it must've been hard for you at that moment and I'm sorry I put you into that situation, but I'm glad you got the courage to write about it. Thank you for your honesty.

I thought that if I ever was to hear or read a "big truth" from you, I was going to feel so mixed with my emotions. But time heals almost anything, and I'm sure that the boy you met back then would've reacted differently but now, the man I am, I feel at peace with that.

I'm shaking a little bit, I'm not going to lie. But I'm not angry, I am not in shock. I truly feel happy that you opened up your heart to me one last time. I said it once and I'll say it again: I always felt the worse not because I lost my girlfriend but because I lost my best friend. And now, you writing about this, I feel that I am finally speaking with an old friend who I am glad is still alive and fighting to do better.

I just want you to be 100% sure that you do not have to be sorry or apologize for it. I get it. I don't blame you and actually I am happy that it was him, a friend you already knew and not some random person who could hurt you. I am just glad you are with someone who values you.

I am lost for words, and I think this is maybe what I needed to read for me to be able to move on. Don't get me wrong, I am happy that you did because I know it will take a lot off your back and chest, but now I understand it. I understand we were meant to be just a learning experience. I wasn't meant to be your "forever", he was. It's almost like a novel: falling in love with the "boy of your dreams" only to realize he was already there.

I am not heartbroken, just a little jelous he got to play that role and not me. "I heard that you're happy without me and I hope its true, it kills me a little but that's ok 'cause I'd die for you".

I know this is something big to admit, but I trust that you're doing so not to seek forgiveness but inner peace, and I hope you're at peace. And, for what it's worth: I forgive you.

There's this big two thoughts in my head right now: that I am grateful that you spoke your truth and hope that gets you the feel that you deserve, and the realization that I am getting in the way of two people who love each other. And I am sorry.

Last Anatomy class I was speaking with my teacher about why I wasn't going to school and a girl came up saying that she had to speak with him about something private. She just came up and interrupted the conversation he and I were having, but I knew that it had to be urgent. She apologized and I let her know that it was ok, so I just took a seat so that she could tell him whatever it was. When she was gone, I went to him again and he said that I did right by allowing her to speak with him and putting another person's urgencies above mine. And I guess this is the kind of situation where I should do the same.

But one last thing before I go: thank you, M, for your honesty. I hope you'll love him dearly and keep him close to your heart, I know he'll do the same.

See you cowgirl, someday, somewhere!

#letting go

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very-grownup · 11 months

Text

Book 35, 2023

It's not my go-to genre, but reading "The Girl on the Train" I can see how mystery buffs would get annoyed at the intermingling of soapy thrillers with their detective fiction.

I didn't pick up Paula Hawkins' debut novel for myself. It was one of many cheap paperbacks I picked up from the used bookstore at the end of 2018 where I wasn't really looking for quality, I was looking for mysteries that were thin enough or well-worn enough that they'd be easy to hold and easy to follow for my mother. She was in the end stage of colon cancer and chemo and her illness combined to really destroy her fine motor control, the strength in her arms, the length of time she could stay awake, and her general ability to focus. I was just desperate to find something that might give her a bit of distraction. "The Girl on the Train" was one of those books (so was a Murder She Wrote tie-in novel). I don't think she read it. I hope she didn't because it's not really a mystery novel.

After she died, my father went through a period of just leaving bags of her things in my house, without warning or explanation. Once it was a bag of assorted books, including "The Girl on the Train" (but not the Murder She Wrote novel). Eventually, they were taken from their bag in my guest room and put on my bookshelves. Leaving these books that had been in my mother's possession, even if they were used, unread seemed wrong and wasteful. So I read "The Girl on the Train" and it will not be returning to my bookshelf because it is not a keeper.

I've become like those recipe bloggers who give you paragraphs of backstory no one will read that have nothing to do with what they're ostensibly presenting, but for books.

The dearly departed and much loved podcast "I Don't Even Own a Television" read several books that they talked about feeling less like novels and more like a movie script or television show reworked to press into a novel, or a novel written for the purpose of being optioned. "The Girl on the Train" feels like one of those, despite multiple points of view approaching a point of revelation several months apart.

"The Girl on the Train" is a murder mystery, inasmuch as a woman dies mysteriously and another character is trying to figure out whodunnit. But having the main character in your mystery-adjacent novel being an unreliable narrator and immediately establishing that she is an unreliable narrator and she knows it defeats the purpose of an unreliable narrator in a proper mystery novel. It makes the mystery element a muddle narratively, but not from a mystery solving angle.

There are only four named characters who aren't point of view characters.

Hawkins is clearly more interested in the thriller aspect, with our protagonist's uncertainty in what happened and what she knows and how she might be involved intersecting with her depression, alcoholism, and general deteriorating mental state since her divorce and a general poor understanding of personal boundaries. Which is ... fine. It's fine.

But the reason GASLIGHT works is because it begins by establishing a safe and happy normalcy.

There's an interesting premise here, a take on "Rear Window" that gets lost in the soapy drama of the dead woman's life and the protagonist's life and a misguided, poorly attempted twist setup.

Every character except the One (1) person of colour have the most generic, interchangeable white names possible, the sort where I kept having to check which of the two shitty white men were which. One of them was a Tom.

I think.

I hope you didn't read this, Mum. You wouldn't have liked it and it's not really a mystery novel. If you did: I'm sorry.

#2023 books #the girl on the train #paula hawkins #cw: cancer #cw: parental death

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

Text

Yandere Brahms Heelshire (2/5)

Word count ; 4.0k

Songs : Cries in Vain

*Edited:3

Bring… Bring…

From beside me, the phone suddenly started up. Who’s calling this late in the evening? It was already eight p.m. I sighed, setting my bookmark in the almost completed sci-fi novel.

I rolled to the other side of the bed, accidentally squishing Brahms into me, and lifted up the old-fashioned device. “Hullo?” I greeted in annoyance.

“Oh my god, bitch.”

“Ryleigh? Oh my god! Thank god you called, there’s no signal or WIFI or anything out here so my cell phone doesn’t work!” I exclaimed, fully scrambling to the phone.

“Girl, I’ve been spamming you like crazy! And who the hell wouldn’t have WIFI these days, are you good?” she complained.

“I know right? Dude, this place is crazy, but in the tamest way possible - god, I really need to catch you up. Also, I love you and miss you dearly, you should definitely come the hell over here for vacay.”

“Woah, woah, unlike you, I’m a sane person who doesn’t bunk in a stranger’s house in a completely new country. But… I could be swayed. Anyways, tell me the tea.”

“Well, I’m doing a job for potential crazy people. I’m… babysitting a doll. I think they’re still grieving the death of their kid, because Brahms definitely existed at some point. But these people are super old.”

“Seriously? Makes sense they don’t have WIFI if they’re crazy old people.”

“Yep. Checks out. On the plus side, I’m babysitting a doll and I’m living in a house that’s the size of a castle. I’ve been in at least ten rooms, but there’s four floors, and if there’s about six rooms down each hallway… Hell, there could be up to fifty rooms. It’s insane, one of these days I gotta go exploring.”

“Fucking definitely. Maybe it’s one of those old houses that has secret passage ways in the closets,” she agreed.

“Mhm, exactly. And besides this, I’m really able to just… relax and work on myself. I’ve gotten back into jogging and eating healthy. I have so much time to do self-care. I used to describe myself as a people person, but it’s so great to be by myself t.b.h.”

“I get that. I know I usually don’t talk seriously, but I was worried. Especially with all the problems Jason caused. That guy’s psycho and your mental health was destroyed from that. I’m proud of you for making the right decision.”

“Thanks, babe. So, what’s been going on back home?”

“T.b.h., I should definitely take the same path you did. There’s still no work available in this town, and my part-time job won’t take me back,” Ryleigh fussed. “Oh, b.t.w, people are missing you. I keep telling friends you went abroad and they congratulated you. And were you serious about vacay-ing to England? ‘Cause I’m totally down for that.”

“You’re always welcome. I don’t know when they’re coming back, but in a mansion, it’ll be easy for you to sneak around once they come back.”

“If they’re so rich, there’s gotta be some hella good wine, right?” she inquired. “All rich snobs have that.”

“No, sorry, I tossed it all out. You know I’m trying to sober up. No beer, no wine, no coke - nothing,” I replied, sitting up and pulling Brahms to my chest.

“Aw, man. Oh - I forgot to tell you the most important part of the day, although I��m not sure you want to hear it,” she chuckled nervously.

“Oh, god. Spill.”

“Well, uh, the other day I had to call the police because a certain dickwad broke into my apartment,” she started.

“Oh my god. Oh, my god. I’m so, so sorry —“

“Girl! No! Shut the fuck up, no. Anyways, let me continue. After a thorough investigation of my house, I don’t think he found what he was looking for. And he definitely had at least a few days in prison - that is, if his rich bitch parents don’t bail him out again.”

“Holy shit. Ryleigh, I’m sorry he’s harassing you again,” I apologized, trying to hold in the tears.

“No way are you apologizing. This isn’t your fault. At all. Jason’s insane. He’s a bad person. You don’t deserve this and neither do I, but eventually he’ll let up. And besides, he can’t find you and I’m definitely gonna kick his ass the next time he shows his face.”

“That town ain’t big enough for the both of you, huh?” I giggled, already sufficiently comforted by my best friend.

“Exactly! See, you get it. Hey, do you have a pen?”

“Yeah,” I said, reaching over and tearing a piece of a page out. Sorry, book.

“My number is - ***-****-****.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll call you tomorrow night, aight? You called me right as I was winding down for the night.”

“You’re kidding! Isn’t it only eight or something?”

“Yeah, I know, but I’ve really managed my sleep schedule the past few days.”

“I applaud you for your efforts. Call me in the morning for you because no way in hell am I waking up this early again. Like, I love you, but mornings are ew.”

“Got it. But won’t you already be drunk by five?”

“Ha-ha. Very funny. Love you, bye bitch.”

“Bye bitch, love you too.”

I hung up and set the phone down. If there was anything I missed currently other than the occasional urge was my best friend. But it was worrisome. Hopefully… No, Jason wasn’t going to find me. Things were fine.

“And, on this note, Brahms, I’m hella tired, my tiny porcelain dude. Time to hit the hay while my stalker is potentially on the way.”

~~~

Make the bed, check. Brush my teeth, check. Kiss the cute doll good morning, check. So, having completed my morning rituals, I picked up Brahms and opened my bedroom door. Why I felt the need to close it in the first place, I had no clue.

I opened the door, but I was surprised when a paper fluttered across the floor. “Huh?” I crouched down, picking up the yellow sheet. My heart raced as I recognized the cursive writing —

Brahms’ rule sheet.

I gulped and decided to observe my surroundings. Brahms’ room was across from mine. The door was wide open. There must’ve been a consistent draft last night… Yes, that made sense.

I grabbed the paper and balled it up in my fists. That paper seriously pissed me off for giving me such a fright. I tossed it into the room and shut the door.

“Man, Brahms, that scared the hell out of me. For a second, I lived in a world where you were haunted,” I tittered. “Anyways - time to fix the trauma with some toast.”

I evacuated the hallway and raced to the kitchen. I was in my yoga pants and crop top, as I was probably going to go for a run soon. Nothing was more refreshing than being covered head to toe in sweat and barely being able to walk, you know?

So, I spent my morning productively. I finished showering just around lunch time and went to the kitchen, where I’d left Brahms sitting in one of the high seats. I should make a tuna Sala sandwich for lunch —

“Ah, Miss Y/n, I was wondering where you were!”

I screamed when, upon entering the kitchen, Malcolm made an appearance. The kitchen was probably stocked up, but for the second time, the man had scared the hell out of me - and it was unwelcome after the incident that morning.

“Malcolm! We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I exclaimed, glaring playfully when he keeled over laughing.

“And you’ve got to be more on guard, Miss Y/n,” he managed out. “I do make my rounds every weekend, after all.”

I huffed. “Touche.” I leaned against the counter. “Sticking around for lunch? I do make a mean sandwich.”

“Well, not to be a free-loader, but I figured you could use some company. Plus, I’m sure you have a lot of questions, since I know the… doll situation is odd,” he accepted.

I got to work, taking out a bowl and the necessary ingredients. “Well, it’s not really any of my business. All I needed to know is that Brahms is a great teddy bear.”

“Really now?” he snickered. “The doll tends to creep me out, but to each their own.”

“I like dolls. I know people usually think that because they’re human-like they’re creepy, but I find comfort in a mini-human friend,” I giggled. I dumped tuna, cheese, and mayonnaise into the bowl, stirring. “How’s your week been?”

“As good as any. If you couldn’t tell, except for this part of my job, working at a store’s pretty boring. This is the most interesting part of my week - not to mention, I’m talking to a pretty girl.”

“Smooth,” I tutted, poking his chest teasingly. Malcolm was a fairly attractive man, I acknowledged that. But I wasn’t planning to make any moves until I thoroughly got to know him. I felt too hollow from all the friends with benefits I had, and not to mention my experience with Jason. So this time, I wanted to enter a real, good, serious relationship. “Can you get out some bread and plates? We can boil some vegetables, if you’d like.”

“Only sandwiches for now.” He did as asked, so I spread the mixture on some bread and formed the sandwiches. I finished my work with a satisfied sigh, quick to take a bite. “My my, manners, we should sit down first.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “God, that’s such a British thing to say. ‘My my! Manners!’” I imitated.

He shook his head with a grin. “You’re in a country full of us, so watch it, lady.”

“How intimidating. Anyways, aren’t my sandwiches incredible? I’d make a great housewife,” I bragged, digging into the food as I sat at the dining table.

“Don’t quite be so full of yourself, I have yet to see evidence that you can take care of Brahms, a doll,” he teased. “But yes, it’s delectable.”

“Hey now, I said ‘wife,’ not mom,” I defended with a pout. “Besides, that’s a little sexist. Maybe I don’t want kids.”

“O - Oh, I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention —“

“Calm your tits lover boy, I was just joshing you,” I reassured. “How can I not when you’ve got such a ‘delectable’ accent?”

We finished our sandwiches, and I noted that the house probably needed some general repairs, as I heard distant creeks all over the house. I collected his plates after a polite back-and-forth about doing the dishes.

“Are you planning to stick around or do you have work?” I asked, stacking the plates.

“Well, aside from the delivering groceries and eating your lunch, I was planning to ask you out. I figured you’ve been cooped up in the house enough that maybe you’d be interested in watching a movie?”

I bit my lip. A movie. Not the pub, not a club, and not a bar. What could go wrong? Malcolm was nice and I could use the excursion. “Sure, yeah. No pressure, but it’s solely depending on you for me to have a good time,” I said with a wink while heading into the kitchen.

“Well, m’lady, I’ll try not to disappoint. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

~~~

I stared at my suitcase, comparing my options. It was technically a date, so wouldn’t it be good to wear a dress? But we were still just going to see a movie, and it’s not like it was formal… I bit my lip and stared at the doll. Smiling mockingly, I held up an outfit of jeans and a t-shirt and the dress.

