AN: Dracula is my comfort book. I’m on my nineteenth read through as of writing this and it’s just as good as the first time I read it. I personally suggest reading this the way that it was written: with a scented candle lit, classical music in the background, wrapped up in a blanket, and a warm drink in hand. I’m still learning Romanian but I’ve been working hard so I’m hoping that it’s good enough. I really had to work to try to make sure that the words used to speak about the reader are gender neutral and it was brutal. I’ve included translations as well so I hope that makes up for it! Not beta read or proof read.
TW: Yandere behaviors, kidnapping, delusional loser man behavior, somewhat realism, mentions of the horrors of how workers were treated in late Victorian England, heavily implied almost SW that’s honestly narrowly avoided, violence, implied murder, blood, forced vampire stuff, the author being super into traditional food in Eastern Europe and sleeping
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You were Jonathan Harker’s secretary. You had been hired to follow him during his travels and take down any notes that he deemed necessary. You had grown up in the countryside and had moved to London to help provide financially for your family when you had turned 18. You had excelled at reading and writing and had managed to pick up typing skills from one of your siblings that lived in the city as well. After a very enthusiastic interview, you were hired by Mr. Peter Hawkins to greet clients, write anything needed, and prepare documents. You didn’t have much experience with law but you made up for it with very endearing enthusiasm. You were exactly the type of secretary that your employer was looking for. You had big round eyes, were very easily impressed by the smallest things, were particularly naive, and were prone to immediately fawning over any manner of things that you deemed interesting, which was almost anything new that you laid eyes on. Essentially, you were an ideal sacrifice to the ego of any old man that your employer deemed wealthy enough.
It was your very first trip out of England. You were practically bouncing with excitement during the entire train ride to the meeting point with the first driver. Before going on the trip, you had read everything that you could find about Romania. It didn’t help much with your understanding of the language but you were very excited to see the countryside and castles. You kept your eyes on the beautiful towns, cities, and countryside the entire time that you weren’t asleep or speaking to Jonathan. You noticed that he was writing in a journal and you decided that you should do the same. You bought a small notebook on one of the stops in a city and wrote once the sun went down.
You wrote about how the train ride was beautiful and how the towns you stopped in were pretty. You decided that it was better to draw than to just write and carefully recreated the scene that you saw on one of the main streets when you were coming out of the train station on one of the pages. You proudly showed Jonathan but he simply brushed you off. He was too busy with his own thoughts to put any consideration into learning what yours were.
The morning that you were going to the first carriage before meeting the Count’s carriage, something strange happened. You watched the wife of the innkeeper plead with Jonathan to take a crucifix with him. He eventually took it and you were so enthralled by the scene that you didn’t notice the innkeeper approach you from behind. You jumped a little when he placed a large, rough hand on your shoulder and looked up at him with wide eyes before smiling at him. He paused for a moment before speaking.
“You are so… Young. You will need this.” He said softly, carefully placing a crucifix around your neck.
You politely thanked him, thrilled to get a souvenir, and hurried to the carriage. The carriage ride itself was fairly uneventful. You ended up napping for most of it. The eventful aspect was when the carriage was supposed to meet the Count’s. You didn’t hear much of the exchange between Jonathan and the drivers but you were curious about the way that the driver looked at you with those piercing eyes. You quietly got into the new carriage once you thanked the first driver. You almost immediately fell back asleep once the driver puts a heavy fur blanket over your lap. You sleep through the entire ride to the castle and are only awoken when Jonathan shakes you awake at the gates.
You sleepily follow him into the castle, dragging your luggage behind you. You didn’t notice anyone there until the Count began speaking to your boss. You blinked a few times, trying to wake yourself up enough to fully understand the conversation.
“I am… Surprised that you have a child as an assistant.” The Count said slowly.
“Oh, they’re an adult. They’re young, yes, but rest assured, they’re very competent.” Jonathan replied, clearly not understanding what he meant. You were an adult and though you didn’t entirely know what you had signed up for, you should have known the risks of working for any man willing to hire someone so young to manage clients.
“Bietul copil. Unul atât de tânăr ca tine nu ar trebui să muncească așa. Știu ce așteaptă angajatorul tău de la tine.”¹ Dracula murmured under his breath as he stared at you.
Poor little child. One as young as you should not have to work like this. I know what your employer expects of you.
“I beg your pardon, sir?” Jonathan said questioningly.
“It is nothing. All will be well, friend Jonathan.” The Count reassured him. He would make sure that you were treated the way that a child should be.
