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mariasont · 2 months

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Our Minds Entwined-----------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12

MDNI-----------------------------------------------------------------

pairings: aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid

summary: in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest, youngest member

warnings: mentions of wet dream, fantasying of 2 guys, oral f receiving, praise, probably more im not sure

A/N: hope you beautiful humans enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

also requests are still open for aaron hotchner and spencer reid & i would love love to write more so shoot me something :)

haappppy readingggg!

chapter eleven:

With a weary slump of her shoulders, Evelyn followed in Hotch's wake, her feet dragging the ground as though shacked by invisible weights. Her eyelids were heavy, drooping in a slow cadence, fighting the lull of sleep that beckoned with each laboring blink. Her lips parted in a slow, drawn-out motion that mirrored the sluggishness of her body. The latte sat in her hand, a supposed ally against the drowsiness, but her yawns betrayed its ineffectiveness as her eyes grew heavier still. The trip had been a marathon of activity--packing, the airport, the plane--all leading to a touchdown in Somerville just as the sun began to rise.

On the way over, Hotch had briefed her on the details of the case. A couple weeks ago, a polyamorous couple--two older men, and their shared partner, a younger woman--were found dead. Then, two days ago another household with the same victimology were killed. The coincidence wasn't lost on Evelyn as her mind wandered to that god forsaken dream that had haunted her since.

And on top of that, throughout the trip, Hotch's silence was a wall between them, broken only by the case details. Despite herself, Evelyn tried to profile him knowing it was wrong. Evelyn replayed the hot tub scene in her mind, a pang of guilt twisting in her gut. She couldn't shake the feeling that she'd crossed a line, even if it was unintentional... right? Her head was a battlefield of jumbled thoughts and creeping doubts, all clamoring for attention. She blamed the fog in her brain on the lack of sleep.

Evelyn, under the weight of Hotch's intent gaze, gave way to a yawn so extravagantly drawn out it seemed less a sign of fatigue and more a playful challenge to his enduring patience.

"Stop staring; it's too early for judgment," Evelyn murmured, her eyes slits of defiance as she ambled after him towards the station. "This is just my face before the caffeine kicks in. It gets better, I promise."

Hotch offered no reply, merely casting a glance over his shoulder at her. The warmth of their close encounter in the hot tub enveloped his thoughts, an unwelcome yet intoxicating recollection. He wrestled with the memory, a guilty pleasure, even as he held the door open for her. Yet, he steeled himself, shoving those dangerous reflections to the back of his mind, all too conscious of the professional boundaries that he dared not to cross.

"Okay, Hotch, I get it, we can't all be as chatty as me with zero sleep. But come on, give me a smile, or at least a grunt," Evelyn coaxed, her laughter not quite reaching her eyes. "Anything to show you're still with us."

There was a pause, a look from Hotch that cut through her words, heavy with unvoiced thoughts, before he turned and walked away, his back a silent command to keep up. Evelyn's expression dimmed, her lips curving into a faint frown as she trailed behind him. The team's warm welcomes echoed around them as they entered the conference room. Evelyn's smile spread across her face, skillfully painted on to mask the twinge of disappointment that Hotch had left.

The moment Spencer's eyes found Evelyn, a soft blush bloomed across her face, and she offered him a smile tinged with complicity, which he mirrored back, a small but significant lift to her mood. The brief contact of Spencer's hand grazing her shoulder as she passed was enough to deepen the shade on her cheeks as she fought to maintain composure.

"How was Miami hot stuff?" Morgan questioned, as his arm sling around her shoulder with a teasing squeeze.

"Hot," Evelyn declared, her hand theatrically waving in front of her face in a mock fan, while her elbow lightly collided with Morgan's side. "Nearly had me seeing stars. Poor Hotch was this close to performing CPR," she said, her words a deliberate prod as her eyes sought out Hotch's, hoping for any form of reaction.

"I'd say it was less about the heat and more about you neglecting to eat properly," Hotch commented dryly, his words carrying a hint of reprimand, but hey at least he was talking.

"Well, we really shouldn't dwell on the past," Evelyn said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Speaking of meals," JJ added, sliding a blueberry muffin towards her with a knowing smile.

"You're a saint, JJ," Evelyn said, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the food. "I'm this close to giving you a thank-you kiss."

"As tempting as that sounds, you can actually thank Hotch for this one," JJ laughed as she nudged her. "He made it clear--no breakfast for you means a mountain of paperwork duties for us."

Evelyn's tension eased a fraction as she shot Hotch a teasing smile, her heart fluttering at the gesture. "Well, sir, rest assured, I strictly adhere to the 'no kissing the boss' clause. It's somewhere in the fine print, right?"

Evelyn's cheeks took a shade of pink at her own words, hanging in the air, laden with the what-ifs she couldn't quite push aside. Hotch's eyes, sharp and discerning, momentarily betrayed him, darting to her lips before he caught himself.

"Agent," he cautioned, his voice low but clear. Evelyn quickly raised her hands, a silent truce, as Hotch redirected his attention to the team. "What do we have?"

"At this rate, they'll be naming the next HR workshop after you," Morgan murmured, barely containing his amusement.

"What if the unsub is part of a group like this themselves and feels wronged by it?" Rossi muses out loud, his fingers tracing thoughtful patterns against the stubble of his chin as he stands, back pressed against the brick wall.

Reid paced slowly around the table, his fingertips grazing a file as he passed. "It's possible," he began, his voice a soft murmur, eyes narrowing slightly. "The specific targeting and overkill suggest a perceived slight or trauma associated with such relationships."

Prentiss gave a firm nod. "Let's not rule out the possibility of the unsub viewing these groups as a threat to their moral or social beliefs."

"The female-centric dynamic could be important too," Evelyn tossed out, her steps halting beside the pictures of the victims.

As she pondered aloud Spencer found himself focuses intently on her face, her nose scrunching ever so slightly in thought--a gesture that drew a fleeting smile from him as he cast his gaze downwards in hopes no one else noticed how he looked at her.

"Maybe the unsub feels wronged by the idea of a woman being the main focus? Or it could be jealously. Someone who wanted into a group like this but was rejected," Evelyn continued.

"Or the opposite," Hotch contemplates, his brow furrowed in thought. "Someone who was in a group and cast out." He pauses, hands clasped as he leaned forward. "Let's dig into the background of the victims and see if there's a common thread."

The conference room was steeped in the day's fatigue, the air heavy with the tang of frustration and the stale scent of coffee. The team had returned from their respective tasks--interviews, crime scenes, and calls--all roads leading to dead ends.

The room's stillness is shattered by Garcia's voice emanating from the screen. "I've got something," she declares, the pixelated glow casting an ethereal light in the dim room. "Both triads belonged to an ultra-elite society known as 'The Labyrinth.' It's like Fort Knox meets Fight club--no one talks about it, and no one gets in without an invite. I mean, you don't even want to know the lengths I went to find this in the first place."

"I mean, if the society is as exclusive as P says," Evelyn begins, her hand sweeping through her hair in a fluid motion. "Then the unsub is likely also part of it or they have resources that could get them information on it."

Garcia's voice bursts through the speaker. "Prepare to be dazzled," she trills, the clatter of her keystrokes punctuating her excitement. "The Labyrinth is rolling out the red carpet for a gala tomorrow night at the old Whitmore Estate. And you, my darlings, are virtually invited to the ball."

Morgan hunches over the table. "So, we need a cover," he states, "We can't just show up at the doorstep and demand to look around; it'll spook the unsub."

"Evelyn and Reid could blend in," Prentiss nods. "They fit the profile of two of the victims. Maybe they can draw the unsub out." Evelyn's eyes widen as she glances towards Spencer.

JJ chimes in, "And maybe Morgan could--"

But Rossi interrupts, shaking his head. "No, the second male victim's profile is different--older, more experienced. It's more Hotch's profile."

A crease forms between Hotch's eyes, a shadow of concern etching his features as his protective instincts surge to the forefront, coupling with a deep-seated unease about the unfolding plan. A delicate warmth crept up Evelyn's cheeks, her pulse quickening at the thought. The idea of going undercover with Hotch and Reid, a scenario plucked straight from her wet dream, sends a shiver down her spine and her thoughts into a tailspin. She opens her mouth, to joke it off, but it dissolves into a muddled string of half-formed words, leaving her with a bashful silence.

Hotch's words falter, a rare hesitation flickering across his usually impassive features. "I'm not sure if this is the best course of action--,"

Emily interjected swiftly, her words slicing through Hotch's protest. "Hotch, we may not get another shot at this. Using you three as bait isn't ideal, but it might be the only way to corner our unsub."

Hotch's eyes settle on Spencer, who gives a firm nod. His gaze than shifts to Evelyn, and though he resists the urge to analyze, the rosy flush of her skin and the accelerated pace of her breath betray her feelings. It's a jarring contrast to the professional distance he's been striving for. Hotch's nod was there, almost imperceptible, but the frown that follows is deeply etched, a clear sign of his disapproval despite his acceptable.

The room hums with a focused energy as the team pores over digital and paper archives alike, each article detailed events like this and of the couples who frequent. Garcia curates a comprehensive collection of profiles detailing the Labyrinth and its attendees, while JJ and Morgan sift through social media for the gala's guest list. In a corner, Spencer and Rossi huddled over a cluttered desk examining the blueprint of the Whitmore Estate.

Meanwhile, in a makeshift office provided by the local police chief, Hotch and Evelyn are deep in study. The walls, now a gallery of whiteboards, are dense with the scribbled complexities of polyamorous relationships and the backgrounds of the victims.

"I've come across open relationships in case studies, but an entire society? That's a statistical outlier if I ever heard one--Spence would have a field day with those odds." Evelyn says with a soft shake of her head.

A faint arch forms in Hotch's brow, a muted signal of surprise to the informal reference of Reid. Catching the lift of Hotch's brow, Evelyn quickly adds, "You know, Hotch, the silent treatment isn't going to work when we're undercover," she started with a tilt of her head. "You've going to have to convince everyone we're together soon, remember? So, you might want to start practicing liking me now."

"I'm not giving you the silent treatment, Evelyn." Hotch remarks, his countenance flat, eyes reflecting any readability.

"Sure, if you say so," Evelyn replied, her eyes thin slits of skepticism. "But if you're not up for this, Rossi could step in. We need to be believable, or people could get hurt."

"That's not going to happen," Hotch assets, his gaze unwavering, the firm set of his jaw sending a flutter to Evelyn's core. "I've played the part before; I can do it again."

"Then what are you so worried about?"

"I just want you to remember boundaries, Evelyn." Hotch reminds. "The seriousness of this cannot be understated, and I need to know your focus will be on the right aspects of the plan."

Hotch could see the subtle crumble of her face, the faint twitch of hurt that flickered across her features. She masked it swiftly, her voice laced with feigned indifference. "Understood. I'll try to keep my inevitable swooning over your pretend affections to a minimum, sir." The lightness of her words contrasted sharply with the hurt in her eyes, and Hotch felt an immediate ache in his stomach for causing it.

"Evelyn, that's not--" Hotch's voice trailed off, the hardness in his eyes giving way to a rare vulnerability. His fingers twitched with the need to reach out, to smooth away the creases of pain from her expression, but the opportunity slipped away as Rossi emerged at the door.

"Hotch, can I see you for a second?" he asked, gesturing subtly with his head.

Hotch offered a silent nod, his gaze holding Evelyn's for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes etching a mental image of her--the tilt of her head, the unresolved tension in her shoulders, before he reluctantly turned to follow Rossi. Spencer, shadowing Rossi's steps, pauses at the threshold, his gaze fixed on the departing figures. With a soft click of the door closing, he turns, the hush of the room settling around him as he turns to Evelyn.