“Well, Brahmsy? What do ya think?” I took a second, eyes switching between the two outfits. “You’re right, jeans and shirt makes me look hot.” I laughed jovially, tossing the dress onto the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

Long story short, I had a shower. A nice, comfortable shower. Once I hopped out, I almost had a heart attack when I saw the bathroom door cracked open. Ever since the paper accident, I’d been paranoid like an idiot. I was about to get dressed she I heard a loud thud from the hallway.

“Malcolm?” I called, but there was no reply.

I wasted no time pulling on my clothes before investigating, because if I’d learned anything from horror movies, it was that dying in a towel was embarrassing.

I wrapped my hair up in the towel and sighed when another knock sounded in the hallway. “Malcolm, just give me a moment!” I shouted. I paused when I saw the bedroom door slightly cracked.

I didn’t leave the door open.

No, no, Malcolm must’ve arrived. I sighed and tossed the towel on the bed instead. I didn’t want to keep him waiting. Out of habit, I waved to the doll as I exited, having grabbed my purse.

Wait, where was my dress? God, I was such a klutz, did I take it into the bathroom? Whatever.

A creak came from the hallway. Oh. I bet Malcolm was trying to scare me. To keep the joke running, right? I clutched my purse to my side, rolling my eyes as I entered into the dimly lit hallway.

“Ha-ha, very funny, Malcolm —"

I wildly investigated my surroundings. There was no Malcolm. Was I just hearing things? I knew he had a sense of humor, but the man would never dedicate to the bit this thoroughly.

No, I knew what I heard —

Why was the room door open? Okay, I was scared. I let out a squeak and went to retrieve my little inanimate buddy. Cradling the doll in my arms, I was able to gather enough confidence to investigate further.

“Well, Brahms, looks like we’ve got a potential home invader,” I whispered. Other than being my emotional support, Brahms was a weapon; and no way in hell was I hallucinating what I heard. Someone was in the house with me.

I entered Brahms’ bedroom. I steeled myself. My eyes surveyed two potential hiding spots. Under the bed and in the closet. I stepped into the room, taking one glance around. Anxiety took over. Nope, nope, nope, I wasn’t equipped with a proper weapon. Time to escape this house.

But then something caught my eye. I couldn’t help it as my feet automatically trudged over to the bedside table. Brahms’ rules. I reached out, lifting the paper. Was that heart always scribbled on the paper? Was I simply overreacting, and it was a copy that’d always been there?

I squinted my eyes.

Oh.

Oh, no.

The paper was crumpled. No, not crumpled, un-crumpled.

This was the paper I’d thrown.

As if on cue, the bedroom door slammed shut. A scream tore at my throat, ready to dart into the corner, but I had been locked in. My brain went on autopilot and, tossing Brahms onto the bed, I rushed over to the door. I jiggled the knob in vain.

“Help! Please! Take what you want and leave!” I screamed desperately. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t see. The world was spinning around me.

I was trapped. There was someone in the house. I was in danger. Malcolm. I needed to get out, Malcolm would save me. Don’t lose your head, Y/n.

I stumbled back and fell onto the bed. Focus. Focus, Y/n. “Ceiling,” I choked out. “Ceiling, lightbulb. Lightbulb.” I felt around the bed, grasping and pulling the sheets until I felt the doll’s hands. “Doll. Brahms. Brahms. Doll. Ceiling. Lightbulb. Bed. Brahms. Brahms.” I held the porcelain child in my arms, rocking it. “It’s okay, Brahms. You’re okay. I’m… okay… Breathe, Y/n…”

I forced my eyes shut. I focused. Come on, Y/n, nothing would be solved by panicking. You were strong. You had to be. Whoever was in the house clearly wasn’t trying to hurt you. They were just trying to rob the house. That’s why they locked you in. Yes, that’s why I was locked in.

I opened my eyes and pushed Brahms off. I could do it. I sat up, getting right to work. I could try to break the window. “Brahms, keep watch,” I announced, determination in my tone. I went over to the dresser, grabbing the old toys and hurling the against the window. Every single one bounced right off, clattering on the ground. But, cracks were beginning to form, and that motivated me.

The window was small. And I was on the second story. I knew the glass would cut me, and the fall would hurt. But I had to get out. I would get out. And that’s when the miracle worker ended up right in my hands. A paper weight made of stone. I stood right in front of the window and hurled the rock at top speed.

The glass shattered. But the wood barricade was still intact. So, I raised my foot kicked clean through. Pain shot through my body as the glass cut through my jeans and stabbed into my leg.

I began pushing it out further, and every time I lost balance, it cut deeper. However, I kept pushing. Even with blood pooling at my feet. I kept pushing.

I let out a gasp of relief when it shot through. I stabilized myself. I thought things were going swimmingly, but I suddenly heard footsteps racing towards the door. Oh no. I had to move fast.

The knob was being turned. Come on, Y/n, move. I pushed the other half of my body through the window. The glass tore at my chest, my waist, everywhere. Blood and sweat was mixing together.

The door suddenly slammed open. The footsteps were approaching. With one last push, I sent myself hurling out the window, not without the twist of my foot on the way down.

I screamed.

My vocal cords were fried the whole way down. I didn’t have enough strength to coordinate my limbs, to protect my head, as I fell. All I could do was flip my body over mid-air.

“Malcolm!” I screeched.