You were happy to eat the lavish dinner that was provided for you. You happily tried each and every dish available. You didn’t notice the affectionate look on the Count’s face as you ate everything that you could. You listened to your boss and his client speaking about legal details. You sat by the roaring fire, doing your very best to keep from nodding off. Your stomach was full, you were warm, and you were oh so sleepy after traveling so much. Your eyelids were heavy after watching the scenery go by for so long and it was getting hard for you to stay upright.
You were very grateful when you were led to your room. You didn’t bother changing into pajamas before passing out in the luxurious bed.
At first, you truly enjoyed your stay at Castle Dracula. Your room was warm and comfortable. The silk, velvet, and animal pelts on your bed made you feel like royalty. Sometimes, though you would never admit it anywhere but in your journal, you would pretend that you were the heir to a throne in some unnamed foreign land. The food was always delicious as well. There was always something new to try and as time went on, the side dishes that you favored the most showed up on the table more frequently. You were allowed anywhere in the castle and you particularly enjoyed the library.
After your supper, you were very fond of listening to stories that Dracula told you of wars and victories and trades within his homeland. He insisted that you sit on the floor by the fire where he had made you a little cushion to sit on made of pillows and soft furs on top of the lush carpet. He told you once that it reminded him of where he sat as a child when his father told him stories. He would carefully drape blankets made of soft furs over your shoulders and on your lap before handing you whatever treat was prepared for that night. He would keep a tray beside him and refill your tiny plate whenever you had finished whatever he had given you, cooing softly at you in Romanian in the process before continuing his story.
One night, Jonathan had attempted to take a cookie off of the tray that the Count would feed you from. They were Fursecuri cu Unt și Gem, the Romanian version of thumbprint cookies. You had told the Count how much you loved eating the strawberries that grew in your mother’s garden in an offhand comment and he had made sure that the cookies had strawberry jam in the center. You were almost in a trance from how comfortable you were when you were startled by the sharp cracking sound of the Count slapping away Jonathan’s hand.
“Not for you. For them.” Dracula hissed as his eyes flashed viciously.
Your eyes went wide. You had never seen Dracula behave in an aggressive way before. You merely thought that he was a sweet old man that was lonely and wanted to see England before he passed. As soon as the incident occurred, it was over. Your plate was empty and the Count immediately replaced the cookie that you had eaten.
“Copilul meu drag trebuie răsfățat.” He said softly, affectionately patting you on the head before returning to his story.
My darling child needs to be spoiled.
You quickly excused yourself to go to bed after scarfing down the cookie in a few bites, politely refusing the Count’s offer of walking you to your bedroom. It was the first time that you had declined the nightly walk to your room that you two always shared. You normally were very excited to spend time with him but it was obvious that you were a bit freaked out after watching him lash out at your boss for seemingly nothing.
You hurried to your room, locking the door and immediately jumping into your bed. You buried your face into your pillows, trying to think about what to do. In reality, it wasn’t much. You were probably just overreacting. You couldn’t expect someone from another country to act like the people in England, especially when you’re in their country. It’s an entirely unreasonable expectation. You decided to apologize to him the next time you see him. Better yet, you decide to write a note to him. You haul yourself out of your bed and over to the desk. You pull out a piece of paper from a folder and carefully ink your pen. You had always thought that a handwritten note was more personal than a typed one. You think for a moment before your pen begins to scratch against the paper as you start to write.
Dearest Count Dracula,
I’m very sorry for the way that I acted today. It was rude and uncalled for and I deeply apologize. I hope that you can forgive me. I would really like to hear your stories tomorrow and walk with you again, if you would let me.
Yours truly,
You were interrupted by a knock on the door and you set your pen down after signing your name.
“Come in!” You called.
The door opened and the Count entered. You were surprised. He never came into your room.
“Little one, I wanted to see if you were okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes I forget that your countrymen aren’t used to fighting for the sake of the young. I missed our little walk.” He said softly.
You felt a bit embarrassed and sheepish.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run off. I wrote this for you.” You apologized, tentatively offering up the note to him.
You didn’t miss the warm, paternal smile on his face as he read the note.
Things went back to relatively normal after that. You had your nightly story time and your sleep schedule slowly began to match his. Much to the dismay of your boss, you began sleeping all day and staying awake all night. Your sleep schedule slowly shifted to one similar to that of the Count. You loved staying up and chatting with him too much to sleep when you knew that he would be around.