He steps behind her, his hands coming to rest gently upon her shoulders. Evelyn tips her head back, her eyes lifting to meet his. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and soothing.

Evelyn's laughter bubbled up, slicing through the heavy air. "Had a moment with Hotch. Pretty sure he was subtly hinting that I keep my feelings in check as if I'm incapable of that."

Spencer's lips curled into a half-smile, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Hotch tends to get a bit tense with these high-stakes operations," he reasoned, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on her shoulders, easing the knots.

Evelyn melts into the warmth of his hands. "That feels good," she sighs, her head gently reclining in contentment. "And tell me about. I'm the one who's going to be all up on my boss and coworker. Talk about awkward."

The thought of sharing Evelyn with Hotch sent an unbidden rush of blood straight to his cock, a visceral response that caught him off caught. He clears his throat, a subtle cover for the fleeting thought that, perhaps, the idea isn't as disconcerting as it should be.

"At least with you I don't have to pretend."

"I don't know, I think additional practice might be beneficial." Reid says, his fingers edging closer to the delicate skin of Evelyn's neck, prompting an involuntary hitch in her breath. "My room tonight? Purely for preparation purposes, of course."

"Dr. Reid, w-what are you suggesting?" Evelyn managed to tease out, despite the gentle pressure of his hand on her pulse point making her senses swim and her focus waver.

He leaned in, his head tilting to plant a gentle kiss in the hollow of her neck. "You're smart enough to deduce it," he murmured softly against her skin, the words almost a sigh, "missed you."

A giggle escaped Evelyn, and she nimbly evaded his grasp. "Spencer, we're practically inviting an audience at this rate."

"Which is precisely why I'm saving it for later, just wanted you to give you a preview, sweetheart."

The remainder of the day unfolded without incident, with Evelyn buried under a towering pile of research papers, its weight causing a dull throb behind her eyes. Every detail was meticulously arranged for tomorrow--the tickets secured, the outfits chose, the escape routes mapped. However, no degree of preparation could quell the fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach. This is precisely what led Evelyn to Spencer's hotel door, perched anxiously, her knocks rapid and insistent, her gaze sweeping the corridor for onlookers.

The door finally creaked open, and Evelyn breezed inside, her voice a soft tease, "Took you long enough." Spencer, with a quick glance over his shoulder, closed the door with a silent snap.

Spencer's laughter echoed through the room, a carefree sound that made Evelyn pause. "Sorry, I was in the shower," he said, a sheepish grin on his face.

It was then that Evelyn really looked at him--his hair damp and tousled, clinging to his forehead, chest bare, skin dotted with water beads that caught the light, the soft material of his pajama pants hanging from his hips. Her eyes lingered, almost hypnotized by the sight, and rendered mute.

Evelyn's lips parted, ready to unleash a clever comeback, yet only a soft, airy giggle escaped. Without thinking, her arms encircled him, her heart thudding erratically from the sheer nearness of him.

His fingers tenderly framed her face, his laughter a comforting hum. "Evelyn, you're going to get all wet," he teased, thumb softly grazing her cheek.

"That's what I'm counting on," Evelyn replies, a coy smile on her lips as she lets her hands wander down his chest, her fingers flirting with the edge of his pants. "I believe I was promise there would be a rehearsal on the agenda this evening."

"Mmm, is that what you want baby?" He questioned teasingly, his hand guiding her gaze to his with a soft tug at her locks. "Be the good girl I know you are, get undressed, and get on the bed."

Evelyn's eyes sparkled with anticipation, her feet barely touching the ground as she hurried to the bed. Her gaze locked with his and with deliberate care, she pinched the hem of her shirt, swiftly gathering the fabric and sending is flying across the room in a fluid motion before she attended to her pants. His eyes followed her every move as he inhaled a sharp breath, his thumb brushing against his bottom lip. Her gaze followed down to his pajama pants and the tent that was growing within them, excitement growing in her chest.

She carefully turned her back towards him as she hooked her thumbs around her pants and underwear letting them drop to the floor. She crawled on to the bed, arching her back in an exaggerated motion, giving Spencer a full glance at her glistening pussy. She turned quickly, resting on her elbows as she smiled sweetly at Spence who was all but drooling at the sight.

"You're so good sweetheart," Spencer exhaled, each step towards the bed measured, the corners of his mouth lifting at her eagerness, "so pretty."

Evelyn's legs instinctively clasped together in a silent plea for relief as a wave of warmth surged through her cheeks and pussy.

"Take this off, baby," Spencer commanded, the sound of his tongue clicking in disapproval as his fingers drummed a soft rhythm against the material of her bra, "Wanna see all of my beautiful girl."

She quickly complied, sitting up just enough to unclasp the pesky thing. His large hands splayed over the expanse of her thighs, coaxing them open as he settled between them, his gaze penetrating as her tits bounced out of the cups of the bra. "God, you're so pretty sweetheart."

A soft moan escaped Evelyn's lips as she squirmed on the mattress, "Spencer, need you."

Spencer let out a soft chuckle, his hand moving closer to her heat, fingers tracing back and forth in a tantalizing motion. "Gonna take such good care of you baby."

His thumb began to rub slow circles on her swollen clit, Evelyn's breath hitched, her hands frantically searching for something to grasp on to, landing on his wet curls. He teased her slowly, his fingers moving across her soaked folds. Evelyn felt as though she could see stars as she watched Spencer begin to plant soft kisses up her thighs, getting closer and closer to where she wanted him.

She jutted her hips off the mattress, her fingers curling around his hair as if to move him towards her throbbing cunt. "Evelyn, patience teaches us to regulate our emotions. Neurologically speaking, it's linked to serotonin levels in the brain, did you know that pretty girl?"

"Spencer, please, baby put that good mouth to use."

Spencer let out a soft laugh before placing his mouth to her clit, sucking as if it were his full-time job. The moan that released from her was loud and unrestrained, her body thrusting against his mouth. His tongue curled into her, eating her out like it was his last meal on earth.

"Need you to be quiet, baby. Hotch is on the other side of this wall, don't want him hearing you, do you?" Spencer asked, his voice muffled. "Or maybe you do? Is that what you want? You want Hotch to know how I treat this pussy?"

Evelyn's body trembled with pleasure, her hands grasping against the cool sheets as if to steady herself. His hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her closer as if to suffocate himself between them. "I-I,"

His tongue lapped greedily through Evelyn's folds, her cunt trembling against the pressure as broken moans escaped her lips. He met her eyes, peering up from his position devouring her aching pussy.

"Spencer I-oh, fuck, I'm so close," Evelyn moaned out, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she humped against his face, his nose brushing against her clit every so often. "I can't, I'm gonna-"

A knock at the door caused Spencer's motion to freeze, a panicked gasp releasing from Evelyn's lips as her orgasm dissipated into thin air.

"Reid, are you up?" Hotch's voice, firm and unexpected, pierced the silence. Evelyn's mind was a whirlwind of foggy thoughts, her body reacting before her brain could catch up. Beside her, Spencer's limbs flailed in a hasty attempt to feign alertness, both like deer caught in headlights.

"Oh my god," Evelyn hissed, her hands flying to shield herself. She leaped from the bed, her eyes darting desperately around the room for her scattered clothes.

"Just a second!" Spencer called to Hotch. Meanwhile, Evelyn snatched the nearest shirt, one of Spencer's and yanked it over her head. It was a clumsy dance, one that nearly ended with her sprawled on the floor, tripping over the bulky obstacle of his go-bag. "Get under the bed."

"Under the bed?" Evelyn's voice was a hushed blend of disbelief and urgency. Spencer returned her gaze with an unwavering stare. "God, you're lucky you're so good with that scholarly mouth of yours."

"Radio waves... they're the longest wavelengths in the electromagnetic spectrum," Spencer began, his voice a low hum as he paced the confines of the room. "First predicted by Maxwell in 1864," he continued, more to himself than to Evelyn. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "And they--"

He was cut off as Evelyn interjected. "Spencer, why are you giving me a physics lesson right now?"

"I'm trying to, uh... calm down."

Evelyn's gaze traced the path of Spencer's, her eyes light up at the sight of the tent still evident in his pants. A soft giggle escaped her lips, a delicate sound in the quiet room. Their eyes met once more, and she exhaled a prolonged, "Oh," the syllable stretching out as brought a hand to her mouth.

"Just get under the bed."

Evelyn's laughter was a soft echo, quickly muffled as she deftly maneuvered herself under the bed. Her breath caught in her throat, the only sound the creak of the door swinging open.

Spencer was met by Hotch, his figure framed by the hallway's dim light. "Reid, can I come in?"

With a subtle clearing of his throat, Spencer managed a casual tone, "Uh, yeah, sure, of course."

He swung the door fully open, his expression carefully schooled into one of practiced composure. Hotch stepped over the threshold, his eyes sweeping over the room. Spencer's gaze flitted after his, a silent prayer of gratitude that the room bore no trace of Evelyn's clothes.

"I just wanted to talk to you about tomorrow," Hotch stated, his voice betraying none of the scrutiny his eyes had just performed.

"Sure, what's up?" Spencer asked, the words slightly pinched at the edges, his voice climbing a register.

Hotch's arms locked across his chest like a barrier. "This undercover operation is delicate, and we can't afford any... complications."

Spencer swallows hard, his eyes darting to the bed for a fleeting second. "Of course, I understand."

With a casual lean against the desk, Hotch's features relaxed just perceptibly. "I know you understand, but it's not just about the operation. It's about perception too. Evelyn's already under a bit of scrutiny."

An awkward cough escaped Spencer, a clumsy veil over the tension he felt, knowing well that Evelyn hung on every word. "Right," he responded, an unspoken understanding that they were discussing her father.

"Gideon set a high bar, and it's clear Evelyn is rising to meet it," Hotch begins, his voice steady, a tinge of pride in his tone. "She's carved out her own space on this team, a fact we all recognize. But rumors don't always favor the truth, and any suggestion of her involvement with another agent could be damaging..."

"There's nothing unprofessional going on, Hotch," Spencer quickly countered, his voice a swift defense.

Hotch raised a hand, a gesture of pause and consideration. "I'm not accusing you of anything," he clarified, his voice firm yet fair. "I'm just asking you to exercise caution," he articulated. "For her sake. She has a bright future, and it shouldn't be jeopardized by baseless chatter."

Under the bed, Evelyn's brain was in overdrive, dissecting every word, her mouth suddenly dry.

"I understand."

"Good," Hotch affirmed with a supportive squeeze on Spencer's shoulder. "Goodnight, Reid."

"Yeah, you too."

taglist: @aceofspades190 @nonamevenus @lukesaprince @doigettokeepyou @tequilya @carley12041 @satellitelh @greatdinosaursalad @malewife-cas

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x oc x aaron hotchner #reverse harem #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #aaron hotchner fic #Spotify #spencerreidfanfic #spencer reid x original character #aaron hotchner x original character #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch

180 notes · View notes

nogenderbee · 7 months

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Hi again, can I request u, w, z from yandere alphabet for Rui please??

Hello! Of course!

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕌, 𝕎, ℤ ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Rui U, W, Z yandere alphabet

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ TW: yandere, stalking, unhealthy obsession, mentions of killing, mentions of tortures, mentions of manipulating, kidnapping and keeping against ones will, mental breakdown

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bleachtheidiot @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @indi-has-fallen

✧ Unsure = How much trust they have in you? What happens if you break it?

Rui would love to say he trusts you and he often tries to convince himself he does but the thought of you leaving him just doesn't want to let go.

He'll definitely not have any trust when you're around other people, maybe he won't stick by your side but he'll at least keep an eye on you. And when your actions include going somewhere without him, he'll let you go because he does trust you but he'll be extremely anxious and may send robot to follow you in the end.