The final thing I saw was a looming figure with short, dark hair from the second floor. And then things went black.

~~~

Laughter. Laughter was coming from the living room. My feet automatically moved towards the sound. One of the laughs, I knew like the back of my hand. But the other was unfamiliar, a high-pitched, bell-toned giggling from a woman.

Before my eyes could behold the scene, I could already smell the smoke. I entered the living room to confirm, that indeed, Jason was on the couch with a woman, smoking. They had been engrossed in a conversation, but paused when I entered the room.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” the woman grinned, winking. She was leaning on the couch, facing my boyfriend.

“Hi, who are you?” I inquired carefully. Jason had already scolded me for losing my shit last time I found strangers in the apartment. He said I was emotionally out of control. That I didn’t know how to think straight because I was jealous and insecure. So, I bit back a bitchy tone. I didn’t make assumptions.

Jason waved his hand, the smoke trailing. “Vanessa. My coworker.” He was staring intently at me. He was waiting for me to ask questions. To get upset. To make assumptions.

I wasn’t going to. Not now. I wasn’t going to… be that way. The way he said I acted. I should just focus on fixing my hangover. I could trust him. He was just trying to get a reaction. Vanessa was just a coworker.

I walked past them. Suddenly, the lights flickered. I paused. The lights flickered again, but this time, they flashed read. They kept flashing. My vision was getting blurry. I stumbled back.

The scene around me changed. I was in an empty hallway. The walls were metal. I was walking backwards, even though I was supposed to fall. I felt like I was falling.

A figure. His figure approached. With each flash, he was closer. In the cascade of red light, I saw his expression. The same expression he had when he was angry. Furrowed brows, a ferocious glare. But he always had a smirk. Not a grimace, a smirk. As if he enjoyed it when he was angry at me.

And then he was in front of me. And I fell. Back onto the metal, even if it felt like a fluffy cushion. I couldn’t feel anything. I was petrified as he loomed over me. He was a predator stalking his prey. The shadows swallowed his face, but I saw his eyes. His eyes filled to the brim with sexual intent.

I couldn’t breathe. My face was forced to the side by a slap. The slap echoed the hall. My ears were ringing. I couldn’t breathe. There was beeping in my head. I couldn’t breathe. The beeping was so loud, I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe.

I gasped and shot up, being met with an instant surge of pain through my body. Tears immediately sprung to my eyes when I felt restraints on my arms. My vision blurred and I struggled against the restraints.

Hands grabbed my body. They grabbed my arms, pushing me onto the bed. The light was dim and a person towered over me. It was him. It was him. It was him —

“Y/n, calm down, you’re safe!”

I froze upon recognizing the British accent. Malcolm. Malcolm…

I clasped his hands and intertwined my fingers with his desperately. Malcolm was here, so things were safe now. I blinked and breathed. In and out. In and out. In and out.

“Malcolm,” I whispered tediously.

I became ruefully aware that I was shaking. I took in my surroundings. The pale-tiled ceiling. The beeping from a heart rate machine, of which had spiked. The rails of a hospital bed. My leg in a cast. And best of all, Malcolm, peering down at me with nothing evil in his eyes, only concern and care.

My lips trembled and I tried not to cry again. I already embarrassed myself enough. I let go of one of his hands, clutching his other closer.

“Y/n, what happened? I drove up to the house and heard you screaming, next thing you know I found a shattered window and you. I was scared to death,” he started shakily.

“I love your accent,” I rambled. “Your accent - the best. That accent is phenomenal. I - I… There was an intruder. I was taking a shower, and then, and then, I heard something in the other room, so I checked, then I was locked in, and then, I - I needed to escape, so I tried to leave through the window, but I had to be quick because the person came in, and then I… I fell. But! But I saw him, her, whoever. They watched me as I fell. I swear it, Malcolm, someone was trying to hurt me.”

He clasped my shoulder and massaged it slightly. It calmed my nerved. “I believe you. I’ll send the police right over to investigate, okay? But you’re okay now, you just need to rest.”

I shut my eyes. “…But what if that person goes back?”

“The police will deal with it. Just rest. I’ll be right here.”

“Wh… what happened to me?”

“You have an almost broken leg and the glass cut you pretty hard. The doctors said you lucked out, since there’s no head trauma and no permanent damage,” Malcolm explained slowly.

“Oh… I’m sorry you have to deal with this, Malc —“

“Don’t apologize. Although this isn’t exactly how I thought the first date would go, the hospital is a little romantic, don’t you agree?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Didn’t think you were a sadist.”

“Only when it suits me, my dear.”

#the boy 2016 #the boy #yandere #yandere brahms #brahms the boy #brahms x you #brahms hillshire #brahms heelshire #brahms x reader #yandere horror #horror #horror movies #horror films

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Spencer’s phone buzzed in his desk drawer much to his confusion. Pretty much everyone that would be calling him was here right now.

“Dr. Reid,” he answered.

“Hey Spencer, it’s me, Y/N,” you said.

“Oh! Y/N, hi!” he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to him before slipping away to the empty break room.

“I’m really sorry to have to ask this but is there any way you could pick Jo up from school and watch her for a few hours. A student dropped a vile of dimethyl sulfoxide in the lab so I need to safely clean it up and then make sure the room gets properly ventilated. I had to cancel the rest of class so I have to clean everyone else’s lab station up too,” you explained.

“Of course, of course,” Spencer readily agreed, “I can watch her for as long as you need but I have to finish my files here so would it be okay if she came to the office just for a little so I can finish up and then I will bring her back to my apartment. I’ll text you the address.”

“Yes, that’s completely fine. Sorry for springing this on you but my babysitter is out of town and I called JJ but she is in New Orleans with Will and the kids,” Y/N apologized.

“It’s no problem. It’s actually the opposite, I am looking forward to it,” Spencer smiled as he hung up the phone.

Spencer knocked on Hotch’s door hesitantly.

“Reid, what can I do for you?” Hotch looked up from the mounds of files on his desk.

“So I kind of have a kid and her mom needs me to pick her up from school and watch her so could she come here until I finish my work?” Spencer quickly rambled.

“You kind of have a kid?” Hotch asked, slightly amused.

“Well, she’s mine but she doesn’t know that I am her father and I just found out about her a week ago,” Spencer explained.

“If I wasn’t a profiler, I would think you were pranking me but you seem to be telling the truth. Yes, your kid can hang out until you finish your work for the day. Normally, I would just let you go early but you know Strauss has been inspecting the BAU with a fine-tooth comb recently,” Hotch stated.

“Thanks, Hotch. I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” Spencer ran out the door.

As Spencer slid on his satchel and was walking towards the elevators, he turned around and sighed. He almost forgot to tell the team.

“Hey guys! Quick announcement! I have a kid and her mom needs me to watch her for a few hours so she’s coming here. However, she doesn’t know that I’m her father so please use your discretion,” Spencer finished and bolted for the stairs.

“Kid, what-” Morgan started to say but the glass doors were already closing behind him.

Spencer didn’t have the time nor desire to fill them in on all of the details. He didn’t want to keep his daughter waiting.

“SPENCER HAS A WHAT?” Garcia screamed as Morgan informed her of the breaking news when she returned from her lunch break.

“That’s all he said and apparently she doesn’t know Spencer is her father so you have to keep your mouth shut, baby girl,” Morgan scolded.

“I will, I will. Do we know how old this kid is? What’s her name? Oh my god, who is the mother?” Garcia asked, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to my tech cave to do something totally unrelated.”

As Garcia stood from leaning on Morgan’s desk, the BAU glass doors opened.

Spencer was hunched over, holding Jo’s hand. Jo was dressed in corduroy pants, a lavender cardigan, and her hair was tied up in two pigtails that were bouncing side to side. Her converse were matching with Spencer’s.

“Well I’ll be damned, Pretty Boy wasn’t lying,” Morgan whispered to Garcia and Prentiss who had now joined them.

“Guys, this is Josephine. Jo, this is Derek, Penelope, and Emily. Can you say hi?” Spencer asked.

“Hi,” Jo responded meekly, scooching closer to Spencer’s leg, the one familiar face for her in the crowd of strangers.

“Hi Josephine! You look adorable! I love your little pigtails,” Penelope knelt down to her height.

“Thank you. My Mommy did them for me,”

Jo replied.

“Okay Jo, let’s go to the round table room so we don’t have to stay out here in the crazy bullpen. Let me just grab my files,” Spencer led Jo to his desk and then up the small flight of stairs.

The rest of the team watched in amazement as Spencer lifted Jo into one of the seats at the table and spun her around in the chair a few times as she started to giggle.

“Who’s the kid?” Rossi asked as he exited his office, having missed the big announcement.

“Reid’s daughter apparently,” Prentiss shrugged with a small smile on her lips.

“Okay, Jo! I’ve finished all my work. Wanna go to my apartment and grab some dinner?” Spencer asked.

Jo was sitting next to him, doodling with pens on extra lined paper. Penelope had also brought in some of her trinkets from her desk for her to play with.

“I miss Mommy,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry but Mommy is going to pick you up from my apartment as soon as she can. Come on, I’ll let you get whatever you want for dinner,” Spencer tried to cheer her up.

“Ice cream?” Jo perked up.

Spencer laughed, “How about we have a real meal for dinner and then we can have some ice cream?”

Jo contemplated this.

“Okay but you have to carry me because my legs are tired,” Jo explained.

“Oh-uh okay, yes I can do that,” Spencer stuttered, suddenly getting nervous that his clumsiness would result in him tripping with Josephine in his arms.

Jo outreached her hands and made a grabby motion and Spencer picked her up and rested her on his left hip, his right hip occupied by his satchel.

“Bye Josephine!” Emily smiled at the little girl.

She gave an enthusiastic wave as Spencer carried her to the elevator.

“What do you want for dinner?” Spencer placed Jo into the child seat in the shopping cart.

“Chicken nuggets!” Jo exclaimed.

“Chicken nuggets, it is,” Spencer pushed the cart to the frozen aisle, grabbing a bag of the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.

“How about some smiley fries too?”

Jo nodded with a smile as Spencer opened another freezer door.

“And we should probably have a veggie. How about baby carrots? Do you like carrot sticks?” Spencer questioned.

“Yes, Mommy always makes me eat my veggies or no dessert,” Jo stated.

“So if you eat all your carrot sticks, then you can have ice cream. What flavor do you want?”

“Ummm strawberry please.”

“Good choice,” Spencer smiled.

“We need rainbow sprinkles too, Spencer!” she exclaimed.

“Of course! How could I have almost forgotten!” he chuckled.

Jo yawned after scooping the last spoonful of strawberry ice cream with extra sprinkles into her mouth.

You had texted Spencer you would be there in thirty minutes but he didn’t think Jo was going to last that long. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“Jo, do you want to go to bed?”

He soon realized his mistake as tears started to form in the child’s eyes.

“Where is Mommy? She always tucks me into bed and reads me a bedtime story,” she cried.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Spencer quickly stood from his seat and hugged Jo, “Mommy is on her way but I think she would want you to get some rest so I’ll read you a bedtime story, okay?”

Jo nodded and sniffled. Spencer wiped her tears away with his cardigan sleeve. He picked Jo up, getting used to the comforting feeling of her in his arms, and tucked her into his bed.

Spencer looked around at his bookshelves full of technical books and classic novels in other languages but devoid of any colorful picture books that would interest a kid.

“How about I make up a story?” Spencer whispered.

Jo nodded sleepily.

“Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess and a goofy knight in the kingdom of uh- Caltechia,” he spoke softly.

“The princess and the knight were madly in love despite how the knight was so clumsy and the princess was so elegant. However, the knight went away to slay the evil dragon and both the knight and the princess were so sad to be apart. When the knight finally returned, he realized the princess had become a queen and she had an equally beautiful daughter who was now the princess. The knight loved them both dearly.”

Spencer looked down to see that Jo was fast asleep. He brushed the stray hairs off of her face and leaned down to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He figured there was no harm since Jo was fast asleep and he just wanted to say it to her at least once.

About ten minutes later, a knock sounded at the door as Spencer was washing dishes.

“Hey, I knew you wouldn’t accept money as a form of payment so I got you an extra large coffee, extra sugar,” you handed him the cup.

“Thank you but that really isn’t necessary. I was more than happy to do it. I really want to do it again,” Spencer adamantly said.

“Jo has a tee ball game on Sunday. You are welcome to come and then we could all grab dinner after,” you offered.

“I’ll be there,” Spencer smiled softly.

“Um, where is she?” you asked.

“Oh she’s sleeping in my bed. I’m not exactly sure of her normal bedtime but her eyes were drooping so I figured I should put her to bed. We had dino chicken nuggets, smiley fries, and baby carrots for dinner and then some ice cream. I hope that’s okay,” Spencer whispered as he led you to his room.

“More than okay. Thank you so much. I’m surprised you got her to go to bed. The nights she has stayed at my parent’s, she refused to go to sleep for hours,” you stated as you picked her up.

Jo nuzzled into your neck even though she was still asleep. Spencer watched as you slowly made your way out of the apartment with Jo as to not wake her up.

“See you Sunday,” you whispered, giving him a soft smile.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Spencer replied.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #cm fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader

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anabsolutetrainwreck · 3 years

Note

SECOND PART TO "THROUGH THE WARNING SIGN'S" PLEASE

i’d like to make you mine || h. styles

sequel to ‘through the warning signs’

warnings: swearing, references to masks + covid

word count: 1.5k

summary: a glass of spilt wine leads to slightly different plans...

part one.

Sat at the desk in the spare room of Florence’s house, you listened to Louisa’s ramblings about how rude it was that you’d waited at least two hours to tell her that you were going on a date with Harry Styles. You’d FaceTimed her as soon as you and Florence got home from set, but no, she wasn’t having that as an excuse. “Well, what are you going to wear?” she asked.

You shrugged, rubbing your moisturiser along your face, “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it yet.”

She was tucked up in her bed at home in England. She had her duvet pulled up to her chin, the soft hum of music in the background. She scoffed, “Haven’t really thought about? You are joking, right? You’re going out for dinner with Harry fucking Styles and ‘you haven’t really thought about what you’re gonna wear’?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you sighed.

“Like what?”

“Harry fucking Styles,” you mocked as she grumbled something about not sounding anything like that. “You’re making it sound like a big deal.”

“Uh, Y/N, it kind of is a big deal.”

“No, it’s just like I’m going on a date with any other boy.”

She let out a loud laugh, “Oh, no, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that. I was talking about the fact that you haven’t been on a date in, like, two years.”

You let out a gasp in mock offence, “Fuck you!”

She chuckled, “No, but I am happy for you.”

“Really? And you’re not jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous?”

“You used to be literally in love with him.”

She gasped, “I was not!”