Against your will, you began getting sleepier as the nights got later. You were too enthralled in his stories to notice how his eyes sparkled while his voice stayed low and gentle, lulling you into a sleepy state where you could barely keep your eyes open. You almost always fell asleep before the story ended, leaving a perfect opportunity for him to tell you another story the next night.
You started becoming paler as your stay stretched on. You felt more weak and sickly and the Count himself began to tend to you. He would bring you soups and all manner of soothing teas, all while gently petting the top of your head and adjusting your blankets so that you wouldn’t get cold. It was a bit unnerving how he seemed to treat you like the most delicate child in existence but you were grateful to have company. Jonathan didn’t visit you as much. He seemed more paranoid the more sick you became and would regularly say strange things to you about ghost women in the castle and the Count being a beast. You didn’t understand what was happening. The Count merely shooed him away, saying that he was upsetting you.
You continued to get colder and weaker as time went on. After weeks of becoming sicker and sicker, you eventually woke up one night to freezing cold filling your entire body. You began to cry, desperate for help and warmth. You immediately were lifted into the arms of someone much stronger than you.
“Look at you, dear little one. You’re perfect. Shhhhhh… You’re alright. I’m right here. You’ll be okay.” You heard Dracula coo sweetly at you.
You leaned into his hold. He was cold too but he was familiar and comforting. Your cries died down a bit as the Count cradled you in his arms. You sniffled as your head laid helplessly on his shoulder. You were too weak to move on your own but you smelled something metallic and sharp and delicious. The Count hummed softly as he held you, lifting a jeweled goblet into range of your blurry vision. You were practically drooling as he brought the cup closer until you saw the contents.
Blood.
Your nose wrinkled even as your stomach rumbled, desperate for any sustenance it could get.
“My darling starlight, there is no need for disgust. You did not feel disgusted when the hen laid down her life and you consumed her flesh the first night that you laid down your perfect head under my roof. There is no need for that now either. You must nourish yourself, dear child. Drink.” He said softly, gently petting the back of your head.
You were practically in a trance as he brought the chalice to your lips. You were too hungry to resist the mouthwatering scent. You instantly began drinking, sighing in relief as you felt your stomach being soothed as it filled. You didn't think to ask where the blood came from as you quietly drank. You couldn’t think much at all. All you knew was that it was sweet and it filled your cold body with warmth as it filled your stomach. He continued to hold you once you finished the chalice and he began meticulously placing your belongings into the trunk that you had brought with you.
“Now, we must prepare for our journey to England, yes? I will pack your belongings. Rest, my sweet one. When you awaken, we will be home in your country. Do not fret. Your father will always take care of you, little one.”
Could you do a Bungo Stray Dogs Kunikida x reader(They are f Scott Fitzgeralds other daughter. They left after the death of their mother and sister since their father became suffocating) they work at the detective agency as their lawyer. Kunikida and them formed a relationship. When their father comes and threatens their boss, they try to talk to him on their own over dinner. “I want you to leave the agency alone. If you don’t……you will have no presence in your grandchild’s life.” Kunikida and the reader are expecting. How do each of the men react?
I honestly have no clue what I just wrote. But here it is
The sounds of clinks and chatter are heard throughout the vast hall. Any average person would stare at everything in the room, gasp, and immediately reach to keep their wallet in a protective hold.But one of these things just doesn’t belong here, that thing being the woman dressed in a rather plain secretarial uniform. A uniform consisting of a white shirt completely buttoned with a white bow tie, a grey vest, and a long navy blue skirt.
She gave the hall a one over and released a slight look of distaste. The patrons who got a good look at her gave scoffs and looks, but the woman simply didn’t give a fuck. (Name) Kunikida was used to this.
Growing up, you and your sister were used to being judged, especially based on who your parents were. Speaking of parents, one said he was going to meet you here to ‘chat’.
You gingerly took a seat at the empty reserved table, again receiving looks, but never let anything escape the poised and elegant mask of the past that you wore just for the occasion.
Figures, the very man who invited you here is running late. Doesn’t seem like he’s changed at all despite his claims.
Just as you were Ready to get up and leave a familiar tall blond man rushed to the table and spat out a quick apology.
“Ah, sorry darling, The meeting took a bit longer than expected. Were you waiting long?” You gave a slight roll of your eyes before responding.
“It’s no worries Mr.Fitzgerald,” You respond with a deadpan look, the man in question wearing look, a look that you took great satisfaction in.
“Erm…I hope you realize that I’ve arranged this meeting as your father…not as the leader of the Guild.”