If you do leave him or attempt to, he'll immidietly loose all of his trust for you even if it's one time situation. Of course he'll give you a chance to explain yourself but he'll still be suspicious about your every action. Once you break his trust, he'll follow you everywhere, and if he doesn't he'll always keep an eye on you one way or another. Maybe he won't interrogate you about whatever you did but you can be sure, he'll discover the truth himself and good luck explaining it to him then.

"My darling... could you tell me what were you doing with them AGAIN? You don't have any hidden intentions, right?"

✧ Welcome = Let's say they're Yandere for you but you never had your first meeting... How do they initiate it?

Rui would actually be too nervous to initiate the meeting. Of course he tried... but every time he got close to you, he began panicking and walked past you, pretending it was his path all along.

So your first meeting was actually a pure coincidence! He was just following you like always, he just looked around him to make sure no one's being suspicious of him but also to make sure you're all safe and sounds! That's when he bumped into you because he wasn't looking where he's going...

Of course he outplays it as a simple accident and his act of clumsiness. But he also treats it like a sign from heavens so he doesn't just walks off! Instead, he'll initiate a small talk with you to maybe get your number or your name (as if he didn't already knew your name...) and tries anything that will lead to you spending more time together but isn't intrusive about it either.

"O-Oh! I-I'm terribly sorry! Are you alright? Maybe... I can walk you to the nurse office? Just in case..."

✧ Zealous = If everything fails, will they be able to kill their partner?

Rui would not be able to kill you. He may eventually resolve to torturing you but he wouldn't be able to take your life away. Of course he gets those thoughts and he was close to doing it... he might've even come close to you with a knife and was about to do it, but then he saw that look in your eyes and he just couldn't bring himself to finish his action.

He'll eventually force you to stay with him whether you want it or not. It's enough for him if you pretend at this point, he just want's you close. And as time goes, he may even force himself to think it's all fine and that you're like this out of your own will! But he'll definitely have a bit of a breaking moment whenever you ask or try to run away.

"I-I can't... I can't let you go this way or another... I'm sorry..."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

#project sekai #colorful stage #project sekai colorful stage #x reader #project sekai x reader #colorful stage x reader #project sekai colorful stage x reader #rui kamishiro #rui kamishiro x reader #project sekai rui kamishiro #project sekai rui x reader #yandere #alphabet #yandere alphabet

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genocidehim · 1 year

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Leonel having a crush on the shy bookworm that brings books/reads to seniors at the retirement home

notes: gender neutral, soft, fluff. words: 625

During one of the visits from the brothers at Casa Tranquila, they coincided with your arrival at the nursing home while carrying several boxes stacked on top of each other and maneuvering to carry them all at once. As you were about to enter through the main door, you noticed this pair of stoic men who seemed to have the same intention of entering through the door, so you decided to give them space and let them go in first. However, as you took a step back, one of the boxes swung and threatened to fall to the ground, but luckily it was quickly caught by one of the men who were at the door. The shorter of the two held the box with both hands while looking at you with a serious expression on his face. As seconds passed and silence seemed to be the only protagonist, you instantly understood that he intended to help you carry the box. You smiled and entered through the door as both followed behind you.

"Good to have you here, dear! I didn't know you were bringing books this month." The nursing home receptionist stopped you before you could enter the main room. The woman looked at you for a few seconds and then at the pair of men behind you. She knew them, but didn't understand why one of them was helping you with the boxes.

"Some residents asked me for several books the last time I came. I just came to stock the shelves."

"Very well, darling, go talk to Sarah so she can open the library for you." The woman smiled kindly at you and then turned her attention to the pair of men at your side. It was not necessary for her to ask for their names or who they were visiting, nor was it necessary to exchange words because she knew they wouldn't understand her.

"Perfect! Thank you."

You entered the elderly residence and the white noise from the television flooded your ears, followed by greetings from the elderly residents who welcomed you with affection and happiness. Before continuing to walk, you turned around to see the brothers and noticed them there silently observing you. The one who had helped with the box lifted his face slightly to indicate that he was paying attention to you.

"Can you help me take the box to the library? It'll just take a second, I won't take up more of your time."

Your question stunned the man who was looking at you with some seriousness. Perhaps you thought he was willing to help because you just gave a nervous laugh and began to walk towards the library area, seconds later you heard his boots following you while the other man headed to another area of the place.

You asked Sarah for help, and she gave you the keys to the library, a small room full of books and empty shelves. It wasn't a very busy place, but it was available to anyone who wanted to read.

"Put the box on that table, I can take care of the rest," you said with a shy smile on your face, but immediately noticed that he still didn't understand your request because he was just standing there silently watching you.

"Uh… Do you speak English?"

He shook his head in response, at least he could understand you a little bit.

"¿Español?"

"Sí."

For some reason, your body reacted to hearing his deep voice. You didn't expect it, it was so brief and intense that your eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Uh... Yo no sé mucho español... ¿Poder dejar la caja en la mesa?"

You felt somewhat embarrassed by your mediocre Spanish and had the need to lower your ashamed face and apologize while laughing.

But you felt attacked when he smiled at you just a little and nodded, leaving the box on the table before returning his gaze to you.

"¿Necesitas ayuda para guardar los libros?" This time his voice filtered into you with more intensity, there was something in his way of speaking that made you tremble.

"Ah… Sí, sí. Ayuda!"

To Leonel's eyes, you were a cute little thing that was genuinely causing his tough appearance to break in order to express how much he enjoyed your presence. He had seen you long before your interaction and had since become interested in you. You were a little mouse hiding in the library while you entertained yourself by organizing and offering books to the residents. When he saw you that day at the door, he acted out of sheer pleasure when he offered to help you carry the boxes, even when you spoke to him and he didn't understand, Leonel liked listening to you quite a bit. Normally, he didn't like hearing that language in any situation, but your voice was pretty enough to want to hear you.

He helped you take out the books and put them on the shelves, you gave him small directions with your hands and he didn't hesitate to follow them, meanwhile he superficially looked at the books and tried to recognize the covers of several he had already read in Spanish.

"Do you like to read?… Leer?" You asked as you walked past him to put some books on the shelf where he was standing. Leonel watched you with sweetness as he saw a smile struggling to show on his lips. He nodded and showed you a particular book; Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind. You saw the book, then his expression and didn't hesitate to let out a sweet laugh that he found to be the most adorable thing he had ever heard.

"Oh… I didn't know such a serious man could like historical novels" you said to yourself while you couldn't wipe that smile off your face. "Muy bueno"

Leonel nodded and put the book back on the shelf, feeling somewhat affected by the sweetness of your gaze and your beautiful smile.

He had truly fallen in love and couldn't express it in words.

#better call saul x reader #breaking bad x reader #bcs x reader #better call saul #breaking bad #leonel salamanca #leonel salamanca x reader

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chlorine-tangerine · 11 months

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Why Lucy Gray's Snake was no Coincidence

(Spoilers for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes)

Hello, I'm back with another tBOSAS meta post since my last one did so well (thanks again!). I've seen the finale chapter discussed a lot, and Lucy Gray's scarf and snake was a particularly big topic on both Tumblr and Reddit. It was pretty clear for me, and so I shall offer up my rationale for it.

I first have to address the elephant in the room: the book is written in Coryo's perspective, and since he's the most paranoid bitch ever, he always assumes the worst about people, including his beloved Lucy Gray. Coryo definitely thinks the scarf was a trap. But we wouldn't know what really went through Lucy Gray's mind unless we had a reliable third person narrator.

However, we can use clues to infer what happened. so below is my interpretation. We know that Lucy Gray is smart; she was a victor, and Coryo reminds himself of this: "No, Lucy Gray was no lamb. She was not made of sugar. She was a victor." She was capable of poisoning puddles of water subtly enough in the arena, she knows where the snakes are, so this is a sign that Lucy Gray may have placed that trap on purpose.

Next, we have the scarf Coryo gave to Lucy Gray. As a Covey who travelled between districts and knows her way in the forests, we can be certain that Lucy Gray wore the scarf on purpose and not just on a whim. Her reasoning was that she didn't want Coryo to lose her, but I'm choosing to believe that's just a passing comment she made. The scarf was not only laid across briars, it was also in a "small clearing canopied by trees". This seems like Lucy Gray was setting the scene up with the clearing, the strategically placed scarf, and the snake.

The snake. Coryo was so on edge and frightened by the snake bite that he immediately came to the conclusion that Lucy Gray had a murderous intent. We as readers had no idea if the bite was venomous either, only to find out that it wasn't harmful at all after Coryo returned to the camp.

From these three clues it's obvious to me that Lucy Gray found out about Sejanus and knew she had to flee. She knew how smart Coryo is and that he's armed with a gun, so she had to buy herself some time and got to trap setting. She definitely didn't have the intent to kill, since she could've found a venomous snake, but assuming she still had affection for Coryo, she just wanted to get as far away as possible from him and not deal him too much harm.

To assume that the snake and scarf were placed there conveniently, that Coryo opened fire based on nothing, is to undermine Lucy Gray's intelligence a little bit. I've seen people criticize Lucy Gray's character and call her bland or a Mary Sue, but it's her last defiance against Coryo that made me really love her character.

As always, discussions welcome!

#the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #rachel writes things

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starpirateee · 2 months

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The price of magic (2)

@holloweaneweek day 7 - happy ending

This is part two of this prompt here

Warnings: none / read on AO3 here

Holloway didn't think she'd ever know the feeling of having her memory stripped from her, no matter the capacity. But, as the light from the candle faded out, she took a breath, seeing it hanging in the air in a fine mist. Her eyes closed for a long second, and she felt something she couldn't identify wash over her mind. It felt like relief, like being released from something that had a hold of her.

By the time she opened her eyes again, the only thought remaining about the night that had transpired was why she was standing in an alleyway next to the old newspaper building, staring at a dumpster.

Maybe she’d seen something on her way home…

Whatever it was, it was gone now. She was alone in this alley.

The next morning was a cold yet inviting Friday. Holloway pushed open the door to her diner, ready to open up for the earliest crowd. She was more than used to this routine by now. It had been the same way as long as she could remember; open up shop early, start working on the batch baking before the bigger groups started arriving, and welcome in the early morning crowd.

One of the first people to arrive was a man who pulled up to the parking lot out front in a beaten up old station wagon. With just a glance, she noticed a large cardboard box in his passenger seat, filled with what looked to her like files, neatly packed into manila envelopes and stacked side-by-side until the box was almost full. She watched him intently as he sauntered in through the front door, neatly closing it behind him.

“You must be the famous Miss Retro, huh?” As he made his way towards her, a charming smile worked its way onto his face. He leaned forwards slightly, his elbows resting against the edge of the countertop. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh really? Nothing bad, I hope?” She hummed, curious. Regulars to the diner were one thing, getting to know and recognise faces as people weaved in and out of the doors on a daily basis. But to find herself in the company of someone new, that was even more exciting.

“Not usually. They say you make one hell of a pie…”

“You'd have to come back a little later for that one, then you can see for yourself if the rumours are true.”

He nodded, as if he was fully planning on holding her to that. “Depends if you can also make a mean coffee,” he answered, all too teasingly.

It was barely six am. He was the first face she'd seen all day, and it was likely the same the other way around. How could he manage to muster this much social energy at this time? She found it more than a little endearing, how cheerful he seemed.

“I think I can do that for you, sure,” she smiled. “How d’you take it?”

“White, please. Hold the sugar.”

Just like her.

Little coincidences like that brightened her day that little bit more. At least his order would be easy to remember if ever she saw him again. She gestured for him to take a seat as she turned around to make his drink, and he slipped onto one of the closest stools.

“Lotta files in that car of yours,” she remarked, making the more obvious of observations in an attempt to strike up a conversation. “What’s the story? Cop? Detective?”