“Don’t lie, Louisa,” you laughed. “You used to come and sleep at my house when we were, like, seventeen and you’d do nothing but talk about him.”

“You know I was a Liam girl. Besides, I’m just waiting for Robert Pattinson to return my call,” she sighed.

“Robert Pattinson? Jesus, Louisa, weren’t you just nursing a major obsession with Timothée Chalamet?” you laughed. You’d always found her ability to crush on celebrities so easily hilarious.

“That’s besides the point.”

You looked over at the clock hung above your temporary bed. 5:23. “Right, I better go.”

She pouted, “Do you have to?”

“Yes! And shouldn’t you be getting some sleep? Don’t you have work in the morning?”

“Maybe.”

“What time is it over there?”

“Like half one in the morning.”

“Exactly! Go to sleep, Louisa.”

“Fine. I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too, Louisa,” you smiled gently at her as she hung up. It was nice talking to Louisa again after so long. You did miss her dearly. But now you had a date with Harry to distract you for a little while.

Once you’d carefully concocted an outfit and finished drying your hair from the shower you’d had before you called Louisa (you’d assured her that she’d been your number one priority once you got back from set, but it was really hygiene, especially before a date you’d been waiting for for four years), it was about time for Harry to arrive. So, you sat downstairs with Florence and her boyfriend, Zach. Your knee was bouncing as you waited for him, your stomach full on dread. “Y/N, will you calm down? It’ll be fine,” Florence sighed. “He clearly cares. Fuck, I mean he literally asked about what allergies you had before asking you out to dinner.”

You nodded, and before you had the chance to say anything, a knock at the door only sent you into a complete state of collapse. Florence extended her hand and dragged you towards the door. With every step, you felt more and more sick. “I feel ill, Flo. I might just lie down. Tell Harry I said sorry,” you rushed out quickly, trying to turn and run towards the staircase. But to no avail.

“You’ll regret it if you don’t go on this date,” she said and you knew she was right. You’d only wake up in the morning and scold yourself for not even trying.

As she opened the door, you were met with Harry, dressed in a black tuxedo. It was jazzed up with some pink floral embroidery and it certainly looked more expensive than what you could earn in 10 years. He grinned, “Good evening, Flo.”

“You alright, Harry?” she smirked, her eyes fluttering between your nervous self and the man stood on her doorstep.

“Good, thanks. Do you mind if I steal Y/N away for the evening?”

“Only if you promise to bring them back before midnight,” she joked.

“Of course,” he nodded, smiling. “You coming?”

You nodded, looking back to see Florence’s supportive smile. You followed Harry into his car and, before you knew it, you were on your way to some fancy restaurant he’d booked. In you went, sat down at your table, studied the menu and ordered your selected food. It was only then, as the waiter walked away, that the conversation really started up. Naturally, the conversation prior had just been small talk about what the two of you were thinking about ordering.

Amazingly, and almost to your surprise, the conversation flowed nicely, unlike all of the ones you’d shared at work. You wanted to talk about favourite novels and guilty pleasures and pet peeves and bad habits and embarrassing childhood stories with him. As he sat opposite you, chatting away. You couldn’t help but study his face and the way his eyes never wavered from you. You watched his hand as it reached across to grab your wine glass and pour you a glass of the upscale red wine. Unsure exactly where it all went wrong, you ended up with the staining wine seeping through your white shirt. “Shit, shit, shit. Shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he quickly stood, rubbing one of the napkins across the stain. You almost felt bad for ruining the napkin at how opulent it looked.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, grabbing his hand to move it away from your torso. A couple of people turned to look at the pair of you, whispering amongst themselves. He sent you an apologetic glance, dropping the wine-stained napkin onto the table. This only further ruined the cloth that coated the table. “Maybe we should leave?” you offered, not feeling up to sitting in a stained shirt for a couple of hours.

He nodded, sighing, frustrated, “Right, yeah. Of course. Do you want me to take you back to Florence’s?”

You didn’t want this night to end. It had been fun and Harry’s company was one you had a newfound appreciation for. “Just away from everybody,” you whispered.

He nodded, his features brightened slightly. Taking your hand, he walked you out of the lavish restaurant. As the pair of you walked through the streets, illuminated in an orange glow as the sun sat atop the horizon, you knew there’d be pictures in the press the morning to follow. All headlined with something like ‘HARRY STYLES SPOTTED OUT WITH MYSTERY DATE’. They wouldn’t know who you are, half of your faces obscured by masks. But, then eventually, somebody would point out that it looked like you. And then that would get out of control, making all of the headlines for at least an hour look something like ‘HARRY STYLES AND LITTLE WOMEN COSTUME DESIGNER, Y/N Y/L/N OUT FOR EVENING DINNER’. You knew that; he knew that. Both of you knew the consequences of fleeing the restaurant and roaming the streets. Whatever the two of you had going on, whatever you might have in the future, would instantly become public knowledge.

But, in the moment, you didn’t care. You liked Harry, and you were enjoying yourself. So, do you know what, fuck whatever anybody thought. This was your life, you were going to do whatever you wanted with it. “I am really sorry,” he said quietly as you walked down the quiet streets together.

“Honestly, Harry, it’s okay,” you smiled. It was bold from you, of course it was, but you did it anyway, reaching over to squeeze his hand. He looked over at you, his eyebrows had been knitted together, but at the sight of your warm smile, they softened. Your face was coated in a soft layer of setting sun and, Harry would argue, it made you look ethereal and the most divine thing he’d ever laid his eyes upon. Oh, how he wanted to write so many songs about you. Even the Gods couldn’t compare to you in that moment, he thought. “I didn’t plan for this evening to go like this,” he said, his voice quiet and defeated.

“Well, I would hope not,” you replied, offering a crappy joke to hopefully lift his spirits. He did, in fact, crack a smile. Now, the two of you were alone. The sun was dipping below the silhouetted horizon and the evening, you feared, was drawing to somewhat of an end. “Harry,” you began, hoping to finally ask all of the little, insignificant things about his life.

“Yeah?” he replied, turning to glance at you.

And it felt as if you’d waited so long to simply ask, “What’s your favourite novel?”

#harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry #harry imagines #harry styles imagines

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halloweenhoneylover · 3 years

Text

serendipity

summary: spencer cannot wait to propose, but you accidentally beat him to it (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5k

warnings: some language! some minor angst!

author’s note: this is 100% based on one of my favorite episodes of new girl (google doc name is winston bishop type shit), also this is mega self-indulgent so if u don’t like dinosaurs and/or ferns i’m sorry :/

You let out a satisfied hum. Everything was quite nearly perfect. Presently, you were sitting on a bench next to the little duck pond in the park by your apartment, and you watched as tendrils of the weeping willow grazed the surface, sending gentle ripples across the water. It seemed to glow in the dappled sunlight. An adorable duck family was nestled into some of the reeds, and your heart was happy as you watched the mother tending to her ducklings. This was your favorite spot in the entire city.

“Hey, Spence?” Your head rested on his shoulder as he read one of the Ray Bradbury novels that he loved dearly. You weren’t sure which one he was on now; he’d been determined to read his entire collection this weekend and had been flying through.

“Yes, dear?” His eyes didn’t leave the pages, but you didn’t mind.

“What do you call a group of ducks?”

“There’s a couple names actually. It can be called a raft, team, or paddling; it’s a matter of preference.” Finally, he shifted his gaze toward you, and he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The flush of your cheeks and the wisps of your hair, he was so incredibly enamored, he loved you so much. And he was so excited to let you know so soon, but not quite yet.

“I think I like paddling.”

“Yeah, me too.” Shutting his eyes to revel in this moment, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you wanna get married?”

What.

Spencer floundered in the absolute contradiction of feelings that he found himself submerged in in that moment. Ice flooded his veins, and his face heated. His blood pressure skyrocketed, and oh God, it’s not supposed to happen like this. Yes, he loves her terribly, and yes, he absolutely wants to marry her, but he had a plan! An incredibly intricate and thoughtful twenty-two step plan that was going to take place over the course of the next month. It was all laid out in an entire binder in his desk. All he could muster in response was an extremely eloquent, “Uh—well, uh—”

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, you finally lifted your head to look at him with the biggest heart eyes he’s ever seen, and he can’t help but feel so, so guilty. “I just thought, why not, you know? Spencer, I love you a whole lot, and I’m pretty sure you love me a whole lot too. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want the rest of my life to start right now.”

“No.”

Judging by the look on your face, that was clearly not the answer you were expecting. “No?”

“Uh, yeah, no.” God, stupid dumb idiot, telling the girl you want to marry that you don’t want to marry her. What’s the point of having 187 IQ points if you use exactly none of them when it actually matters?

“No, you don’t want to marry me?” Your heart dropped into your stomach and was falling further and further every passing second.

“Wait no, hold on—”

“No, I get it,” you choked out, hastily standing up from the bench. “Actually, I don’t get it, but that doesn’t really matter, I guess.” You jammed your arms into the sleeves of your jacket, so you could get out of this moment as soon as humanly possible. Holy shit, had you been blind-sided. “Um, I think I’m gonna go hang out with Penelope, might spend the night, I’m not sure. Enjoy your book.” And with that, you were speeding down the path out of the park.

“Wait, (Y/N/N)!” Spencer tried to gather his belongings to run after you, but you had a head start, and he couldn’t gather all of the books in his arms fast enough. Leave the books!!! Go after her!!! But you had already turned the corner and were out of sight.

With his books finally secure, Spencer sprinted in the direction of your shared apartment. He needed to fix this. And fast.

———

Morgan sat at his desk peacefully looking over the plans for a house he was renovating when the phone rang, and he couldn't help but internally groan at the sound. If Hotch is calling on his weekend off, so help him God, he would hang up and chuck the phone out the window.

Instead, he was met with Garcia’s voice, which was so loud he had to pull the phone away from his ear. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, mama. Let’s take it down a few notches.”

“Alright, fine, babycakes,” she hissed, and Derek was shocked at the unfamiliar venom in her tone. “Would you please be so kind as to explain to me why your dear friend Reid is the most evil, most reprehensible, most despicable—”

“Garcia, what are you talking about?”

“You mean that little rat boy hasn’t come crawling to you explaining his crimes?”

Despite his infinite patience for her antics, he sighed quietly. “I’m in the dark, baby girl, but I’m sure whatever Reid did, it can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it can be that bad! He told (Y/N) that he didn’t want to marry her.”

“He did what?” Derek’s eyes were practically popping out of his head at the news. There’s no way that happened.

“He said that he didn’t want to marry our precious lily flower (Y/N)! I love that boy, but now, (Y/N) is here bawling her eyes out on my couch, and I don’t know what to do!”

His heart broke a little at the thought of his friend being so devastated, but he couldn’t help the roaring confusion that plagued him. Derek knew that Spencer was planning to propose to you; he’d seen the binder. He’d even been recruited to help with Steps 4, 9, 10, and 18!

Oh.

And that’s when Derek had a sneaking suspicion as to what had occurred. “Penelope, were his exact words ‘I don’t want to marry—” But his attention was drawn away from the phone by a knock on the door.

Speak of the devil….

“Garcia, I gotta go, but tell (Y/N) everything’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna have a word with our boy.”

“Oh my God, is he there with you?! That little bastard—” He hung up before her words could become any sharper, and the knocking became frantic.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” He jogged to go unlock the door. “You’re gonna knock the door down, kid.”

The door swung open to reveal Spencer, huffing and puffing with a red face and a binder in arm. “Morgan, I am the stupidest man to ever walk the Earth.”

“Did you run here?”

Ignoring the question, he pushed past him with an agitated step. “I am a complete idiot, a dumbass, if you will.”

Morgan shut the door and crossed his arms, walking to stand opposite Reid who had sat on the couch with his head in his hands. “Yeah, I might agree with you on that one. Garcia called me, told me (Y/N) is crying on her couch ‘cause you told her you didn’t want to marry her, which I know is not true.”

“I didn’t say that!” he cried, gesticulating wildly. “Not exactly. She asked me if I wanted to get married—”

“And what did you say?”

His hesitation was palpable. “...No.”

“Yeah, I’d say that constitutes dumbass behavior, especially because I know you only said that because you have your proposal all planned out, and you want it to be perfect.”

“Morgan, you don’t get it,” he implored, the desperation evident in his eyes, and Derek finally started feeling a little bad for the kid, an inkling of sympathy squirming in his gut. “No one deserves the most perfect proposal more than (Y/N). No one. You know how she’s always felt unwanted, and she’s told me that she felt like she always has to ask for love, and I couldn’t let her feel like that with me. I had to make sure that she had a special proposal because she’s special. And I want her to know without having to ask that I want her more than anything else in this world.”

Reid looked down at the toes of his scuffed Converse, hoping that he hadn’t permanently fucked up his best chance at happiness, and Morgan’s expression softened. “I know, kid. And I’m not trying to rub salt in the wound, but you do know that this was not the best way of letting her know that she’s wanted and loved?”

“Yes, I know, Morgan,” he muttered, voice breaking around the slug in his throat. “I wasn’t thinking.”

A sigh. “No, you weren’t. But I’m gonna help you fix it.”

Reid looked up with wide eyes. “Really?”

“You both deserve to be happy...even if you make some pretty stupid choices sometimes.”

Reid didn’t think he’d ever felt so grateful for his friend, and he offered a smile in gratitude. “Thanks. But I don’t even know where to start.”

Quirking an eyebrow and returning with a grin, Morgan picked up the binder from the table where it had been set. “I’ve got a couple ideas.”

———

“How is she doing?”

“Erm, it’s not looking great,” Garcia responded.

She was openly hostile when Reid had called her (he’d never been on the receiving end of Garcia’s wrath (so few people had been), and he was sure that was something he never wanted to experience again), but she’d finally restrained herself and offered a little empathy (not a lot though, she was too loyal to (Y/N) for that) when he had explained himself. However, when she’d been informed of the plan to apologize, regain your love and trust and to maybe, just maybe, ask for your hand in marriage, she had wholeheartedly avowed her support and pledged her help despite still being a little miffed at boy genius’ idiocy.

“She’s been sitting on the floor of the bathroom for an hour listening to Landslide on repeat and crying, so I would say she’s, um…not well.”

Spencer winced at that, and he felt physically sick at the thought that you were hurting because of him. His heart clenched unbearably, and he wished so badly that he could take back his words and just say yes, but unfortunately for him, time is linear, and he was just going to have to do his best to fix things.

“I just need a couple more hours to get everything ready.”