“And I hope you realize that you’re mistaken. I’m not your daughter.” You stares straight into his eyes, an empty smile decorating your mouth.
“Sweetheart, I know it’s you. You can cut the act.” He has that look in his eyes, the same look he had every morning when you mustered up the motivation to actually do something back when the two of you still lived together. After the once happy family of four first lost one, the number then dwindling to two, and then one.
“What act?”
“You know the one. I’m your father no matter what, we’re family-“
“No, I already have a family,” You cut him off, “a family that you threatened and attacked.”
“Look, honey. I get this phase and I can somewhat understand why you’d involve yourself with..with those people, but-“
“It’s not a phase!” You shoot up from your seat, hands on the table.
“(Name) Daisy Fitzgerald! Calm down and sit down, young lady!”
“No! I won’t! And I changed my damn name, for your information!”
“Oh really!? And what-”, the tycoon’s interrupted by a waiter—
“Sir, there’s a scene. If you could-” —before the waiter has a wad of cash thrown at his face.
“Sir..this is-“
“Take it to a damn currency exchange!” Both father and daughter yell at him.
“No-I mean-“
“What do you mean you changed your damn name!?”
“My last name isn’t Fitzgerald, so fuck off!”
“Er-sir, m’aam? The commotion-” the poor waiter’s stuck watching the scene
“Zip it, peasant!”
Fitzgerald turns back you, trying to calm himself down.
“What’s your last name now then?”
“…It’s Kunikida. Maybe you’d know if you actually went to the wedding.”
“What wedding?” He looks at you like you grew 17 more limbs.
“I sent you and mom the invite, and you replied saying you were too busy.”
“(Name), you know I never read invitations! And your mother’s in an institution!”
“Well-”
“Would you both shut up and take care of the commotion by the door!” ..and the waiter’s finally snapped.
The room sits in silence for a second—
“What-?”
—before the door’s thrown open.
“(Name)!”
“Doppo!?”
A familiar blond man storms in and grabs you.
“What the hell were you thinking!? Ranpo told me that I should go find you, and then I see you having dinner with-with the leader of the Guild!?”
“Honey, I can explain-”
“And what business do you have with the asshole anyway? Do you owe him money?”
“I’m not a loan shark-” Fitzgerald looks at your husband like he’s the one responsible for Zelda being institutionalized.
“Shut the fuck up! What business do you have with my wife!?”
…
“WIFE!?”
“Would you all get the hell out before I call security!?” The waiter screams at last.
The three of you go outside for the inevitable talk.
“Mr. Fitzgerald, this is my husband, Doppo Kunikida.”
“Would you just-”
“Doppo,” You once again interrupt the blond, “this is my sperm donor-”
“Her father, I’m her father. And I don’t recall approving of this marriage.”
Kunikida freezes with an expression on his face that would be comedic under more lighthearted circumstances.
“I don't recall needing your approval, sir.”
“Oh my-Dad! Just call me dad! Or father! Hell, I’d even accept old man at this point!”
“Don’t yell at my wife, you-”
“You be quiet! (Name) Fitzgerald, young lady, listen to me for once.” Your father takes ahold of your shoulders, looking into your eyes with what looked to be an earnest and borderline desperate expression.
“No! No, I won’t! why should I!? Did you ever listen to me!?” She shoves his hands off of her, backing away to stand by Kunikida, who is still honestly very confused.
“(Name), I-…” He takes a step back, blue eyes aimed at the floor. “I admit..I haven’t been the best father…but I still love you…is a second chance too much to ask for?”
“….I don’t know…How do I know you won’t act like you're trying before dropping it later and just going back to how things were before…”
“I promise, I’ll try my best.” Your father looks into your eyes, his being filled with nothing but sincerity.
You wonder if it’s really possible that he’ll change, that he’ll actually try to be a father. You knew that he loved his family more than anything, it’s just that it was more times than not that he prioritized his business more than any recitals, competitions, concerts and parties.
"…Fine, but this is your last chance."
"Got it, kiddo."
"Ok, shut up."
"…Would he be willing to buy us a house?"
"DOPPO!?" You whip around to face your husband.
"What!? We both know we can't raise a kid in the agency dorms!" He gives you a look, challenging you to disagree.
"A kid!?" Meanwhile, your father looks like he's gonna have a heart attack and die before he even turns 40.
Kunikida turns to face the older man with a stern face.
"Look, sir. I can confidently say that if you even attempt to harm the agency, you will never be able to be involved in the life of your daughter, or your grandchild."
"He's right, Dad. I want you to leave the agency alone. If you don’t……you will have no presence in your grandchild’s life or mine."