“International super spy,” he answered smoothly. Alarmed, her gaze darted over her shoulder, and she caught his amused expression for a second before he burst out laughing. “No, nothing that interesting, I'm afraid. I'm a social worker.”

“That's exactly what an international super spy would say, too,” she teased as she turned back to the coffee machine.

“... Is it?”

“Everyone needs an alibi!”

“Shit. Well, there goes my cover… gotta think of something else now!”

She laughed. He really was a charmer, wasn't he? It wasn't very often a guy like him came about, and already she found herself absolutely enraptured by him. There was a tiny voice in the back of her head telling her not to get her hopes up, but at the moment, she could barely hear it.

“Well, here's your coffee, agent,” She neatly slipped the mug across the counter, and his awaiting hand wrapped around it slowly. Clearly, when she’d registered the cold that morning, she hadn’t registered just how cold it was. But, the stranger looked instantly relieved to have something to combat the chill.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he mused, staring into the swirls of colour in the mug. “Looks like that storm hit us faster than we thought it would… You know that means we’re probably gonna be snowed in by tomorrow, right?”

“I know,” Holloway frowned, having caught the back end of the morning weather report. “This place is gonna see a huge drop in the next few days, if it’s as bad as people are saying…”

Duke took a sip from the coffee he was holding onto. It was a relieving warmth that ran all the way down his throat, and made the outside chill seem less of a prevalent force. “You really do make a mean coffee… Is that cinnamon?”

“You seemed like the type for a little something extra, and I’m rarely wrong when it comes down to it.” A charming smile graced her face. Regulars, she had no problem with, but this guy was a complete longshot. But he was easy enough. She’d have to remember that one. Just make a coffee that she would order herself.

“You can just… Tell how someone takes their coffee?” He asked, amused.

“Not usually, but you take your order like I do, so I thought that extra little touch would do you a world of good.”

“Mhm, I think you’ve converted me.” He chuckled. At that moment, the door’s bell tinkled, and he absently glanced back towards the couple that had just walked in. Recognising the woman, he raised a hand in greeting, and watched her give a rather enthusiastic wave in return.

Holloway busied herself with taking the first of the batch bakes out of the oven, replacing them with the next lot, and then heading beyond the counter to take the couple’s orders.

In that time, Duke managed to drain the mug of coffee. He really wished he could stay for longer, but he’d only come in for a quick fix before work, and duty really did call. So, not wanting to leave without another world, he grabbed a napkin and scribbled her a note, then paperclipped a $5 to the back because he didn’t think to look for a tip jar amongst the various things on the counter.

In all honesty, she didn’t hear him leave. The morning rush always seemed to come at once, so she couldn’t discern one instance of the door opening from another. All she knew was that he was there one minute, and then gone when she next turned around. While that was rather disappointing, she noticed the scribbled on napkin out of the corner of her eye, and went to go check it out.

Sorry I had to leave on such short notice, business calls. The agency won’t wait for me forever… I could’ve talked to you all day, but I’m pretty sure someone or other would’ve killed me for that. You seem great, though, and I’d love to talk to you again sometime, maybe over the snowstorm?

Think about it, maybe?

-Douglas.

The smooth bastard had even left his number. Holloway chuckled to herself and carefully folded the napkin into her pocket.

–

Somewhere in places unknowable, an old entity watched on from the cosmos. She was doing really well on no memory of who she used to be. Already, she’d met that man, and already they were hitting it off like they’d never forgotten each other.

It was infuriating. She was absolutely thriving. And he hated to admit that she was right about not needing her magic…

–

Just like Douglas predicted, the snowstorm only worsened. People started coming in brushing flakes off their jackets and out of their hair. The sky was completely white, and every time she looked out of the window, the blanket of snow seemed to grow larger and larger against the wall.

She closed early, and thanked the powers above that she’d driven to work that day. By the time she made it home, cold and miserable, she had only one thing on her mind.

She unfolded the napkin and picked up the phone. It rang for a while, and she tapped her fingers against the wall as she waited. Just at the moment she thought she wasn’t going to get an answer, there was a click on the other side of the line.

“Uh- yeah, hello? Hold on, Holly, I won’t be long…”

She briefly wondered who Holly was, but then immediately decided not to dwell on it, however curious it made her. “Hey, is this… Douglas?”

“Douglas, huh? Sure, who’s askin’?” Before she could think to give an answer that would make sense to him, he seemed to click to something. “Wait, wait, I know who this is! Miss Retro, right? From this morning?”

“How did you guess?”

“Nobody actually calls me just Douglas. Everyone who phones in either gives my full name, Mr Keane, or… Duke. I left Douglas as a kinda calling card, so I’d know when you called.”

“Smart. So it’s… Duke, then?”

“Douglas feels weirdly formal now, y’know?” He chuckled, and she heard him take a seat. “I’m just Duke. That’s more than fine. What about you, huh? I walked out without getting your name…”

The way his voice sounded reminded her of someone she swore she used to know, but she couldn’t place it for the life of her. He was at once familiar and unknowable, and the only annoying part was that she couldn’t place where she’d heard a voice like his before. “Holloway. Marisa Holloway.” She’d never felt so nervous about giving her name before, and she didn’t even know why she felt like that. It was just a name!

“... Beautiful,” he muttered all the same, which did a little to relieve those weird nerves she was feeling over absolutely nothing. “Well, Marisa, how’s business looking? You must be pretty bored if you’re calling me before you close…”

“”I closed early,” she admitted, twirling the phone cord around her finger. “Otherwise, I’m about convinced that I would’ve never gotten out.”

Duke did have a brief moment where he stopped to question why she’d rang him from a landline if she was at home. Was this the number he was going to save for her? He supposed it would be a good idea, after all, she’d rang him, and if she’d wanted him to have another number- or a mobile- then she’d have called him from that, surely. “Probably for the best. They’re laying us off tomorrow, this thing shows no sign of stopping.” He sighed. “And, to think, we were in for a good run.”

The next day was exactly the same thing. Holloway managed to keep herself busy, but for most of the day, her mind was set on Douglas- on Duke. She didn’t know an awful lot about him, but that made him all the more fascinating. She planned on making it her mission to know as much about him as possible, and she had his number now too, so that was a mission that she chose to accept gladly.

By the time the storm died down, she'd figured out that he was the kind of person that she could find a real friend in, and had satiated her curiosity for long enough to finally ask about Holly. An ageing ginger cat was not on the list of things she expected, but she was rather pleasantly surprised to hear it.

The next time the two of them reconvened was the other side of the weekend, the Monday immediately after the storm. Duke trudged in through the diner door, kicking the remainder of the sludge off his boots. It wasn't as early as it had been last time, and the place was already half full of awaiting patrons. He found a spot on the barstools, and the moment she noticed him, she made her way over.

“Heya, Duke.” She smiled, lifting the hand that wasn't occupied in greeting.

“Hiya, Marisa!”

People called her by her name all the time. But, for some reason, when Duke did it, she felt her heart swell with delight.

#holloweane week #holloweaneweek #duke keane #miss holloway #starkid #void offering #writing this part two was so much fun!!#these two deserve more happy endings fr #holloweane week 2024 #holloweane week day 7

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commonmexicanname · 4 months

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We were told visually that Aziraphale would become the Supreme Archangel

When we are first introduced to Aziraphale and Crowley, they are facing the right side of the screen, what a lot of us link to being east. Makes sense since he's guarding the eastern gate.

But Az is on the left and after this, Az faces the left side of the screen. From their introduction, he's almost always to the left or facing the left side of the screen.

"Yes, the angel is always on the left. We've known that! It's supposed to represent the angel being on your left shoulder."

Right, but you know what else is represented on the left?

I can't claim that this was all done on purpose from the very beginning, but it was fun finding this. We were shown from the very beginning that Aziraphale would replace Gabriel and become the Supreme Archangel.

Then again, it could all have just been a coincidence.

What do the hands of God mean?

I asked myself the same thing! Welcome to the brain rot religious rabbit hole portion of this post. Running away is encouraged.

When I found this connection, I decided to delve a little deeper to see what exactly are the symbolisms and meanings behind the left hand of God. I was hoping to see if there was anything about being the left hand of God was somehow connected to Aziraphale and could give us a fun "this is sooo him" description. Kinda like getting the results of a personality test!

Spoiler alert, there isn't much to go off on:

The left hand is paradoxical, you say? It works in indirect and subtle ways? Almost sounds like the actions and decisions of a certain angel! It was a good start, until I kept going.

I couldn't find a lot of bible quotes about the left hand of God. What I did find were people's thoughts and interpretations of the left hand. There wasn't really a consensus because whenever I'd find one speculation or explanation, I'd find something that contradicted it. Some say it represents judgement, some say it represents a "self-deification and bow to no one" attitude. In some beliefs, the left hand represents evil and those who are born left handed were forced to use their right hand instead, although that's mostly a thing of the past now. Simply put, all I found were people disagreeing about what the left hand is all about. (heh) It's all a bit... complicated.

Then I pulled back and noticed that the conversations of the left hand reminded of the conversations around Aziraphale. Then my brain spiraled into thinking that maybe, just maybe, the fact that there's disagreement on the left hand was actually what the creators wanted the fandom to be like with Aziraphale. To cause this whole "actually bad! actually good!" contradictory thinking. That is the left hand is Aziraphale connection my brain latched on, the people's conversation! MIND BLOWINGLY CREATIVE WRITING IF INTENTIONAL!

*deep breath* Anyway!

If I now convinced myself to think God's Left Hand is Aziraphale coded, what about the Right Hand and it's meaning? Well, it just so happens that there are so many quotes about God's right hand:

10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. 11 All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish. Isaiah 41

That sounds rather protective to me. Almost as protective as a certain demon towards a certain angel. So far so good! Very generally speaking though, the right hand represents the power of a god. The very general consensus is that the right hand of God represents omnipotence. Something an occult being would need in order to say... create stars, galaxies, nebulas and even stop time.

Hmm, I wonder who is the right hand of God...

Ah darn, so close. That could've worked so well with a certain demon always being on the right.

A demon that got to hang out with the right hand of God...

Jesus said to James and John: "but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not for me to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared." Mark 10:40

It could all still just be a serendipitous and unplanned coincidence.

#cherry picking quotes from the bible has never been so fun #good omens spoilers #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #good omens analysis #good omens meta #good omens theory #good omens theories #good omens thoughts #marias good omens thoughts #give me season 3 or give me death

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littlekiara96 · 2 months

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So, I've cooked on hoyolab.

Have the full content of the same post, ready to be reblogged, under the cut.

Hello and welcome to

Theorycrafting with Kiara :D

Today, I will be discussing what has been said about Gallagher in particular during the 2.1 livestream!

I won't talk about his gameplay, since there's no point in commenting it, but I will delve into whatever lore we have as of pre-2.1.

Spoilers ahead! You've been warned.

Soooo, most of you probably know me from this coincidence post about Firefly and Gallagher, but did you know I have analysed weird details about him, too? And those details and little contradictions made me wonder about whether or not the mixologist is hiding something...

I had been wondering about how Gallagher could both seem important and yet be unknown by NPCs around Penacony, and I'm glad that Shaoji did confirm that Gallagher is "like a hero with anonymity".

Yes, he sounds like Batman, right now. Which is extra funny, because he'll do detective work during 2.1.

Which reminds me; see this picture?

Remember seeing those hound statues during the 2.0 storyline? They've always made me think of Gallagher, because of the pink hues they have. So... Are they like surveillance cameras for him?

And while we're on the subject of security... Let me remind you of a specific part of the livestream:

Kirin: "Bloodhound Family, protecting guests’ safety. But in the Version 2.0 story, did he even protect anything at all?"

Shaoji: "Well, you don’t understand. In the upcoming 2.1 storyline, Gallagher will play an important detective role and travel with the Crew to uncover the mysteries of Penacony. How do you know that his actions prior weren’t based on his own considerations and intentions?"