“Well, hurry up, pretty boy! I love our girl immensely, but if I have to hear Stevie Nicks mourn the passage of time and love one more time, I will lose my mind.”

“Garcia, please, just be patient.”

She groaned. “You’re lucky I love you.” And with that, she hung up.

———

You huffed a sigh, clutching to your chest a shiny pink pillow covered in sequins and giving Garcia the biggest puppy eyes you could muster. “Please, Penny, let’s not go out to dinner. Let’s just stay in and order Cheesecake Factory; you love Cheesecake Factory!”

“You’re right I do, but I love you more, and right now, you need to get up and get some fresh air!” The almost excessive amount of peppiness in her voice and her refusal of Cheesecake Factory was slightly suspicious, but you didn’t really have time to consider it as she dragged you up off the couch and to the door.

“Okay, counterpoint: what if you went out for dinner, and I stayed in and wallowed in self-pity?”

By the look on her face, you knew your evading tactics were not going to fly. She tutted slightly and said, “You’ve got to know I can’t let you do that. I’m legally obligated to stay with you until you feel better, that’s the deal when you’re friends with me.” She grabbed your coat, holding it open for you.

Reluctantly, you sighed and slid your arms in, grumbling, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, but let’s get a move on!” And with that, she herded you out the door.

———

It was a nice dinner, the two of you out on the town, and for a while, you were granted the solace of distraction. Garcia took you into the city, and somehow it felt a little easier to breathe there under the streetlights amidst a bustling Saturday night crowd. You nestled together in some street corner diner, ordering an absurd amount of food and jabbering on about anything and everything. If she noticed the moments when you fell silent, eyes distant and glassy, (and she definitely did), she never said anything; she just offered a new topic and redirected you from the very sad place that was thoughts of Spencer. And you would latch on eagerly, seizing the opportunity to forget.

So, you spent the evening with late night waffles and french fries and milkshakes and the unending source of cheer that was Penelope Garcia, and by the end of it, your mind didn’t immediately redirect to that morning’s tragedy, which Garcia would define as a success. Together, you found your way back to her car, and you tumbled into the passenger seat, your eyelids immediately fluttering shut. Penelope grinned and drove off.

When you woke again, you were engulfed in bewilderment and not just the regular post-nap disorientation. “Penny, why are we at the National Mall? This is the opposite direction of your house.”

She tapped her acrylics on the steering wheel and nervously surveyed the street in front of her, trying to escape your prying gaze. “Uh—no reason!”

Too exhausted from your day of grief and distraction to be suspicious of her terrible lying, you leaned your head back against the seat, watching the glow of the streetlamps as they roved over the interior of the car.

Garcia seized this movement to set the next part of Reid’s plan in motion. “Hey! You know, what’d be fun is if we went to the Natural History museum! There’s nothing better to cheer you up than dusty old dinosaur bones.” (She didn’t necessarily understand the appeal, but she was trying her best.)

A small chuckle escaped you. “As much as I’d love that, it closed at nine, so we wouldn’t even be able to get in anyway.”

Garcia’s mind thundered furiously as she tried to come up with some way to get you in that freaking building. “Let’s just walk past! Take a peek through the windows, see what we can see!”

Something in you sensed that she wasn’t going to let this go, so you relented as she finagled some sort of street parking that was definitely illegal. You could barely get your seatbelt off before she was dragging you the stone steps, the massive corinthian columns looming. You squeaked a quick Penelope! and tried to keep up. Entirely ready to give up and head back to the car when she tried the door, your mouth fell open in shock when it gave way with ease.

“Oh, look! It’s open! Let’s go inside.”

She didn’t wait for you to respond before she was ducking in the building, and you followed, completely and utterly baffled. Stumbling into the atrium, you were met by a receptionist at the desk. She smiled warmly, “Miss (Y/L/N), I presume?”

You nodded slowly before turning to Garcia whose devious smirk was undeniable. “Penny, what is going on?”

She grabbed your hands and looked at you with tears in her eyes. (Where the hell did those come from?) “Just remember that you’re a very forgiving person, and that sometimes the smartest of us can also be the most stupid.”

Furrowing your brows at that slightly cryptic message, you went to respond when the receptionist stood and said, “If you would, miss, please follow me.”

And so you walked with this stranger through the empty halls, the click of her heels echoing. It was odd to see a space that was normally flushed with people completely empty, and you studied the walls as you walked. “Um, may I ask what’s going on?”

The receptionist grinned, “I’m sorry, but I’m under strict instructions from Dr. Reid to not reveal anything.”

Strict instructions from Dr. Reid. You gasped a little at that, and your thoughts raged with possibilities of what Spencer could possibly have planned. If this was an elaborate attempt at an apology, you were a little overwhelmed; the little dispute this morning absolutely did not necessitate a response of this degree. Sure, you were disappointed, and you needed time to deal with it away from him, but you weren’t mad at him, not really. You had talked about marriage and knew that it was something you both wanted, but you had never discussed when. If he wasn’t ready to marry you quite yet, that was fine; you’d adjust. You were pretty sure you’d wait a whole lifetime for him. Besides, you had sprung it on him quite abruptly, and you knew Spencer and that he was not always well-equipped to deal with monumental change, and how could you blame him for that? You’d wait as long as he needed.

“Here we are!”

Her words broke you from your thoughts, and you looked up to realize you were at the Hall of Fossils. (You had always been fond of the dinosaurs.) Glancing at the girl, you asked, “What do I do now?”

She laughed a little at that. “Just go inside. Take a look around.” And with that, she turned around, leaving you to wander the exhibit.

So you ambled easily through the prehistoric relics and fossilized memories of a past Earth. It was rather haunting, the eerie silence and the illuminated dinosaur skeletons. You peered down at one of the explanatory plaques and instead found a blue post-it note. COLD. A grin wormed its way onto your face, and you jogged a little to the next plaque. GREENHOUSE GASES—WARMER. Spencer was always one for a game. So you zig-zagged through, collecting post-its. GLACIAL PERIOD—COLDER. CRETACEOUS WARMING. EOCENE KIND OF HOT!

With the last note, you looked up and gasped yet again. Spencer was standing in a sea of different plants and flowers placed throughout the central clearing, and donning his signature tight-lipped smile and your favorite of his cardigans, he gave you a small wave. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Your response was breathless, and now that you had met his eyes, you couldn’t tear yours away. A weight lifted from your lungs, it was such a relief to see him, and you hadn’t realized how much you had missed him in the hours you spent apart until you could breathe properly again. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He chuckled at that, but the tension in his shoulders never released; he was clearly anxious, but for what reason, it was hard to say.

An amusing gleam in his eye, he replied, “Same to you.”

“How did you get into the museum after hours?”

He took the moment to examine the toes of his shoes, replying delicately, “I have friends in high places.”

“Ah, Dr. Reid, I always forget that you ruled the world of academia before your time fighting crime.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “Do you remember our first date?”

You gave him a tender smile, and his racing heartbeat eased ever so slightly, you just had that kind of effect on him. “Well,” you began, “I remember you were wearing that cardigan, the one that I love, and I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out—”

“I was definitely more nervous. I was so anxious I forgot who Carl Sagan was at one point.”

“I’d forgotten about that!” You giggled at the memory. “But I remember being in this room, and we were making stupid dinosaur puns, and I believe I told you that you are dino-mite….”

He nodded meekly with a subdued grin. “I think that was the moment I fell in love with you.” Meeting his eyes once again, you felt the wind knocked out of you. The utter honesty you found radiating from his soft golden irises hurt your heart, and it was impossible to not believe him. He fell in love on the first date, how sweet and lovely and perfectly Spencer is that?

You took a breath and began to walk closer, skimming a hand over the lush greenery around you. “You know, the last time I was here, I didn’t remember there being so much flora.”

As if he had forgotten the miniature forest that surrounded him, he surveyed the plants surrounding him. There was a sea of succulents and ferns and honeysuckle and peonies and almost every other plant under the sun. “Yes, they’re a new addition. And if I recall correctly, it seems that lots of your favorites have made an appearance.”

“It does appear that way.”

He reached out to gently lift one strand of a nearby fern. “I believe you’ve mentioned before that you would ‘take a fern over a flower any day of the week.’”

“That would explain why they seem to be taking over the windowsills of our apartment.”

“True. Did you know that in the Victorian floriography, the fern represented sincerity and humility? So maybe if somebody had made a stupid mistake and they were trying to let someone know that they were really sorry, they might give a fern to say that they know they were being an idiot and they felt really bad for what they did.”

You laughed airily, “No, I was not aware of that fact.”

He closed the gap between you, reaching to tuck an errant lock of hair behind your ear. He simultaneously managed to pull a small bouquet of purple-ish flowers from thin air, causing more laughter to bubble from you. The laughing is a good sign, he thought, grinning. Keep going! “To really drive the point home, they might also give some columbine which represents foolishness.”

You looked up at him, your expression bright. “Oh man, this guy feels really bad.”

“Yeah,” he agreed before his words took a more somber cadence. “Yeah, he does.”

Your face softened. “Spence—”

“Um, before you say anything else, (Y/N), I just need to let you know how sorry I am for this morning. I love you so, so much, and I never want you to doubt that, and—”

“Spencer, slow down. Really, it’s okay! I’m not mad.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not angry with me, but it’s not okay because you still deserve an apology. A good apology. So,” he took a deep breath, “I am so very sorry for my actions and for letting you think for even a second that you’re not the most important thing in my life, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I want to marry you when you asked because I do. I really, really do.”

Something warm and elated simmered in your stomach, and you beamed at him. “I’m glad because I wanna marry you too.” But before you could get too caught up in the moment, you remembered your earlier thoughts. “I don’t want to push you in any way, though, or make you commit to anything before you’re ready because marriage is kind of a big deal, and I’m happy to wait. Spencer Reid, I’d wait for you forever.”

“I don’t want to wait.” He shook his head and began digging in his pocket.

Your eyes widened in shock and spluttered, “Spence, seriously, if you’re not ready—”

“I am ready.” Finally, he found it and pulled out a small velvet box, looking you dead in the eye. “(Y/N/N), I have been planning this for so long because I wanted it to be perfect for you. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and I wanted to give that to you.”

His admission gave you pause. “Wait, you’ve had this planned?”

“I’ve been planning this for months! This isn’t me trying to fumble around and fix my mistake. I have a binder and everything, you can ask Derek. That’s the only reason I said no!”

“You said no because you had a binder for your proposal plan?” you teased.

You both broke out into laughter at that.

Recovering his breath and trying to suppress his ever-growing grin, he said, “No, that’s not why. The only reason I said no earlier is because I needed to show you how much I wanted to say yes. You deserve the best, you deserve every star in the sky and every beautiful thing on this earth, and I wanted to make sure I gave that to you when we decided to spend the rest of our lives together because I want to be enough for you.” Trying to swallow around the slug in his throat, he continued, voice breaking slightly. “This is me giving you all the love I have to offer. You’re it for me, (Y/N). And frankly, I don’t want to spend another second without you.”

He settled on one knee and opened the box, looking up at you with the gentlest gaze and a pounding heart. The wetness of your eyes matched his, and you gave him a watery smile. “I’m saying yes now. I would really, really like to marry you, (Y/N/N), if you’ll still have me.”

“Of course, you absolute dork.” Yanking him up from the ground and grinning like a madman, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for the messiest kiss. He clutched your waist and held you as close as he could possibly manage. (His desire to never be parted seemed to be coming to fruition in the sort of melding of bodies that was occurring.) Clashing teeth and knocking noses, it was hard to settle things when neither of you could stop beaming. Overwhelmed by the complete and utter joy bubbling up in his chest, Spencer hugged you tightly before spinning you in a circle, both of you devolving into boisterous giggles.

“Wait,” he murmured. “I forgot to give you the ring, I still need to seal the deal!” To which, you responded with another peal of laughter (something he thought he would never tire of hearing), as his trembling fingers floundered for the ring.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, but I’ll take it either way.”

He finally secured, and taking your hand in his ever so gently tenderly, he slid a glimmering emerald on your finger.

“Oh, Spencer, it’s beautiful.” He let out a sigh of relief. With light confusion, you asked, “What’s the sigh for, handsome?”

“I know you wanted a special ring, but when I went ring shopping with Derek, there was nothing I thought you’d like, so I special-ordered one from this shop that was going to be your size and everything, but that ring wasn’t going to be ready for a couple weeks. So today, when I knew I had to propose tonight, I ran to that vintage store you love and came across this one, and I thought you’d like it, but I wasn’t sure it was gonna fit, and—”

“I love it,” you looked at him, trying to will him to understand the depth of your sincerity. “And it fits perfectly!”

“How serendipitous.” He thought his face was going to split in half, he was smiling so wide. He couldn’t stop looking at the ring on your finger. How could one silly little rock make tears well in his eyes? Nonetheless, the sight of it made his heart race and his stomach churn with unrepentant butterflies because looking at it, he knew the girl he loved more than anything else on the planet, his favorite person had chosen to spend the rest of her life listening to his rambles and laughing at his jokes and sitting next to him by the pond in the park. The listless dream that had seemed so hopeless and romantic finally came to fruition in that shiny green stone, so no, he would not stop staring.

“Indeed,” you mused, subtle and irresistible risibility fizzing in the silence that followed. You contemplated for a moment before asking, “What do we do now?”

A thoughtful frown graced his lips, and then he shrugged. “We have the museum until midnight. We could just wander for a bit.”

Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and you tugged on his sleeve, your excitement palpable. “I’ve always wanted to be in a museum when no one’s around at night! Oh my god, Spencer, it’s just like Night at the Museum!”

He quirked a brow, and a sly smirk turned up the corners of his mouth. “Does that mean I have to protect you when the dinosaur skeletons come to life?”

You scoffed, “Please, we both know that I’d be the one protecting you.”

Another devolution into giggling. It seemed to be your thing tonight.

“Fair enough.”

“Also, do we get to keep all of these plants?” His eyes remained glued to your flushed face as you peered around the room. He wasn’t ashamed to admit just how besotted he was, shamelessly beaming at his fiancée.

“I bought them for you, so yeah.”