Shaoji... Don't make me believe that Gallagher and Firefly did share a look when they first saw each other... (Yes, I drink Copium SoulGlad, how did you know?)

And the last part that makes me wonder about stuff is this one...

Shaoji: "Is there a possibility that.. when I said Gallagher doesn’t have much of a story, someone actually think that he has? However, he really doesn’t have much of a past in the end. What a twist, right?"

Shaoji, Sir... I thought you were sincere. But you literally just lied. Because Gallagher's presentation itself mentions that he has a complicated past.

And I don't know about you people reading this, but "having a complicated past" sounds to me like the exact opposite of "not having much of a past".

And with all of this, I shall come up with another "crack theory", that follows what started as a "funny coincidence".

Gallagher knew that Firefly was a stowaway. He made sure she wouldn't be stopped in her personal endeavours. He kept watch over us through the hound statues, but unfortunately, he was unable to follow us into the "true Dream" when Sparkle sent us there, and thus he could not protect Firefly. He will be accompanying the Crew because he knows the Trailblazer did their best to help Firefly, and Gallagher now trusts them, and will help the Nameless uncover the truth of what happened and why it happened. Maybe he'll help the Trailblazer uncover some dark truth behind Penacony... Who knows, perhaps Sparkle wasn't all that wrong about it...

But alas! I only analyse lore and come up with theories merely for fun, and to give food for thought, as a means to entertain people while we wait together for the upcoming content.

I hope you have enjoyed my musings, and I shall now bid you farewell, and sweet dreams~ <3

#honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #gallagher hsr #theory #theorycrafting

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fromallie · 1 year

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Happy Coincidences ☆ ｡ - ᴋᴀɢᴇʏᴀᴍᴀ ᴛᴏʙɪᴏ

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

characters: kageyama x reader

contains: coincidences that aren't so unfortunate and intentional lowercasing.

a/n: we're taking a small break from writing about tsukishima, let’s all show some love to kageyama <3 also i was meant to post this like a week ago so, my bad T-T

━━━━━━━━━━━ 🥛🏐 ━━━━━━━━━

it was a peaceful sunday morning when you decided you were going to go shopping and run a few errands you had been putting off. normally you would be too busy with school work to have time to go shopping, but as exam season was coming to an end, your workload had lightened and you had some time to yourself.

as well as running a few errands, you were hoping to visit a new cafe that had opened if it wasn't too busy. you changed into a comfortable set of casual clothes and made sure you brought everything you needed before leaving your house and waiting for the next bus to come at the bus stop.

when you arrived at the mall, you noticed it was a lot busier than you were anticipating but you weren't going to let a few crowds of people stop you from doing what you needed to do. as you started to head to the stationary store, you scrolled on your phone to look over your shopping list before you were interrupted by the collision of your nose with the firm surface of another person's chest.

thud. your butt was the first to hit the tiled floor of the mall and you hissed in pain, looking up to identify the source of your pain you were shown the sight of a boy that went to your school, kageyama.

he extended a hand to pull you up and within a moment you were standing upright again, "y/n, is that you? i'm so sorry, are you okay?" you were slightly upset and wanted to lash out at the boy but decided against that and calmed your arising temper, "yeah i guess, never mind that. what are you doing here kageyama?"

his face was dusted with red as he faced the ground apologetically, obviously he hadn't done it on purpose so you brushed off the incident, "i was going to buy some knee pads for volleyball, what about you?"

"i'm just here to pick up a few things-" you were going to finish your sentence when a brilliant idea had stumbled upon your brain, "hey, seeing as you almost gave me a concussion, what do you say about shopping with me. we seem to both be alone and it would be nice to do something together right?"

he seemed slightly shocked at your suggestion with how sudden it had come, but soon enough the both of you were chatting away as you continued your route to the stationary store. surprisingly enough, conversation had come really easy to the two of you. having never interacted with the boy, you had assumed he was an anti-social, volleyball obsessed introvert.

well, you weren't necessarily wrong, as the two of you conversed mainly about volleyball which was nice seeing as both of you played. you had applied to manage the boys volleyball team with yachi so it was good that you had a chance to familiarise yourself with one of the members.

when you reached the entrance of the stationary store, you saw that they had new shelves with sanrio themed stationary on display. you needed more pens as your classmates who borrowed them seemed to always fail to return them, you picked up a few ballpoints and strolled through the aisles of the store with kageyama following close behind.

when you had finished gathering your items, you waited at the cash register whilst the cashier rang up your total. "all the items i needed to buy were in this store so, we can go buy your kneepads now." he nodded his head and as the two of you exited, you followed as he led the way to the sports store.

when you entered the store, it seemed that the whole atmosphere changed as cool and fresh air hit your face. with all the people in the mall it was starting to get hot, so the cool air was very much welcomed.

the store smelt like new shoes, which sounds odd but it was a pleasant smell. as the two of you walked to the volleyball section, neon yellow balls lined the shelves. the knee pads kageyama was looking to buy was on a shelf and there was a promotion going on, "buy two get 20% off." "hey y/n, did you need a pair of knee pads, they're having a sale." you turned to face kageyama before giving him the double thumbs up, he grabbed two packs and the two of you headed to the cash register, "hey kags, did you want me to pay for half?"

as he handed the cashier a few notes, he looked at you with confusion "why would you pay for it?" "uh, you know what, never mind, thank you kageyama." leaving the store, he handed you one of the two bags of knee pads "oh and y/n, you can keep calling me kags if you'd like."

your eyes had widened as you cringed at the realisation that you had let that nickname slip, you started to walk behind him to hide the faint blush on your face "oh okay, thanks kags."

with nothing left to buy, the two of you headed to the bus stop waiting for the next bus to come. the sun was starting to set and you had begun to get sleepy, when the bus arrived, the two of you took seats near the back next to each other and sat in comfortable silence as the bus took off. being so close to kageyama, you had began to get all warm and before long you had drifted off to sleep.

"hey y/n, wake up" your eyes fluttered open as you noticed the position you had put yourself in, immediately you sat up straight removing your head from kageyama's shoulder. you opened your mouth to apologise before you were interrupted, "you're lucky i know that we get off at the same stop, you must've been really sleepy huh?" you noticed the glint of tease in his voice and you had a large desire to bury yourself in a 6 foot deep hole. "i'm sorry for sleeping on you kags." he laughed as the two of you stepped off the bus, despite the cool breeze, your face wouldn't stop heating up so you covered it with your hands and tried your best to walk without being able to see.

as you walked, you bumped into kageyamas chest and he removed your hands from your face, "it's fine, really y/n, no need to be so embarrassed." you knew he was trying to make you feel better, however it seemed that you had become even more flustered so you quickly jogged a few metres in front of him and fanned your face in attempts to cool it down.

the bus stop wasn't too far from your house so, you had to handle a few more meters and you would be able to be rid of this situation. for the rest of the walk, you continued to stay in front of him and no words were exchanged between the two of you.

after a few minutes of mental torture, you had reached your house and turned around to finally face kageyama, "this is my stop, i'll see you tomorrow kags!" he smiled at you before bidding you farewell, "have a good evening y/n." you rushed to your front door and quickly opened it to escape into the comforts of your home.

you ran into your bedroom and changed out of your clothes before jumping into bed, "what an eventful day" you thought to yourself as you tried to calm your mind before heading to the kitchen to eat dinner.

when you finished eating dinner and showered, you sat on your bed having finally forgotten the embarrassing events that had occurred today before your phone rang with a notification.

"i had a lot of fun today, let's do this again sometime. also, i got your number off of the short bastard hinata." - kageyama

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#haikyuu!!#kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama fluff

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sequesteredschizo · 27 days

Text

cw // suicidal ideation & self harm

thought too much about where I should post these words @ and where to do it if I did

Decided on here, both to challenge myself to be honest about how I'm doing and as a small private testament to myself, esp considering I can't guarantee I'll remember any of this later if I don't

A few months ago I decided I was supposed to kill myself on April 26th 2024. I think something about doing that nullified certain anxieties of mine at times, for better and for worse. I thought the worst thing I could do that would ruin everyone I cared about was already going to happen, so I was able to loosen my grip somewhat on the people-pleasing and the social anxiety and the agoraphobia- maybe a sort of subconscious 'if something doesn't change, i will be dying. So I might as well try while I'm still around.' I've been callous and I've been unstable, but I also took risks (or, actions I that felt like risks to me) that landed me with more life-affirming results than I could have ever anticipated.

I sent texts I thought were annoying and stupid to people I wished I talked to more, I tried to eat like a well-adjusted adult person, I was honest with my dad about how hellish my disability was making my life for the first time. Etc etc. Anything to connect, anything to survive. I didn't care anymore. it felt like the end of the world. To everyone else it probably seemed like I was finally re-entering society, if anyone thought much of it at all (unlikely, imo.) At one point, I hurt myself worse than I ever had before, and without really meaning to, haven't done it since. It feels now like a microcosm of the bigger picture, just by coincidence. Doing better wasn't necessarily my intention, but it was a consequence of thinking I was fucking it all up one last time. Might as well throw all the chips in.

Last weekend I attended a wedding out-of-state for a relative I hadn't seen in years knowing id meet countless new faces and I didn't even freak out. And I was terrified, and I didn't want to go there and I didn't want to stay here but I did it anyways. Turns out I don't think I've ever felt so loved and welcomed and appreciated in my life. The people I reached out to on a whim, because what was the worst that could happen? Some of them actually respond back, fucking shocker. My dad is trying to stop pretending I don't exist. I'm a little less malnourished. So those are all good developments.

I feel like I reached up into an empty sky with the very last dregs of energy I had and by some miracle, just enough of the universe reached back. I don't and didnt want to scar and endanger my struggling loved ones because I couldn't be strong enough to deal with myself. It had to be my last option, after truly trying everything I could. I didn't even do much, and I didn't expect it to work. I didn't expect my favorite band to be dropping new shit on my due date. I didn't know that I would really honestly from the bottom of my heart not want to leave this fucked up horrible beautiful tragic world behind.

I know there's always going to be a part of me that expects me to commit. it's always been easier for me to hurt myself than help myself. I've written a lot of suicide notes throughout my life. This is the first time I've ever done the opposite, I guess? This is supposed to be my promise to me that I want to live. I need to. Its really hard to admit that to myself. I'm pretty sure I can do it tho.

I think (and almost hope) that the handful of you who follow this stupid little blog wont read this, but I posted it here because theres too many people everywhere else. It's directed at myself anyway.

a distant yell into a cacophonous void, in hopes that typing it will act as a metaphysical vehicle for manifesting it in the collective subconscious:

TRANS PEOPLE DONT KILL YOURSELF!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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bonesandthebees · 4 months

Note

hello! ive been very skillfully avoiding reading other peoples reactions because once again i am behind by two chapters!!

so chapter five here we go!

i like that tommy’s just like a kid having a grand ole time and wilbur is like “this guys SUCKS.” its very silly

i just semi-recently read jane eyre so the curtains on fire are giving rochester’s curtains on fire but that was because his wife that he hid away lit them on fire whilst he was sleeping not because of you know an accident of sorts but anyways

i like that tommy is just tommy living his best life

to the city they go!!!

i like their interactions just in the carriage its interesting

FLOWERS RAHHHHHHHHHHH

(i wont go into flower imagery right now because that would leave us here for a while and while they might have meaning they most likely do not in this sensebut god i love flowers and all their meanings and even the way they coincide with characters and ahhh)

i like that wilbur can read her it makes sense for his character but now we get to see how perceptive tommy is which is basically not at all in this case at least

and wilbur is helping despite his hatred and his thoughts dont cross phil and how he would want him to help, but its a rather decision solely based on his own conscience and that is an interesting thing

and then theres tommy who takes everything as a challenge and yeah i just am intrigued by them

but this time wilbur holds himself because of phil and thats the contrast between the things he does for him and the things he does for his dad

tommy is doing things!!!

and i like this

i like that this shows tommy’s morals, it shows that he understands he has power in his position he just prefers to be a kid rather than have to act with that power constantly and i think that is telling of how he would be as an heir to the throne because he doesn’t act for the power he acts for the people

and hes a good person, exactly that wilbur, he doesnt play the games of politics and that is what makes him interesting

i like that in this situation wilbur knows what would be good and bad options and it sets him up to be able to better evaluate their answers from his own view

blank slate

and now tommy gets to go to the place because he is a possible heir interesting

anyways i enjoyed this chapter! i think it gave good insight on all the heirs character in a sense and how they would be as a leader and its just kind of setting that stage but anyways time for the next chapter!