“Sick! Our apartment’s gonna turn into a little greenhouse!”

He extended a crooked arm to you, to which you looped yours in his and proceeded to set off on your museum adventure. You learned your head on his shoulder as you walked, completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you very much.”

“I love you too, dear.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #anyone else obsessed with winston bishop?#i'd die for him #also can anyone tell that my fav literary device is polysyndeton #bc i feel like i use it way too often :/#actually i don't care!#bc i love it #also i counted three allusions in this bad boy if u find them all u get extra credit :)#jkjkjkjk #i hope all of the three people awake rn enjoy this

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jombocostello · 3 years

Text

Lost in Translation (Polnareff x Reader)

Anonymous asked: Hey! Would you mind writing a little Polnareff fic where the reader tried to learn French pick up lines to finally drop some hints, but messes up/forgets a word and gets embarrassed? 🥺

Now this is just too sweet. I changed the request up a little bit, I hope you don’t mind!! (Also if you spot any mistakes with the French, please let me know!! I’m not sure how much my high school education of French prepared me for writing Polnareff fanfiction lmao)

-----

"(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?"

You jump, tearing your eyes from the book you're scouring. You look at Joseph, who's sitting a few feet away from you on his hotel bed. He frowns. "It's three in the morning. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I... Well..." You laugh nervously, attempting to discreetly slide the book under your pillow as you search for the right words. "Yeah. I probably should be."

Joseph stands up and turns on the lamp that sits between you two, and you wince when the light hits your eyes. "But seriously, what have you been doing?" he asks again as he sits back down. "I've been trying to get some sleep and all I can hear is you muttering nonstop over there."

You can feel yourself start to blush, and you fix your eyes on the fascinating corner of the door behind Joseph. "Ah... I was just reading out loud. It helps me take it in better, y'know?" It's not a very good lie, and though you're not looking at Joseph, you know he's not buying it. "Half of enjoying a good book is visualization, isn't it?" You're audibly anxious.

"Fine. But what exactly are you reading?" You start to sweat; he's ruthless in his interrogation.

"Uh, it's... I mean you're probably not interested in it." Joseph's patience suddenly runs thin, and he leaps up and snatches the book out of your hand. "What the hell?" you shout, forgetting about the thin hotel walls and attempting rather aggressively to grab the book back.

Joseph, thanks to his powerful Joestar genes, is easily able to hold you off. "Hmm, what is... English-to-French dictionary...?" He looks up at you, confused, and you freeze. He rolls his eyes. "(Y/N), I'm failing to see what's so embarrassing about this. You want to learn a new language? More power to you - " Mid-sentence, he seems to come to a revelation, and you wince. You had almost made it out alive.

"...You're learning this for Polnareff, aren't you?"

"Isn't that the million dollar question?" you mumble, gluing your eyes to the floor. "Yes."

You can hear him horribly containing his laughter. "You've - you've got dedication, I'll give you that!" Little giggles are starting to escape him, and as he suddenly begins to howl with laughter, you try again to grab the paperback out of his hands.

Without breaking a sweat, he shoves you back onto your bed and starts leafing through the book. "Oh my God," Joseph wheezes, wiping a tear away with one hand and holding the book close to his face with the other. "I mean I knew you had feelings for the guy, but I had no idea you loved him like this!" The word 'love' hits you viscerally and you cover your face with your hands, trying to push down your unbearable embarrassment. "Oh God, that's so cute."

"Shut up!" you hiss, finally managing to wrestle the book back from Joseph. "I don't have to explain myself to you," you spit with as much rudeness as you can muster.

"You don't have to explain a thing, my friend," Joseph replies without missing a beat. "I can read you like a book right now."

"Oh my God," you groan, turning away and looking down at the bed. Your face is on fire, and you gingerly set the book down next to your pillow and you fold your arms on your lap. "Just... Fine. You got me, okay?"

"I guess I did get you! I really didn't mean to." Joseph's laughter seems to have finally ended, and he watches as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sorry for laughing, (Y/N). I'm not trying to make fun of you, I promise - it's just so ridiculous that you're going to all these lengths to win Polnareff over when I'm sure it shouldn't be that difficult."

"Shouldn't be that... What do you mean?" You momentarily put aside your anger when you hear Joseph's words.

"Isn't it obvious? You two are perfect for each other. I'm positive that Polnareff shares your feelings."

"That's funny," you respond, huffing out a little laugh. "He's always flirting with girls, isn't he? I know you've seen him do it."

Joseph rolls his eyes. "Of course I have. That's just the way he is. He can be a bit...familiar with the young women he meets, but I'm fully convinced that you're the person he has his eyes on." Before you can interject with another rebuttal, Joseph speaks again. "Don't argue with me on this. I've been alive far longer than you and I've seen lots of people fall in love in this lovely world!"

You don't want to admit it, but Joseph's actually giving you some confidence here. "You, well... You might be right." Joseph grins. "I'm still gonna try to figure out some of this stupid language, though. I think he'll be happy to hear it - I mean, he's been away from home for a long time." You swing your legs up onto the bed and cross them, grabbing the book and flipping it open as you do.

Joseph marvels at the sheer concentration in your eyes as you force your way through the paperback dictionary. He can't believe how in love you are; it's honestly making him a little teary-eyed. "Well, goodnight," he says as he climbs back under the covers. "Want me to leave the light on?"

"If that's okay, yeah." Joseph nods and lays his head down on his pillow. As he shuts his eyes and drifts off to sleep, he listens to you faintly mutter to yourself, "Je t'aime. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

The next day comes quickly, and unfortunately you haven't really slept enough to prepare for it. You'd stayed up all night after your little encounter with Joseph, so you're left with about an hour and a half of sleep to get through the day. You and Joseph quickly get ready, and you go to meet the rest of the group in the lobby.

You yawn loudly as you step out of the elevator, and Joseph takes a second to laugh at you before following. You elbow him in the arm as you walk up to Jotaro, Avdol, Iggy, and Polnareff. Kakyoin's still resting up in the hospital; you all miss him dearly.

"Good morning!" Avdol calls, watching as you shuffle into the little group. "Did you two sleep well?"

You simply shake your head, and Joseph laughs a little at your severe expression. "(Y/N) stayed up all night reading," he explains, but after you shoot a look his way he shuts his mouth.

"Oh, really?" Polnareff asks brightly, raising his eyebrows. You look up at him and feel your heart start pounding; if he asks what you were reading you think you might drop dead on the spot. "Didn't take you for the reading type."

You nearly laugh at that, looking incredulously up at Polnareff. "What the hell does that mean - are you calling me dumb?"

"No!" he says hastily, eyes wide. "I mean - maybe." You both start laughing now, and Joseph leaves to return the hotel keys and check out. "In all seriousness," Polnareff starts with a little smile on his face, "I just didn't think you could sit still long enough to enjoy a novel. You seem like a more active person, I guess."

You honestly can't - your little French study sessions have been nothing short of torture. Still, you just shrug. "Everyone enjoys a good story, don't they?"

"Yeah." Polnareff turns to Jotaro and Avdol, who have been chatting to each other. "So, what's on the agenda today?" he asks, leaning against the wall behind him.

"Well..." Avdol thinks to himself for a moment. "We're a few hours away from Cairo. I think we should stay here for a while longer and then start heading there at around midday - so we can arrive under the cover of night."

"You're a good strategist, Avdol," you comment. "I would've just had us all drive into the city and parade around to find a hotel."

Avdol huffs out a laugh. "As much as I'd like to do that, our lives are in danger. We'll have to be really careful once we get to Cairo. I'm sure Dio has eyes everywhere."

"Yeah." You turn to Jotaro, who's been silent so far. Iggy's on the ground next to him, looking as pissed off as a dog possibly can. "How did you sleep last night?"

He just shrugs. "Same old. It was nice having the room to myself, save for this little asshole." He jabs his thumb in Iggy's direction, and you snort. "But yeah, it was fine. I just wanna get this over with. I've been..." He glances down at his shoes. "I've been thinking about my mom."

You'd almost forgotten about the original reason Joseph and his grandson set out on this mission. You had heard from the Foundation a few days ago that Holly Kujo's condition was only worsening. "You're gonna see her soon, huh? When we get to Cairo we'll practically be in Dio's backyard."

Jotaro nods. "Yep. Can't wait to beat the shit out of him."

You grin and nod vigorously. "I'm with you there."

Joseph returns to your little group, and the five of you all huddle together. "So," he starts, taking a deep breath. "Are you thinking we should wait, Avdol?"

"Yes. I was just saying that we should give it a few hours before we get on the road."

Joseph seems satisfied with that answer. "Perfect. So until then... I guess we can do a bit of sightseeing! We should pair up and try to stay at least a little close by. I'll stick with Avdol, and Jotaro - would you mind going with Iggy? If anything happens, both of your stands would be more than capable of taking care of things." Jotaro rolls his eyes and hums in agreement. "Okay. That leaves you two."

The sheer glee in Joseph's shit-eating grin as he looks at you and Polnareff honestly astounds you. Polnareff doesn't seem to notice, and he looks down at you. "Well this'll be fun! I haven't gotten to spend much time with you in the past couple days, (Y/N)." There's a pure affection in Polnareff's voice as he speaks to you, and you feel yourself fall even deeper in love. "We'll see you guys here in three hours, alright?" Joseph nods, waving goodbye with a sickly sweet smile, and Polnareff takes your hand and drags you through the revolving door.

The sun feels great on your skin. You follow Polnareff out, looking at your hand clasped in his as he leads you down the street a ways. He makes you feel so, so happy, and you're overcome by the desire to tell him that. "Where are you going?" you call, laughing a little when you realize you've been following him without having a clue where he's taking you.

He halts suddenly, and you run right into his back. "Oh, shit! Sorry." He spins around and rights you, peering down at your face. "That didn't hurt, did it?"

"N-no." You wince and feel your nose, which had rammed right into one of his shoulder blades. "I'm all good." After a thumbs-up for confirmation, Polnareff is satisfied. "So we're here?"

"Yep!" Polnareff gestures to the shop you're standing in front of. It's a café by the looks of it, and it seems pretty nice. "We passed it while we were driving in yesterday."

"Oh, cool!" Polnareff heads inside and you follow him. At the counter, Polnareff orders a couple pastries and two espressos for both of you. Once he gets his order, he hands you your espresso and walks out the door. He's really intent on getting the most out of these few hours of respite, it seems.

"Now that we have some food," he says, gesturing to the little bag of desserts, "we can have a picnic!" He starts walking briskly down the street, and you nearly have to jog to keep up with him.

"Did you spot this on the way in too?" you ask. He nods. "Damn, I missed so much. I was sleeping." He laughs, and you join in. After a few more minutes, you reach your destination.

It's a little park that overlooks a small, tranquil pond. "Oh, this is neat!" you say. "It's really pretty."

"Yeah." You look up at Polnareff as he gazes out at the scenery. You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time; he's usually being pestered by Iggy or attacked by some enemy stand user. You're really grateful that you get to share a calm, sweet moment with him before you have to head out to battle in Cairo.

You decide to take a seat on the grass a few feet away from the pond. Polnareff sits down beside you and carefully sets his espresso down on the grass, making sure it doesn't spill, and you do the same. You cross your legs as Polnareff reaches into the bag and pulls out a pastry.

"For you," he says, bowing his head as he hands you a croissant.

You laugh as you take it from him. "I'm honored," you reply, dipping your head in mock gratitude to Polnareff. He smirks a little and takes out a croissant for himself, leaning back and taking a big bite. You try yours, and it tastes amazing. "You're got a good eye," you tell Polnareff, your voice a little muffled as you eat. "This is really good."

"Well it's only natural that I would have an eye for cuisine," he replies with a smug grin. You reach over and slug him in the arm, and he lets out a startled laugh when you hit him. "Hey! It's true." You sigh and turn towards the pond, watching the little ripples in the water as the breeze gently brushes over it. Polnareff's still laughing a little beside you, and the whole scene suddenly feels completely and utterly romantic. You realize with a start that this is the perfect moment to try out your newly acquired language skills!

You pick up your espresso and take a sip; it's just as good as the food had been. Tentatively, you look over at Polnareff and find him staring out at the pond. "C'est un bon café," you say as nonchalantly as you can.

Polnareff nods and smiles faintly. "Oui, je suis d'accord," he replies, but the second the words leave his mouth he whips his head around, staring at you with wide eyes. "What did - did you just - was that French?" he sputters, starting to grin like an idiot.

You return the smile, nodding. "Oui. I'm glad you could understand me."

"Glad I could - God, (Y/N), you're so - " Polnareff suddenly reaches out and wraps you in a huge hug, knocking the wind from you as he practically pulls you into his lap.

"H-hey!" you yelp, laughing loudly as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He sighs, placing his hand at the base of your neck, and you feel a shiver run through you. After a moment, he pulls away and beams at you.

"I didn't know you knew French!" he says brightly; he looks ecstatic. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it until a few days ago," you tell him with a little smile. "I've been picking it up little by little. I still barely know anything."

"You've been...learning it?" he asks softly, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah! I found a little dictionary at a shop about a week ago, and that's actually what I stayed up all last night reading. Can't say that I'm grasping it very well, but I'm giving it a shot just for you!" The smile drops from your face a bit when you notice that Polnareff's expression has grown somber.

"(Y/N)..." Your eyes widen when you notice tears welling up in Polnareff's eyes. "You've been such a good friend to me. You're always there to make me smile, and well, you've saved my life a few times too. But this, I - you don't know what it means to me."

You reach out and take his hands in yours, a little clumsily. "You're the one who makes me smile. You're my best friend." You're suddenly made acutely aware of the butterflies in your stomach, and you suck in a deep breath. It feels like it's now or never. "Polnareff, there's something I want to tell you." He blinks the tears from his eyes, and you hold his hands a little tighter. "I really - "

Before you can finish, you're punched in the jaw by an impossibly powerful fist. You fly back, landing hard in the grass a few feet away. As you stumble to your feet, swearing and clutching your face, you summon your stand. It fucking figures there's a stand user here. Sometimes you wonder if you're some sort of stand magnet.

Polnareff frantically pulls himself up and dashes over to you. "(Y/N)!" he shouts, holding you by the shoulders and looking at your jaw. "Shit, are you alright?!"

You wince when Polnareff ghosts his fingers over the spot. "Probably not," you mutter, breathing in sharply through your nose. Polnareff freezes, and you shrug his other hand off of you. "We've gotta beat this guy, okay?"