- 🪿

lol yeah the contrast between wilbur and tommy in ch 5 is so funny. tommy is just a kid goofing around and wilbur is like "I hate my fucking life why am I stuck with him" he's such a dramatic teenager

gonna be 100% honest I don't really use a lot of flower language symbolism solely bc I feel like depending on the source you go off of you can find totally different meanings for the same flower like there seems to be very little consistency across the board and I never know what the 'right' source to use is. this isn't to say there is no flower language/symbolism is the fic, the references to roses are very intentional. and there are hints to certain things with the flowers mentioned in the palace garden but it's not exactly... symbolism, per se. anyway, you're more than welcome to analyze the flower language of the flowers at the market, just know that I didn't look into that at all and just chose the flowers mentioned there mostly based off vibes lol

yeah I liked pointing out that wilbur wasn't trying to help tommy with the seashell seller because of his father's orders, he genuinely didn't want to watch a 13 year old get ripped off

tommy is a blank slate like phil said. he's young and idealistic and most importantly, a good person. and one could say the reason he's still good is because he hasn't gotten involved in the games yet. you'll have to wait and see if he stays that way as the story progresses

ty I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter!!!

#ask #goose anon #rose ch 5

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kittykollision · 2 years

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Stand By Me ~ Part 2 ~ Jotaro x F!Reader

Part 2: Who will be the judge?

If you're not a fan of your Stand name, then you can mentally change it. Moon River will just be default. It isn't named after a tarot card - since you wouldn't have been raised to know tarots - so it's named after the song. It makes sense timewise, and it's also a nice Bayonetta reference. :)

Masterlist | Previous Part

You could only grimace at the sight of so many girls flocking to the side of that idiot. You were sure that he deserved this in some way or another, so referring to him as an idiot wasn't that harsh even if you didn't know him. You weren't concerned on that poor attempt on his life, or his life for that matter. It was the Stand Master descending the stairs by your side that truly called for your attention.

It was coincidence that you entered the scene with him. Hopefully no one would confuse that you two knew each other or anything. You would become more acquainted soon enough, that was for sure. For now, you remained a bystander as the Stand Master confronted that punk face to face. The tension was high, and you were left guessing if this was a feud that had started before your arrival or something new entirely.

"You seem to have cut your left leg." He offered a handkerchief, an odd choice for a peace offering. The school punk didn't respond, only returning a heated glare. It seemed that you weren't the only one that was suspicious of him.

"Are you alright?"

The punk stood to his full height, casting his shadow over you as you lingered in the background, "Yeah. It's just a scratch."

Whether he turned to take his leave because he assumed everything was okay, or if he had seen enough, you couldn't be certain. He didn't move very far before being halted by the punk – starting another heated staring contest. You were beginning to feel uncomfortable, almost queasy as you watched on.

"I haven't seen you around before. Do you go to our school?"

"I'm Noriaki Kakyoin." At least you now had a name to refer to him as, "I just transferred here yesterday. Nice to meet you." What luck, he was in the same boat as you. It was some sick irony that you both happened to be transfer students, arriving on the same day. You couldn't argue – fate had led you to another Stand Master. All that was left to do now, was to determine why he had attacked this idiot for.

'It takes a Stand to kill a Stand.' It something your father had once taught you, and it begged the question – Why would someone use a Stand to harm a non-Stand Master? Unless he too had a Stand of his own. It would make sense that this Kakyoin had arrived here to solely destroy this one's Stand, and defeat him entirely, but why would he do such a thing? Were you too at risk? You had to figure it out quickly, in fear of your own safety.

Everyone went their separate ways – Kakyoin had moved along, and the punk, surrounded by his fangirls began making his way to school once more. It was against your own wishes, and with your intentions only being selfish, you made your way into the swarm. He was only suspicious of Kakyoin, and it was up to you to confirm what he thought even if you didn't want to. You made it by his side. Some girls were complaining about you, you simply ignored them. None were a threat, and if need be, you'd have your Stand drive them away.

You took your chance – and hoped that he was actually listening to you – and warned him, "I'd watch out for that Kakyoin character. He plans on killing you." As swiftly as you joined the group, you left it. Hopefully he takes that message seriously, if he was even listening. If not, it would surely cost him his life and won't be your fault.

***

With a stress-caused headache, you were escorted out of class to the nurse's office. Welcomed by the sight of that idiot once again, you let out a heavy sigh. The nurse's office was relatively busy with two other male students lying down at the back of the room. From their coloured complexions and lively appearance, they were obviously faking it. You could spot it easy, as you used to do the same thing just to avoid your own Stand. Thinking back to how scared you used to be, you were amused.

The nurse had her hands full dealing with the delinquent from this morning. Waiting by the doorway, you had a good view of the deep, bloody cut to his knee. It was a nasty sight, just adding to the simply wonderful first day you were having so far. From watching the death stare contest of possibly two Stand Masters, to this killer headache and now being unable to look away from such a painful-looking wound. What else would mentally scar you today?

"Jojo, how did you get that cut? You didn't get into another fight, did you?"

Ah, so this was the infamous Jojo. You had heard some classmates gossiping about him during class, saying something about him going to jail recently. If you were totally honest, you could imagine him behind bars. It fits his strong, stoic type character. Yes, his strong, stoic type character that is defensive about his clothing. A lovely combination. The nurse argued with him about cutting his pants so she could tend to his wound, while he remained overly defensive. He agreed to take off his clothes instead, which left you in an awkward position as aside from the nurse, you were the only girl in the room. The familiar burning sting to your face forced you to spin yourself around, and censor Jojo from your vision with your hand. Couldn't he have at least left the room...?

"Now then, I'll take your temperatures and prove that you're faking ill." She readied her thermometer, before turning to you, "Then I'll help you, sweetheart." You nodded, glad that someone had finally noticed your presence in the room.

"What is this?!"

Jojo exclaimed, drawing your attention to the handkerchief that Kakyoin had given to him earlier. You could spy the writing on it, barely making out the death threat – 'Jotaro Kujo, I will kill you today with my Stand! – Noriaki Kakyoin'. You weren't that fazed, seeing how you had predicted that this would happen this morning. A woman's intuition could not be bested. Jojo's eyes met with yours briefly, leaving you to say, "I did warn you."

The panicked shouts of the other students attracted the attention of both Jojo and yourself, as the nurse had become a woman possessed. She waved around a fountain pen, spilling ink with each swish, claiming that it was a thermometer but she didn't know any better. You stood there, mouth agape in shock as she foamed at the mouth like a wild animal. This had to be the work of a Stand. No, this wasn't good, if you summoned your Stand here, you would be in a weakened position. You still had to figure out how to free the nurse of her possession in order to not bring any harm to her. This was a tricky problem indeed.

She stabbed one of the students in the eye with the fountain pen, shoving deep into his eye as it dripped with his blood. Everyone in the room was horrified by the sudden turn of events. Your hands covered your mouth as you held back any cries of disgust and horror. With so many years' experience with Stands, never had you encountered something so terrifying. Removing the pen from his eye, the two students scrambled their way out of the room which only left you and Jojo to deal with the crazed nurse.

She turned her makeshift weapon onto Jojo, and he struggled to push her away. The pen narrowly missed his eyes, and instead dug into his cheek. You were standing on the sidelines of the action, feeling like a complete idiot. I must do something, you thought, and fast!

"Hey. Short time no see." Kakyoin made his grand appearance, sitting on the windowsill with a marionette in his hands, hanging on strings. He obviously has a soft spot for symbolism, unless that how he's controlling his Stand. "My Stand's possessed that nurse and is controlling her. Attacking my Stand will mean hurting that nurse, Jojo." That was exactly what I feared...

Kakyoin, in his arrogant glory, rolled his head back to look at me, "This isn't a safe place for a lady. Leave." There was something wrong about his tone of voice. You honestly couldn't tell if he was trying to be nice, asking you to leave out of concern – or if he just wanted you out of the way so he didn't have to kill you too. In the end, it didn't even matter as you had a plan that included Jojo. If he played along just right, you'd be able to take Kakyoin down, and save the school nurse. You could only hope that this would work.

"Not a chance. After all, what use is a Stand that can only manipulate people like a parasite?" You summoned your Stand, calling it to your side, "MOON RIVER!" The regal mermaid you had come to recognize as your Stand appeared at your beck-and-call, her face devoid of emotion to be replaced by pure determination. With the simple gesture of pointing your finger at Kakyoin, your Stand launched its physical attack. Kakyoin took a few nasty punches to the face, however he had recovered just fine and flashed you a devilish grin.

You did the same, puzzling him.

The plan was never to beat him, only to play as a distraction for him and his Stand. Moon River was at her weakest state, not powered by music or sound, so her attacks were little more effective than if you were to punch him yourself. Summoning her was a sacrifice that had to be made. It is a Stand's purpose to serve their Master and protect them, which had distracted his Stand as well as him. Jojo had a window to do whatever he had to, now that he was free from the psychotic nurse.

You half-expected him to take Kakyoin on – as you doubted the Jojo was the type to run from a fight. So, it only seemed natural that both you and Kakyoin were surprised when Jojo locked lips with the school nurse. Perhaps that mental image is more horrifying than the kid getting a pen shoved into his eye... You thought he was crazy, doing something so reckless – and weird – at a time like this. Your complaints were destroyed though, when he pulled back and his own Stand surfaced with what you assumed was Kakyoin's Stand in its mouth.

Oh. Gross.

"Kakyoin, is this your Stand?"

"You're going to regret dragging that out of her, Jojo-" Kakyoin's words were cut short by a pained cry, as Jojo's Stand took hold of his and squeezed its melon-esque head.

"Don't try and act tough." Jojo spat, "You were bested by a girl." You ignored the tone he spoke in and basked in your own arrogance. It didn't seem like Jojo appreciated your assistance whatsoever. "And all I have to do is squeeze your Stand's head to crush yours too."

Things began to look dire for Kakyoin. A gust of wind slammed the windows shut, drowning the room in darkness as a signal that the tables had been turned. You gazed up to Kakyoin's Stand, as it leaked green liquid from its hands. Something was wrong, as usual, a mistake had been made. You braced yourself and your Stand as Kakyoin regained control.

"I told you that you would regret this. Feel the attack of my Stand, Hierophant Green!" The strange green liquid flooded from the hands of Stand, incredibly so that he made his large attack, praying it as a jet of liquid... and shards of emeralds at both Jojo and yourself in an attack he called 'Emerald Splash'.

"Guard." Your Stand followed your words, conjuring a lattice-work barrier that would soften the blow. You'd be lucky if your Stand was strong enough to block it. Jojo and his Stand were thrown across the room, colliding with a wall with a loud crash. Your barrier had blocked most of the blow, but shattered nonetheless, forcing you and your Stand backward but you were still on your feet. It was a spot of luck in your unlucky day.

Jojo was not so lucky.

"Jojo!"

"What do you think? Emerald Splash... What looked like the bodily fluids of my Stand, Hierophant Green, was a vision of destructive energy. It pierced through your Stand's chest. Therefore, your insides have been torn to shreds. And that nurse..." Kakyoin continued to gloat as the nurse collapsed to the ground, blood leaking from her body.

You crumbled at the sight of another painful choice. Jojo wasn't handling this battle well, though the nurse was lying in a pool of her blood that only seemed to grow. They both needed you, in one way or another.

"I'm certain that I removed the Stand from her..."

"I already told you that attacking my Hierophant Green would mean hurting her. My Stand can reach further than yours, but it doesn't like open spaces. It prefers to hide within something. If you drag it out, it gets angry. That's why, when it came out from her throat, it hurt her. It's your fault, Jojo!"

You dropped to your knees beside the nurse, checking vitals. Her pulse was clear and she was breathing fine. It was the blood loss that worried you, though there was very little you could do. There was Jojo to keep in mind as well, as he had taken damage himself. It was left to you to solve this dilemma, and soon as you were growing tired of Kakyoin's narrating and blame-mongering nonsense. You didn't know what his problem was, but you simply had to shut him up!

"You're all talk, Kakyoin." You rose to your full height, your face twisted into a scowl, "You are the one you truly hurt the nurse, a bystander. You are no more innocent that Jojo."

Kakyoin wasn't impressed that he had been interrupted during his villainous monologue, and arched an eyebrow at your bravery – or was it stupidity? "Is that so?"

"And all that exposition and arrogant chatting, it's all you are." Your Stand had remerged, charging toward Hierophant Green with a closed fist dragging behind her. Moon River landed a resounding punch to Hierophant's face, and you could have sworn that there was a sickening crack that sounded as well. Your Stand continued to deliver an onslaught of heavy blows with whatever power she had in such a barren environment. "You need to learn to shut the fuck up!"

"And I suppose you're going to teach me?" Kakyoin retorted, wiping blood onto the sleeve of his uniform. His Stand's movements were too fast for you to act against, and the tail of Hierophant Green snapped against the back of your sound – crackling thunderously like a whip. Your back stung from the blow, and a follow-up elbow to your Stand's face had knocked you to the ground with a busted lip, combined with a searing pain to your back. You had no choice but to recall your Stand for your own safety. "You aren't anything special either."

Left to wallow on the ground in pain, your new school uniform drenched in the blood of the nurse, you seethed, "Bastard..."

Jojo struggled to stand again, to which Kakyoin mused about, "You stood back up only to be hit again." Kakyoin was putting on a brave face, as Jojo – who stood before you and the nurse appeared more menacing than ever before.

"I, Jotaro Kujo, am labelled a punk." Oh, no, now he's monologuing... "I tend to overdo it with my opponents in fights, so much that some are still in the hospital. There was one idiot teacher who was all talk, so I taught him a lesson and he hasn't come back to school. At restaurants that served me lousy food, I leave without paying the bill all the time. But... even I know nauseating evil when I see it."

Following some unnecessary monologue, you murmured to yourself, "You sound more like a straight up jackass than a punk." It was a stupid thing to say out loud at all, and you hoped he didn't hear you from below.

"Evil is when you use the weak for your own gain, and crush them under your foot. Especially a woman!" Wait, he was fighting for you and the nurse? You couldn't help but smile. He's not exactly a knight in shining armor, but you had to admit he was being chivalrous in a fashion. "That is exactly what you've done!

Your Stand isn't visible to the victim or the law. Therefore... I shall judge you!"

Kakyoin, clearly amused, argued against Jojo before unleashing his Stand once more to attack Jojo himself. From the ground, you watched on as Jojo miraculously dodged Hierophant Green with his hands in his pockets. You questioned whether he was taking this seriously or not, yet you silenced your own questions. Kakyoin would kill you, so Jojo was the only person keeping you from such a cruel fate.

Jojo's dodging did not last for long, however, as he was entangled in the appendages of Hierophant Green. "And now, the final blow!" Hierophant prepared another round Emerald Splash and you prayed that Jojo had some sort of plan, or a miracle in store to save the both of you. Luckily, he did, otherwise he was purely winging it, as his Stand appeared and shrugged off Emerald Splash with ease. The Stand took a hold on Hierophant's neck, shaking him, before pummelling its head to pierces with a thunderous flurry of punches that shattered the windows with it's power.

"What a powerful Stand..."

It was the last thing Kakyoin uttered, as he, like the nurse he had possessed like a parasite, collapsed into a bloody heap.

Jojo has a very powerful Stand indeed...

"You just caught it by surprise and hurt its chest a little. Lucky for me it's not a weak Stand, but I have a feeling it'll become more violent."

You checked on Kakyoin, making sure that Jojo hadn't outright killed him. He was an awful person, and had attempted to hurt you and kill Jojo, but he didn't deserve to die. You stood up once again as Jojo approached the nurse. His face was stoic, yet you knew he was concerned.

"She'll be alright. All she needs is some medical attention." You assured him. He made no response, as if he was ignoring you, but he had to have heard you.

The emergency school bell sounded, and the worried voices of both students and teachers alike echoed down the corridor. It's surprising they didn't hear the fighting earlier than this. You turned around to find Jojo heading toward the window with Kakyoin over his shoulder.

"H-Hey, wait, where are you going?"

"I'm ditching school." Finally, a reply! Without another word, he jumped from the window to the ground outside and began to make his departure. "Hold up, I'm coming too." Concerned that he's going to do something stupid you follow him, seeing he didn't stop to wait for you, that and you don't want to take the blame for what happened here. Your mother would go crazy about you skipping school, though the backlash from that would be significantly less than if you got blamed for the mess in there.

>> To Be Continued >>

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba stardust crusaders #jjba part 3 #jjba #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #jotaro x you #jotaro #jojo #stardust crusaders #wattpad #cross posted on wattpad #reader insert #reader #f!reader #x reader

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adarkrainbow · 11 months

Note

Hello!

Turns out I was lecturing about my own history too ! I'm also French and I kind of studied the 19th century in depth years ago 😅. Though I've also studied litterature, but I'm more a history student and my brain went 'trump card activated'!

As for Castles, I agree, with all the big Castles in Ile de France (Fontainebleau, Versailles, Le Louvre etc, it's not surprising that in our minds Castle = BIG

I've discovered this blog a couple of months ago now? And it bring me great joy. Fairy tales were always an area of interest to me but I never studied them so I'm devouring all your posts on them.

Thank you so much for the blog!

Oh I didn't meant it as "it is vexing when I'm lectured by a foreigner about my own history". The thing is... in general when someone points out you don't know your own history, whoever they are, no matter the time, the condition, the intention, you'll always feel embarassed and vexed because that's how human body works X) Be it a British tourist who knows more than you as you chat by the sea-side about the big battle-ship nearby or your very French neighbor who points out the classic French book you praise wasn't written by the person you think wrote it... You know it is just one of those embarassing moments. Didn't meant to sound like the archetypal xenophobic French "Those damn foreigners putting their nose where it does not belong!"

Yeah - I studied literature myself, and while I do casually enjoy history (and am forced to know about it), I am not at all a history hack. I can tell you the full history of fairytales but do not ask me to list you the order of French kings.

Well this blog has been around for... a couple of years now? At least two years around - so while it is pretty "young", you managed to dig up one of those ancient posts nobody comments or reblogs anymore X) But at the same time that's literaly what I created my Masterpost list for - so newcomers can dig through the old archives they might have missed.

I have to say you're welcome! I admit with this blog I have my ups and downs - being literaly an over-stressed Master student trying to scratch some last-minute time to finalize a mémoire you one day believe is the greatest thing on earth, the following day reject as a stupid piece of overbloated uselessness... This blog is literaly an anti-stress system I put together originally to act as a side-way to my actual fairytale studies, so it can be quite moody X) And the periods of relaxation and calm usually coincide wth the "grandes vacances".

But anyway - all of that to say, that I do appreciate your compliments! It is just that you know, trying to bring forward French stuff to a side of Tumblr that is not big or keen on French culture (it comes to no surprise that when I work on a long, complex, full post about Perrault it gets reblogs I can count on a hand, but a throw-away hasty short post about the Grimm gets dozens and dozens of reblogs in a day), I always get tense when I make a mistake because my whole credibility is blown into little pieces by the overtly-critical and always-judgemental eye of the dreaded RANDOM AMERICAN GUY WHO COMES OUT AND SAYS HA TURNS OUT YOU ARE NOT AS FRENCH AS YOU SAY YOU ARE...

... I usually do not get as expressive and agitated in a post, especially an answer post, but I am tired and overwork so i'm just having a quiet little mania moment :)

#how do you tag a post #where you just ramble like a madman #prophetizing about the end of the world #and how lawn gnomes will take over our jobs #i don't know #i am tired #but the giggling for nothing kind of tired #need a friggin drink #pure cold water #that's the stuff

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wrestlingisfake · 7 months

Text

Ultimate Warrior and ECW?

With all the speculation about CM Punk maybe going to TNA, I was reminded of the time the Ultimate Warrior had people wondering if he'd give ECW a try.

In August 1999, Warrior posted a lengthy article on his website, to address his future. Fans had spent the better part of a decade wondering wondering what he'd do next. He'd burned his bridges with the WWF in 1991, 1992, and 1996. Jumping to WCW seemed to make sense...until he actually went there in 1998 and flopped badly. ECW was a viable third option for most wrestlers, but Warrior wasn't exactly like "most wrestlers." Even now the idea of him in an ECW ring with guys like Taz and the Sandman seems insane, sort of like transplanting Drax the Destroyer into an episode of The Boys.

The original post on Warrior's website is long gone, of course, but luckily I dug up a copy from the Usenet group rec.sport.pro-wrestling. Unfortunately, I couldn't find Paul Heyman's initial reaction to the overture, but I'm certain it was along the lines of "I'd be happy to respond to him, if only I knew what the hell he said."

For posterity's sake, I thought I would paste Warrior's post here, below the cut. If you haven't read Warrior's writing before, trust me--everything he wrote was pretty much like this.

***

Hello. Warriors. Since my short note here at Warrior Web many mails have come in. 99.9% of them positive; the other .01%, warriors don’t concern themselves with.

My comment, “I'm back” has been misunderstood. Like to clear that up right now. I'm back here at Warrior Web. Feels great to be, and I’m planning to do so more regularly, but I’m not back in the ring or back out in the world of Prowrestling. I do, however, understand how that could have been misunderstood. The last time I put forth major effort here on Warrior Web, those efforts, happened to coincide with a return back to Prowrestling.

Since the topic of choice and curiosity, for a great deal of you, is Prowrestling let me make a couple of statements about the probabilities of possibilities and the impassibilities of impossibilities.

WCW

Often I get mail with language content that clearly reflects the writer isn’t aware that I appeared at WCW. For those who don’t know or aren’t sure, I did; in the latter part of ‘98. A year ago, almost to the day, I began what was a 6-month/2 PPV contract that expired 12/31/98.

“Why,” many ask, “aren’t you still there?” Of course, everyone else has expressed their opinion. And in this business most of those are built on quicksand -- nothing about them is concrete. The truth is that there is no leadership @ WCW. Something I did not know before I started my negotiations, suspected during, and later, after signing, came to find out all too clearly. Eric Bischoff is a personable enough guy. His intentions are in the right place, but his leadership skills are sadly, brutally lacking. I don’t believe, from what I saw, that there's any malice or sinisterness to personally destroy anyone’s career. My position on this differs from others. But, I do agree, he doesn’t, as I saw it, do much to propel one either. Frankly, he’s acted more like the chairman-elect of the WWF’s welcoming committee, as talent frequents there, than he has as the President of WCW.