"Y-yeah." Polnareff summons Silver Chariot and stands against your back, scanning the area for the stand or its user. You do the same, trying to push the pain out of your mind. "There!" Polnareff suddenly shouts, and you twist your head around.

It's a man; he's standing on the other side of the pond. He stalks up to the two of you, and as he walks, his stand slowly materializes behind him. It's extremely threatening, with a build that could rival Star Platinum and deep-set, bright red eyes. You force yourself to approach him and Polnareff follows you. Your stand is an archer, suited for long-range battle, and Polnareff's works better at a closer range, so you're usually able to cover each other's blind spots. Your stand pulls out an arrow and nocks it, aiming for the head of your enemy. "(Y/N), right?" he calls, a lax smirk on his face. "And Jean Pierre Polnareff." He and his stand take another step forward, and you tense. Polnareff's Silver Chariot is ready to strike at any moment. "Easy, easy!" he says, raising his hands on either side of his head. "I'm a fair man. Allow me to explain my stand to you."

You glance at Polnareff, and after a moment of hesitation he nods his head. Your stand lowers its bow while Silver Chariot points its rapier to the ground. The man slowly and surely approaches the two of you, and his stand waits beside him. "Thank you. Truce for now?" You grit your teeth and will yourself to nod. "I'm glad. Well, my stand is the Seven of Swords. Essentially, it's extremely powerful. I doubt you'll be able to get a single hit in, if I'm being honest." You can feel rage bubbling up inside you, and as hard as you try to fight it, you just can't kick the feeling. Your gaze flits to Polnareff; he looks just as angry as you.

Grimacing, you look back to the user. "My stand specializes in strength. Every punch it deals leaves a lasting effect - as I'm sure you've noticed, (Y/N)."

You want to scream. The smug look he's wearing and the searing pain in your face is all too much, and before he can continue, you have your stand quickly nock an arrow and fire. You hit him in his right shoulder - he had punched you with that arm - and he falls back, grasping at the wound. "Shit!" he shouts, leaning against his giant stand. With its left arm, Seven of Swords reaches out and yanks the arrow from its user's body.

You start to grin; it looks like you've knocked this guy down a notch. However, just when Polnareff moves to strike and you ready another arrow, he and his stand vanish. "What the hell?" Polnareff mutters, scanning the area. "Where could they have - "

"(Y/N), I'm disappointed!" You scream when the stand wraps its left arm around your neck, squeezing painfully but just lightly enough to let you remain conscious. The man leans in far too close and speaks. "You broke our truce. I suppose I can't be too angry... I wasn't exactly being completely truthful either." The stand's grip on you tightens, and you choke out a cough. Polnareff goes to slice through the arm around your neck, but before you even know what's happened, you're on the other side of the pond. Polnareff, now a great distance away, gapes at you before running over as quickly as he can.

"My Seven of Swords is a master of teleportation," the man announces. "Everything else is just a plus." His stand abruptly releases you, and as you gasp for air, the man grins. "I'm surprised by how easy it was to take care of you, (Y/N). Lord Dio had made you sound a lot tougher." You try to swear at him, but your voice is hoarse and barely understandable.

"(Y/N)!" You turn your head when Polnareff cries your name, and suddenly you're punched hard in the abdomen. You're knocked to the ground and your head smacks into the dirt, and the last thing you see before you lose consciousness is Polnareff's face, equal parts anguished and enraged.

-----

The first thing you note when you fade back into consciousness is a strong pain in your midsection. You groan, forcing your eyes open; looks like you were rescued. You're in your hotel room, and it seems like you're alone. You glance over at the window, gritting your teeth as you shift your aching neck, and you nearly laugh out loud when you see that stupid little dictionary sitting on your bed.

You hear the door open, and you turn to find Polnareff stepping through the doorway. "Hey," you say, your voice quieter than you'd intended.

He looks down at the sound of your voice and grins. "Glad to have you back," he replies softly. "I'm so relieved that you're alright." He carefully sits down beside you on the bed.

"Of course I'm alright." You crack a smile. "I wasn't gonna let that asshole kill me."

Polnareff laughs a little and nods. "Yeah, he was a real piece of shit. After he - after he knocked you out, I held him off for a little while until reinforcements arrived in the forms of Star Platinum and The Fool. The three of us had him crying like a baby."

"Thank God," you sigh. "He deserved it." You both fall into a little silence, neither of you quite sure of what to say. You remember exactly what you had been about to tell Polnareff when you were attacked, but you can't muster up the courage to try again now. "Even if it got fucked up at the end, thank you for the lovely afternoon," you finally say. "I really enjoyed our little picnic."

"So did I." Polnareff starts to speak more, but something catches his eye. You watch as he reaches over you and grabs something; it's the French dictionary. He peers down at it and starts flipping through the pages. Almost instantly he looks completely affronted, and you feel a laugh rise in your chest.

"What is it?" you ask him as he scoffs, shutting the book definitively and setting it back down.

"They made that thing so difficult to understand! It's so much simpler than that makes it out to be, really!" He shakes his head, clearly disappointed with the publication, and you let a little laughter escape. "How about this." He leans in towards you. "Instead of learning out of that stupid book, I can teach you! It'll be a lot more fun."

He's just so...charming. He's always so sincere, especially with you, and the pure kindness in his eyes as he speaks nearly takes your breath away. "That - that would be fun," you reply, too taken with him to think of anything else to say.

He grins. "Good. We can have your first lesson right now."

You laugh at that, making Polnareff jump a bit. "Already? What, am I gonna get homework too?"

He joins in on your laughter and shakes his head. "No, no, it'll be quick." Something in his expression softens, and you blink as he reaches out and places his hand gently over yours. He suddenly looks a lot more serious. "Tell me what I'm saying. Je suis amoureux de toi."

You open your mouth, softly whispering the words. Your mind's nearly a total blank; it seems you really didn't learn much from that dictionary. You're at least determined to get the beginning. "Ah... Je is 'I', so je suis would be 'I am', right?"

Polnareff nods. He wraps his hand around yours and holds it, just as he had earlier today. "Yes. Je is 'I', suis is 'am'..." He lifts his other hand and entwines it with yours. You're not sure what he's saying but you allow yourself to hope, just a little.

Polnareff's voice is hardly above a whisper as he says, "Je suis amoureux de toi - I'm in love with you."

A huge smile breaks across your face and you feel like you're floating. When Polnareff sees your reaction, his smile widens as well, and he leans down and wraps you up in a careful hug. "I love you too," you murmur in his ear; you think you might burst into tears if you try to speak any louder. "I have for a while now. I'm so happy you - " Despite your best efforts, you feel yourself start to cry. Polnareff leans back a bit, and you're almost amused to see that he's crying too. You probably look like a couple of lovesick fools, and you're so, so, happy.

"I'll never be able to show you how much you mean to me, (Y/N)," Polnareff murmurs before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "How much it means to me that you care."

"Of course I care," you whisper back, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. "I care because you mean the world to me."

Polnareff looks down into your eyes, and you both take in each other's expressions. "You know, I think we're perfect for each other," he breathes, and as you start to agree, he moves forward and captures your lips in a kiss.

Nothing has ever felt more right than Polnareff's lips on yours. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him as close as you possibly can. He parts from you for just a moment to help you sit up a bit, so that he doesn't cause the injury to your midsection any pain. You wince when a particularly sharp pang of pain hits you, and Polnareff softly runs his hand over your hair. After a moment, the feeling dissipates, and you kiss him again.

"Je t'aime," you breathe against his lips, and he smiles. You gently kiss the corner of his mouth and then rest your head on his shoulder. As he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, you whisper, "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

It's pitch black out as Joseph drives the group's large car down the winding roads to Cairo, with only the faint radio and Avdol's occasional snores to keep him company. He isn't exactly happy about driving in these conditions, but you had needed a few extra hours of bedrest before you could start this little road trip. Every once in a while, he glances at the back seat, and he finds you, Jotaro, and Polnareff all fast asleep.

After a couple hours of driving, Joseph hears someone stir behind him. He glances up at the rearview mirror and watches as Polnareff rubs his eyes and groggily looks to his left. You're sleeping against him, with your head on his shoulder and one arm loosely wrapped around his midsection. Polnareff's mouth turns up in a little smile, and he carefully wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"So I see everything worked out for (Y/N)," Joseph comments. Polnareff looks up at him, surprised and a little embarrassed to find he was being watched, and Joseph just laughs shortly. "I've always known you two were going to end up together. You really are a perfect fit."

Polnareff's face goes red and he looks back at you. "...Yeah. I'm really lucky."

"Oh, I know!" Joseph laughs again, startling Polnareff. "You should've seen (Y/N) last night, pouring over the French language like their life depended on it. They wanted so badly to make you happy after this hell we've been through."

Polnareff almost feels like crying again. He can't believe how truly lucky he is to have found you. "Still," Joseph says, "it's not quite over yet." Polnareff watches Joseph's expression turn somber through the rear-view mirror. "We've still got to kill Dio."

"Yeah." As he gazes down at you, so peaceful in sleep, he feels a fire light in his mind. He'd do anything to keep you alive, and while killing Dio will surely be extremely difficult, he knows he's going to do it - for Joseph, for Jotaro, for Holly Kujo, and for you. "We'll do it. We'll kill him and we'll all be fine."

"You're quite the optimist," Joseph mutters, sighing. "I try to be as well, but I'm worried that our luck so far will finally catch up to us in this final battle."

Polnareff isn't quite sure what to say, but now there's no doubt in his mind that they'll succeed in the fight against Dio. He just sighs, careful not to disturb you, and rests his head against the car window. "Do you want me to stay awake with you?" he asks Joseph.

"No, I'm fine. We'll be there pretty soon." Polnareff nods and shuts his eyes, and Joseph quickly turns his eyes back to the road.

As Polnareff begins to doze off, he gently clasps your hand in his. He hasn't had a home for a long time; ever since he lost his sister, he hasn't known that feeling of having somewhere - or someone - you truly belong with. Now, next to you, he dares to hope he's feeling it again. He's always loved you, he's realizing - you've always made him feel this way, whenever you joked around together or fought side-by-side in battle. Knowing that you feel the same was the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Just before he falls asleep, he whispers a gentle, "I love you." He holds your hand a little tighter and finally drifts off.

Joseph casts one final glance at the two of you in the back seat. Unlike Polnareff, he's a little more worried about the potential outcome of the face-off with Dio. Maybe, though, just maybe - the endless love you two possess for one another will be what wins the fight.

#my writing #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff x reader #polnareff imagine #jojo x reader #jjba imagine #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #seven of swords guy was basically steely dan with a cooler stand #also thank you to madame sofia coppola for the title sorry for stealing it

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dercolaris · 3 years

Text

Books

Fandom: Resident Evil Village

Characters: Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau, Angie

Relationship: Donna Beneviento & Salvatore Moreau (Friendship)

Genre: Friendship, Hurt and Comfort

Word length: 2123

Warnings: No warnings

Status: Complete

Short Summary: The Cadou sometimes demands very high sacrifices from its host.

A loud humming sound echoed through the long corridors of the old mine, filling the otherwise desolate place with a breath of life. Salvatore eagerly set the little table with the few dishes he still had and placed a carafe with water in the middle of this setting. His eyes studied his work extensively. It was almost perfect, but a small piece was missing. The doctor turned slowly and smiled at the flickering television in the corner. One of his favourite series was currently on airtime, but at the moment he lacked the peace and quiet to enjoy it as usual. He would have a visitor tonight, and until everything was prepared, the man couldn't take a break. Salvatore strolled to the remaining cupboard in his possession and meticulously searched the individual compartments. He frowned. Nothing. The Lord stopped humming for a moment and thought hard about where he had last put the item he was looking for. Actually, there weren't that many ways in which his little kingdom could stow things safely. The doctor scratched his balding head in confusion. Groaning, he got down on his knees and rummaged through the lower part of the clunky closet. The man accidentally discovered a little mouse, which began to squeak loudly out of fear of the grotesque figure in front of it. Salvatore smiled gently and reached out his hand to the scared animal, closing his bulging fingers around the small rodent. This wriggled wildly in the unexpected clutch, sniffed excitedly or better afraid in the air. The successful hunter lifted the mammal closer to his face and spoke reassuringly to the tiny creature: “It's okay, my little furry friend. I'm not going to hurt you.” He carried the mouse carefully to the table and sat down on one of the three chairs. Finally he carefully placed the rodent on the plate with the fresh fruit. The animal made a little jump in pure shock, but then seemed grateful to pounce on the food that was offered. The mouse was terribly thin and looked frail. She had probably been sitting helplessly in the closet for some time. Salvatore watched his new friend eat with a small smile on his lips and took a sip of his water. At least the animals in his territory weren't really afraid of him.

The doctor lost himself in his thoughts for a moment until he realized in panic that he wasn't finished with his preparations. He casually apologized to the rodent and rose cautiously, then knelt again in front of the cupboard. His hand took out one object at a time. After a while, his fingers suddenly touched the cool porcelain he was looking for. The man took out the brightly decorated plate and blew once across the smooth surface. A little pile of dust swirled in the air. The Lord was kind of happy about his success in his short journey of finding old treasures and carried the missing dishes to the table. There the mouse was still busy eating. Salvatore placed the children's plate on the ramshackle wood and carefully examined his work. Wonderful. He sat down on the chair again and reached for his glass, draining the rest of the water in one big gulp. The doctor looked at the rodent again with a hint of satisfaction and very slowly stretched out his hand to the animal. This time the mouse wasn't frightened at all. He gently stroked his new friend's thin fur with one finger and whispered softly: “You poor little thing. How long did you have to sit in that dark closet? I'm terribly sorry.” There was a loud rustling. Apparently the reception of the TV got worse again. The man shrugged his shoulders slightly and concentrated on the petite animal on the plate. At least he was well entertained for the moment. Salvatore continued to stroke the rodent tenderly and listened to the usual noises of the mine. He probably wouldn't hear his guest coming. The Lord peered at the wooden board with the sliced cheese and frowned.