There is absolutely no proper preparation for the television programming. At all. I’m sorry Eric, but making yourself unavailable all week because you say you “need to clear your mind,” and not returning calls at all, and scheduling a paltry hour and a half to two hour meeting just prior to airtime on Monday night with all the talent, each one vying for his own vague range-of-the-moment agenda, while, at the same time, vilifying the agenda of others is not proper preparation, in anyway shape or form. “Spontaneity”, as it was called, is altogether different than trying to fill a void.

What I was told I’d have and what my character needed -- to exploit it to it’s fullest potential -- necessitated thinking, and that was too difficult for some individuals there to do. Who, specifically, those individuals are, I intend to discuss at greater length later. (see note re: book below)

The real blame lies with the leader. The actions and behaviors of the troops are set by the general. [“An Example Set is an Example Followed.” Brought to you by Warrior Wisdom.] When the general runs and hides under the covers or dives in a foxhole, the troops follow suit. Who are they to say or do otherwise? Especially when the mailbox always has a regular-arriving check in it, and Turner’s pockets are viewed as an “ATM machine,” and anyone who wants to tinker with the system is forewarned, “Don’t f%#$ with the ATM machine.”

Truth is, many don’t want to be the best and that “ don’t have to be, why try to be?” atmosphere becomes increasingly demotivating. Many are, and want, to be floaters, perturbers, disturbers, or slackers. On the other hand, there are some truly good-intended individuals over there butting heads with that bulwark of complacency, but as a whole, intentions are far removed from activations.

I’m proud of what I brought to WCW. I spoke openly about the deliberate diversions and people didn’t like that. My first appearance, a face to face interview with Hogan, Beefcake and Bischoff was a launching pad like no other, if they’d just utilized it instead of telling me “We think, maybe, you stepped over the line, uh, possibly, and made comments” -- during that brilliant, well-thought out, well-planned interview we never expected -- “that were too personal.” Are you kidding me? Maybe guys, it’d be better if you just stopped at, “We think, maybe.” Then I’d understand. Then I’d get it. Shortly after, I heard the words “too cerebral” and “Warrior’s turning himself heel by acting like that…” Little droppings of sentiment seeded in the minds of others by Einstein himself, Professor of Scatology, Kevin Nash. Well, if that’s the opinion held by others, I strongly disagree. And when faced with the facts I intend to release one day soon, I’d say it’s a damn shame some didn’t engage their cerebral a bit more. Because ultimately, as the ratings in the marketplace now vividly show, it has cost the company, irretrievably, as a whole. I expect this will be denied and refuted. That’s why we keep some back. Besides, the evidence speaks for itself.

It’s really funny and sad at the same time. I just find it odd when someone who wants to be the best at everything he does or tries gets shunned for that very reason. Something is really wrong with that. Really.

WWF.

This will not happen.

Look, I know what I put up here at Warrior Web will find its way to a load of “.coms.” So, before I make any statements discussing the WWF, I want to let you know that, as a fan, supporter and endorser of my wrestling career, you deserve a more thorough explanation. That is impossible for me to do at this time. In the near future, I will. Nonetheless, recognize that if the following statements were not true to the degree which I claim, I’d be doing only myself harm.

For now, just let me say that three years ago, again, almost to the day, I filed a lawsuit against Titan Sports, Inc., Vince McMahon, Linda McMahon (the et.al.) Three months from today, on November 16th to be exact, my day in court will be had. Actually, it will begin; trial is set for two weeks. It is, also, inexpressible to relay, intelligibly, the scope of effort and breadth of information that has transferred, transmitted and transpired between the parties in the last 3 years. Only those who have lived it can know. It would take a book. A book I intend to write. A candid, divulging, unrestricted tome I will write myself that is unlike any other this industry has ever witnessed. Today, all I can say with assurance, without violating my own case’s rights, is that Titan has avoided facing the truth for the last three years by creating lie after lie after lie. And when that hasn’t worked they tried another. As my own counsel has said in recent documents to the court, "The best thing they (Titan) do is create fiction." They continue to do so even as we approach the doors into the Halls of Justice. It has taken three years just to unravel and demystify the subversion of their legal arguments and claims. And I’d like to thank my legal counsel -- Joseph, Shawn, Charles, Lorraine, DeAnn, Jo Lynn -- for doing so.

“Why haven’t we heard anything about it?”

U.C.I./Warrior vs Titan, et.al. hasn’t made the front page of any papers or nightly news or talk shows for a few reasons. First, it’s not sexually scandalous and doesn’t, thereby, increase circulation or television ratings. Yet, it is about decadence; the lies and deception of Titan’s outrageous and morally corrupt bad behavior on many levels. It’s about a historical practice of claiming -- Machiavellian-like -- total, absolute credit for any creativity, development, or success of any character that company has ever employed. It’s about egregiously claiming the sovereign rights and operations to an individual’s physical and intellectual abilities. Each of those autonomously created by a being none of us, in reality, knows, certainly not Vince McMahon and his company, Titan Sports. It’s about an abusive use of cold, calculated power over individuals who simply want to succeed. Often times, naively, at any price. It’s about continuing a callous witchhunt in hopes that others, under the natural apprehension and skepticism of a deposition done by the uncouth, will remark that you’ve acted humanly, and then taking that human fallibility, that we all have, and turn a life lived into a drama of inimical intrigue and villainous character assassinations and portrayals. It’s about unprofessional, unethical and totally disrespectful choices and actions by a company and it’s counsel that.t.t…Strike that. And that’s just the beginning.

Titan doesn’t want their public to know that the liars and lies in this story -- the testimony under oath -- aren’t playing or part of a role on television. These liars and lies are real, not actors and lines; not part of a storyline created for entertainment. Righting the wrongs committed against me, my reasons for fighting this battle are mine and mine alone. None of which have anything to do with public support, opinion or praise; beyond the listening eyes and seeing minds of a jury. Besides, calling a liar a liar and a lie a lie -- before having the evidence to prove it -- would have just been a claim easily denied and refuted by Titan saying three simple words, “That’s not true.” Oh, Titan will still say, “That’s not true”, but they know that, too, is not true, and moreover, not capable of being denied or refuted as the record shows.

I was wronged severely by Titan, Vince and Linda and it’s representatives in ‘96 and, now as we come to find out, ‘92, as well, and I’m righting that wrong in the clearest, most absolute way. Through the Justice system. In November, I will, after three years of Titan’s blatant conniving misinterpretations and twistings of words, get my opportunity for Justice, Vindication and Reparation. Even with the Reparation being in the multi-millions, Justice and Vindication have a priceless worth all their own. In front of a jury of 12 fellow members of society and a judge who acts, and guides, objectively and rationally -- one who dispenses with the chest-pounding histrionics and casuistries -- Titan will be held accountable for the breaches they’ve committed against me. Once and for all the book of my dealings with Titan Sports will be closed. The Book of Warrior will be open, the lesson I’m to teach will be taught and I will speak freely.

By the way, welcome back Bulldog. Glad to see you’ve resolved your difficulties personally, and those issues, past, with Titan professionally.

ECW.

Many of you have written and asked, “What about ECW?”

So, let me answer that question like this. I think you’ll like it. Those who think will get it.

First, congratulations on your recent TV deal.

Now, I don’t believe I’ve ever met Paul Heyman. If I have, I don’t remember doing so. I only know him by what he’s accomplished and done and by what others have said of him. Also, I’ve never watched ECW. But, that in itself, doesn’t mean anything. I don’t watch or read about the sport at all -- that’s right, none -- unless, of course, I'm participating in it and by association see or talk or read something about it. I do know, from what I’ve heard, that he does wild things, creatively, with his promotion, or rather, he has talent that will do wild, outrageous, extreme things. Hence, Extreme Championship Wrestling. (Oh Warrior, you are so clever.) I suppose the overall wild nature of those wild ideas comes primarily from Mr. Heyman, ECW’s leader. And I will say that I, or anybody else for that matter, could do nothing but admire the risks some guys will take in this business. For example, look at Mick Foley. What he does with his body and well-being is unbelievable and must be respected on a level 99% of us in this business will never comprehend. Point is, I’ve heard that most of the ECW talent conducts themselves in a similar fashion and command, in my book, similar respect.

It goes without saying that if I’ve never met Paul Heyman, then he’s never met me. And, like I know him, he would know me, by word of mouth -- other people’s mouths. In this business, a story of guy picking his nose becomes a story about a guy who wants to pick a fight before the story makes it halfway across the locker room. Point being, we don’t -- can’t -- know one another from the mouths of others.

So let me introduce myself. My name is Warrior, not Jim Hellwig. If that bothers you, that’s your problem, not mine. I say that because people who know I’ve changed my name seem to very often have a problem with referring to me by my name. Again, their problem. I’m a stand up guy. I don’t wrong others, and I don’t want to be wronged myself. I’m a straight shooter in my talk and actions, and I expect the same. If I make a commitment in return for one I expect, I will fulfill mine if I get the one I expect. I don’t work others outside the ring, I expect the same. I’ve acquired a reputation in this business, as no doubt you have. I know of it. I heard it from another’s mouth, as you, more than likely have heard of mine. Mine, misinterpreted as being a guy who’s difficult, comes, truthfully, from being a guy who stands up and speaks out and takes action when he’s been wronged, or even when others have been wronged (ask around). The true one -- it’s one I’m proud to have.

I created, portray, perform and own one of the -- if not the -- most intense colorful, motivating, energizing personas in the wrestling industry. You can disagree, but you can’t convince me otherwise. That persona is recognized all over the world. Beneath the facade and the face paint, I am an astute, always “never too smart to learn” businessman who handles the business of Ultimate Creations, Inc., a multitude of projects, all of them Warrior related. Each of them potential moneymakers beyond the ring and all over the world. I have many interests and talents, only but one of them is the aforementioned Warrior as a Sports Entertainer, Prowrestler. I make no apologies for extending my business interests beyond the ring. Those put off by it are the ones with the problem, not me. I am a gracious supporter and endorser of other talented individuals. Those who know me well will tell you I’ve not a jealous, envious or insecure bone in my body, but I will challenge you to be the best you can be, and I expect the same. And if you are one to give less than one beat away from a heart attack in effort and intensity I’ll tell you so. I don’t enjoy being around floaters or slackers. I enjoy working with individuals who want to be the best and give the time and effort to be so.

Different than other mouthpieces express, I don’t have a “put you off” ego. I have an ego with the power to elevate and intensify others to their highest potential, an ego that solidifies a team; and if that “puts you off”, your own confidence and self-esteem is lacking, and that’s your problem, not mine.

To a newly televised, creatively charged iconoclastic wrestling organization such as ECW, a powerhouse character and marketing property like the inveterate Warrior could be the ultimate juggernaut to “leap tall buildings in a single bound” (jump past WCW post haste) and race “faster than a speeding bullet” (hot, hot on the trail of WWF). I am an extremely creative, energizing person. I’m not afraid to possibly take, creatively done, never before switching risks.

Let me end by saying, I don’t do normal deals and I don’t sign generic contracts. In addition, I’ve fought too hard for all my character’s rights to ever -- ever -- even consider, at any price, giving them up. Good Senses in your future endeavors. Bob Ryder has my number. Always Believe, Warrior.

Stay tuned Warriors. More to come by mid-week. Find out what the Warriorman’s been up to and what’s coming here at Warrior Web (a facelift is coming) and beyond. Let's get beyond the updates and get on to the warriorating power of making the most out of our lifes! Find out about Team Warrior, Project Warrior, Book of Warrior (BOW) and what other one-of-a-kind Warrior projects are going to be happening very soon. F-e-e-l the Power!

Always Believe. Man, you have to Always Believe. Warriorman ouuta here for now.

#ultimate warrior #jim hellwig #ecw #extreme championship wrestling

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