It was looking extremely tasty. He shook his head slightly and turned back to the mouse. Sometimes he had to exercise self-control. The animal suddenly looked up, stuck its nose in the air. The doctor leaned closer to the furry rodent and whispered calmly: “Well, did you hear something? Maybe this is our special guest. Shall I have a look?” The man swayed slightly and was about to leave for the entrance of the mine when he recognized a familiar shadow on the stonewall. In the next moment Donna strolled slowly around the corner, in her arms she held her dearly loved doll Angie. Salvatore looked at his visitor in surprise. She did not wear a mourning veil that evening. The doctor began to smile nervously and greeted the mysterious doll maker: “Good evening, Ms. Beneviento. It is always a pleasure to welcome you to my humble home. Come on, come on. The table is well set.” The woman did not reply to this euphoric request. Instead, the little doll in her arms spoke for her: “That's great. We're really hungry, Moreau.” The Lord laughed in relief and waved his guests inside. He went to the table and pulled back one of the chairs, motioning Donna to sit down. The black-haired woman sat down elegantly and stared at the man with empty eyes. He also adjusted the second chair, put a few empty boxes on the seat and finally asked, visibly excited: “I have prepared a seat for you this time too, Angie. Would you like to sit here today?” The doll turned her head to her creator and opened her mouth over and over again without an audible word. Presumably the two talked animatedly. Salvatore had learned in the meantime not to disturb his visitors during these silent conversations and looked around for the mouse. It was nowhere to be found.

The rodent was probably gone with a piece of sweet pear. The voice of the doll tore the doctor out of his thoughts: "I will gladly accept the offer, Moreau. Can you help me?" The person addressed chuckled happily and carefully held his hands in front of Angie. He did not dare to touch the wooden figure without the permission of her creator. Donna hesitated for a moment, but finally handed the doll to the trustworthy host. He took her almost tenderly and carefully sat her on the prepared chair. Angie looked around happily, fidgeting a little. She squeaked loudly: “Look here, Donna. I have my very own seat this time.” The doll maker actually managed a small smile at this statement. The Lord walked back to his chair and took a seat opposite the quiet woman. He picked up the loaf and divided it into evenly sized pieces. While Salvatore was passing the bread around, he spoke calmly: “Help yourself to everything that seems tasty to you or that invites you to dine with pleasure. Don't be too humble.” Together they began to eat without any hurry. Small conversations with Angie, who had a lot to talk about that evening in particular, continued to arise. Apparently the own seat for the lively doll had been a grandiose idea. The man really enjoyed their company. Usually the loneliness in his territory slowly ate him up and rotten his mind. Donna cleaned her mouth elegantly with a napkin, then placed her cutlery on the lower right of the plate. So she had already finished eating. In general, the doll maker was not a particularly good eater and had occasional dizziness attacks caused by hypoglycaemia. Angie chuckled softly. She had placed her cutlery in the same way as her creator and turned to the host who was still dining: “Donna has thought about your last visit to our house and decided to help you. That's why we brought you something today, Moreau.” The doctor stopped eating for a moment and stared at the doll in confusion. He gently wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, removing most of the loose breadcrumbs on and around his mouth. The Lord asked curiously: “You have brought something for me? What?” The doll maker leaned to one side of her chair and rummaged through an inconspicuous cloth bag, which the man hadn't really noticed before. After a quick search, Donna pulled out a small leather book.

Angie hastily explained: “You told us that you forgot a lot because of the Cadou. Especially how to read. You looked very sad and we decided to teach you how to read again. Then you don't just have to watch TV all day, you can for example continue to write on your research or read a nice novel!” The doctor became a little smaller in his chair. He was clearly embarrassed to have slowly lost this ability. The parasites in his body were taking too much of a toll. Salvatore played with his fingers in embarrassment and stuttered: “You two really want to help me to read again? You won't laugh at me either if I can't pronounce the letters correctly and make endless mistakes?” Both Angie and Donna shook their heads leisurely. The Lords eyes began to shine. He finally nodded in the affirmative and put the cutlery aside his almost empty plate. The doll maker rose from her chair and took it carefully with her as she walked around the table. She sat down next to her kind host. He looked hopefully at the woman, pushed the plate out of the way and waited patiently. Donna put the little book in the empty space and opened it at a leisurely pace, turning without haste to the first chapter. Angie laughed happily and climbed onto the table. She carefully sat down on the wood and looked down at the written page. Then something happened that Salvatore hadn't seen coming. The doll maker put a forefinger on the first line and began to read very slowly and clearly: "Long ago, a young girl went with her mother to pick berries for her father who was hard at work." The man frowned. He looked at the individual letters, tried to process and reproduce what he had heard. Donna smiled gently, read the sentence out loud again for the Lord. The doctor put a few fingers to his forehead and leaned lower to see the sentence better. His voice trembled when he hesitantly began to read: "Lon. Long. Long ago. A gir. A girl."

The woman would occasionally help him pronounce a word when he got too stuck. It took Salvatore almost six minutes to read the first line of the book almost fluently. He blinked slightly and looked up. Probably the two would now start to laugh at him for his stupidity. Angie actually laughed, but her words debilitated the man's suspicions: “That was great, Moreau! You haven't forgotten everything, and that's why you will soon be able to read the whole book without any problems!” He blushed a little at this unusual praise, but could no longer suppress a proud grin. The Lord looked back in the book and tried the next sentence. The doll nodded eagerly to him at this endeavour. Donna accompanied him patiently, and also helped him when he didn't know how to pronounce a word or was unsure. Salvatore was gradually losing his fear and becoming bolder with every correct word. It didn't seem that difficult any more. The doctor finished the second sentence of the fairy tale and laughed happily: “I'm reading, Donna. I'm actually reading!” The doll maker smiled at this statement, but remained silent as usual. Angie, on the other hand, laughed with him and cried out: “You can do it, Moreau! Just don't give up now and keep going! I love this story even more if you read it to me.” The man now seemed to have completely lost his shyness. So after a good twenty minutes he managed to read the first page of the book completely – albeit with occasional errors. He couldn't believe it. The Lord said happily: “I would never have dreamed that I would ever be able to read anything again.” The woman next to him nodded slowly and put her hands on her lap. Her doll replied for her again: “Donna says you can keep the book until you have finished reading it. Then she wants you to give it back to her.” Salvatore was speechless for a moment. He blinked away the emerging tears and replied emotionally: “Ms. Beneviento. How am I ever supposed to thank you for that?” The doll maker said nothing, just put her fragile fingers gently on the bulging back of the doctor's hand.

#Resident Evil 8 #Resident Evil Village #Donna Beneviento #Salvatore Moreau #Cadou #Angie #Doll Maker #Doctor #Books #Friendship #Hurt and Comfort

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80sanime · 4 years

Note

Retro dating sim recommendations?

Hope you don’t mind that most of them are in Japanese! Tokimeki Memorial Girl’s Side 2 remains one of if not THE best otome game imo (and I’m pretty sure there’s an English patch). I also dearly love Ruby Party’s epic Harukanaru Toki no Naka de series (the first and third games are my favorites). Their classic Angelique series is a must-play too (I recommend Special 2 and Trois). Shiritsu Justice Gakuen: Nekketsu Seishun Nikki 2 is a Capcom fighting game with a surprisingly in-depth add-on character builder/dating simulator that lets you date the entire cast, with no exceptions (and how can you pass up the opportunity to date Edayan-designed characters...) Speaking of fighting games! King of Fighters ~Days of Memories~: Kare to Atashi no Atsui Natsu for the Nintendo DS granted my lifelong dream of dating Iori Yagami so I’ll always have a soft spot for it (which reminds me, I still have to set up a Japanese VPN on my phone so I can play King of Fighters For Girls). Princess Maker 4 isn’t technically an otome game, but it has an intricate storyline and romance options with three charming princes (plus your adorable butler) and it isn’t fan-servicey like the other titles in the series (which I also love tbf). Yo-Jin-Bo is also a good one; the art is pretty dated (mid-00s up the wazoo) but it was translated into English and is EXTREMELY funny in addition to having a great cast of characters. What else? Oh... if you’re over 18 and love historical fantasy novels full of bodice-ripping and political intrigue, Oukyuu Yasoukyoku is amazing.

Not an otome game, but I must always recommend Sakura Wars when the topic of dating sims comes up. The original game recently got an English patch I think? The third one which takes place in France in my favorite. They recently rebooted the series but I can’t accept a Sakura Wars installment without Fujishima’s character designs (which is also why I rejected the otome version they did years ago).

Sorry for the wall of text!

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snapefiction · 3 years

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Could I request a Snape x Reader where they are married but she works at a Herbology Shop/Florist and Severus visits (to primarily pick up an order of ingredients for his potions class) and gets a chance to flirt with her? Something super fluffy please ~ love your work!!

A/N: Thank you so much and sure!! Let me know what you think! :)

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Pairing: Severus Snape x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Kissing, Flirting

Word Count: 1163

Working at the little Florist Shop down the road close to the Leaky Cauldron was always your dream. It was so beautiful on every aspect. You were still so close to the wizarding world, could make your hobby your job and still got known to a lot of new People on a daily Basis. Could anything make it even better?

Putting on your apron you quickly slid out your wand to unlock the front door of the shop only to wait for your Co- Worker Josie and your Boss Henry to arrive just five Minutes later. Josie was a young Girl, she freshly graduated at Hogwarts and Henry was an old friendly Man who owned the Shop which he simply named after himself. Henry´s Flowers and Supplies- he got it straight on the point.

Walking behind the Checkout you went straight to the Herbology Section. This was only available for Wizards and Witches as Muggles wouldn’t want to buy dried Frog Legs anyways. Sorting all the new Ingredients you just got delivered you almost got lost of the Track of Time. Throwing away old Cardboxes, advise some Customers, taking care of the flowers growing in your small Greenhouse you could hear Henry talk to the Customers and how the Cashbox rang whenever it got opened and how Josie talked to him about the newest Gossip from her Clique.

Past Lunch as it was almost Time to restock the Flowers at the front of the Shop you still refilled the small Jars in the Herbology Section as you heard your new Co- Worker Josie run towards you.

,,Y/N, He's here. Oh, Merlin. He's here!!" Knowing exactly who she meant you instantly put the Jars down you just held.

,,No way? Which one is it?" You bowed up again and tried to spot the mysterious Quidditch Player she talked about since Months. She pointed to the Boy standing next to the Lilies. He wasn’t looking too bad, he matched her quite well.

,,Do I look okay?" She quickly asked and you couldn't help it but smile widely as you admired her beauty.

,,You look beautiful. Now go talk to him before he changes his mind!" Nodding she quickly took off her Glasses, slid them into her side pocket of her Apron and went up to the front. The brown haired Boy quickly took notice of her as he got suspiciously shy. She talked to him, showing him around the store. He asked her some Questions and they eventually got lost in Smalltalk.

,,She’s so in love with him.“ Henry sighed. ,,Oh, what I’d give to be young again and fall in love with a Quidditch Player.“ He joked as he winked and laughed only to sign me that he’d head home now. Taking over his Place at the Cashier you began to read in the book you borrowed Josie which she left here.

As another Customer came in you read the last sentence of the page only to wipe away some dirt of your cheek and welcome the new Customer with your usual Catchphrase.

,,Hey, welcome at Henry´s Flowers and Supplies. How can I-“ Looking up from the Counter where you quickly laid the Novel aside you spotted your Husband of five years standing in front of you. His black Hair was slightly wet from the rain outside and his Lips presented you a big smile. He still managed to take your Breath away.

,,Actually I just wanted to pick up an Order. But may I tell you that you look beautiful today, dear?“ Smirking he leaned against the Counter. Jokingly he decided to play games with you.

,,Well Thank you, Mr.- ? But I must warn you, don’t attempt to flirt with me.I am a married woman.“ He chuckled. ,,Plus my Husband can become very jealous.“

,,Snape, Severus Snape.“ Blushing you played along with it as he held out his hand to shake yours. ,,Your Husband must be very happy then?“

Shrugging your shoulders you pouted slightly. ,,I hope so. But whenever he’s at work I’m so lonely- I dearly miss him.“ He reached over the Table to lay his hand on your Cheek only to brush his thumb over it.

,,Hmm. I hope he buy you Flowers and treats you right?“ Chuckling you took the Novel you borrowed Josie from aside the Counter and placed it on top to show him the Title: ,All the Flowers in Paris.´

,,And every now and then he buys me my favourite Flowers: Peony´s. I´m Sorry Mr. Snape, but I’m already taken to the best Husband I could ask for.“ He removed his Hand from your face and nodded.

,,Again, what a Pity. But could you at least help me get this Order wrapped up?“ Nodding yourself now you waved him over to lead him to the Herbology Section. Grabbing everything he asked for you tried to play your role but as he finally grabbed your shoulders to turn you around your Lips finally collapsed against each other. Sighing on his Lips you laid your Arms around his neck and he held you close. How you missed him! You saw him every Weekend and could stop by at Hogwarts whenever you felt like it but it still wasn’t enough for you. Thats why the both of you leaned against one of the greenhouses walls and kissed for ages.

,,I missed you, Angel.“ He whispered. ,,Had to see you.“ Chuckling you looked him in the eyes.

,,I love you and I missed you too. You really caught me off guard.“ His Fingers brushed through your hair.

,,After I received your Owl this Morning I knew I had to see you.“ You kissed him again. ,,Also I really needed some Ingredients so it’s a Win-Win.“

He kissed your lips again. He was just like you touch starved. You felt like a Teenager again. Hiding between the Shelves, making out. You truly were a lucky Wife.

,,Y/N! Who was that Man flirting with- Oh my God!“ Josie walking right at you. You let go of Severus. ,,Oh- shit- I´m sorry.“ She swallowed a lump in her Throat and just looked at you with big eyes. Smiling you tried to hide your Blush.

,,Well, uhh- that’s Severus. My Husband.“ You introduced, trying to hold back your laughter as her eyes almost seem to leave her head out of Shock.

,,Professor Snape- Of course- um- hi?“ He just waved and you both watched her hurry away as she was excusing herself with left over work.

,,I bet she wasn’t expecting that.“ He joked and pulled you back closer to him.

,,Of course not. Who’d expect their former Potions Master to kiss their Co-Worker between the Shelves? Especially when she didn’t knew that we are married.“

,,I once spotted Hagrid and Madame Maxime kissing after the Yule Ball, that wasn’t fun either. She will surely survive it.“

,,It simply shocks your Students every time. Now shut up and kiss me.“ You demanded laughing.

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