"You called me dad," He stares at the two of you, coming to a realization, "Fine. I won't mess with your little agency anymore. And I will buy you two a house. I've seen the agency dorms. No way in hell I'm letting my grandkids be raised in that hovel."
You give your husband a sideeye as he lets out a sigh of relief and mutters, "Oh, thank god."
"Great, now that that's settled. We're going home, and you are gonna stop spamming the president." You link your arm through your husband's and turn to leave.
"Wait! Young man, give me your phone number. If you're gonna be my son-in-law, we need to meet up and lay down some rules." Fitzgerald pulls out his phone.
"But I'm already your son-in-law? And what rules? I know how to treat my wife right." Kunikida hands the man his business card but looks a lot puzzled.
"I'll be the judge of that, you-"
"Ok, we're leaving!" You take the chance to actually leave now.
Fitzgerald watches as the two of you bicker for a bit and get into a car, his eyes locked on your face.
GENDER: Femme
FANDOM: Honkai Star Rail
NOTE: FINALLY FINISHED THE FIRST CHAPTER. pretty proud of this. Enjoy!
TAGS/CW: Canon-typical Slavery, Aventurine is a Smoker, Aventurine is ALSO not mentally well, Capitalism, Reader is a Stellaron Hunter, Everything that usually comes with a Yandere Fic. Etc, Etc.
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For the majority of the day, Kakavasha was nowhere to be seen.
The rattling of chains could be heard in the early hours of the morning, [F/N] barely having time to register the loss of her brother’s presence. The loss of his warmth. Before the old door clammed shut on their cell, leaving her alone yet again.
[F/N] had never known where he went, but she knew what he did.
Followed by the rattling of chains was the breathy, tobacco-ridden voice of the man who kept them here. She didn’t know his name- But had quickly learned to call him ‘master,’ lest she warrant a sharp smack to the head.
The man had led her brother away, out of the cell, down the hallway. [F/N] knew that Kakavasha… Worked for the man. But she didn’t quite know what kind of work it was, only that it left him tired and sore at night.
And that it left her alone for hours and hours at a time.
There was very little to do in the cell other than wonder. The only furniture– If you could call it that– was a singular old mattress with a torn-up blanket, crammed into the very back corner. She had spent many, many days and nights just thinking about that mattress. About anything and everything, just to pass the time.
And even then, [F/N] could never stand her own thoughts. So she slept. Little hands over her ears, trying to drown out the thoughts in her head.
If she did it hard enough, eventually, she’d slip away into unconsciousness.
“..Ghh– H-Huh..?”
“Shhhh.”
“What..? ‘Vasha..?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Move over.”
“You’re back from work.. How was it?”
“It was fine. Just shut up and go to sleep while I check you.”
[F/N] stirred slightly as Kakavasha crawled his way back onto the mattress, tugging her towards him. She had quickly learned not to ask what all that red stuff was under his nails, nor why they were chipped, or why he always smelt like iron.
The odour reminded her of Sigoinia, or more specifically, that day. When the skies turned red, big sister disappeared with the rest of their clan. Kakavasha had ran. Yanking her along with him, screams and shouts ringing in her ears.
He never confirmed it, but [F/N] already knew what had happened to them.
“Nothing here..” Kakavasha had muttered under his breath, along with something about their older sister as he lifted up her rags to her neck. Showing the skin of her back, his hands poking and prodding at her.
He turned her left and right, always telling her to pipe down or go to sleep if she complained.
No blemishes, no boils, no bruises or breaks in her skin. Kakavasha was always vigilant. Checking under her arms and legs. He was never sure of what happened while he was away, when the chains were lugged around his wrists and he was herded away.
His hands were always trembling.
“If that bastard tries anything while I’m away, you tell me, understand?”
“‘Vasha.. I don’t understand–”
“Listen to me.” He had hissed. “If he tries anything, you kick and you scream and you yell and you tell me–!”
Kakavasha had very little left: values or material possessions.
He’d been stripped of most of them, along with his dignity. Being a slave left him very, very little. But he had managed to hold onto scraps, onto bits and pieces. Things that were considered too worthless to be stolen.
An old, bloodstained shirt from his father.
His mother's necklace, which once belonged to his older sister.
Her lucky charm in the form of a brooch.
And [F/N].
“You’re clean,” Kakvasha grumbled as he tugged down her rags, his shoulders going slack as he finally collapsed onto the bed. His arms reached out, not yanking or pulling, but simply guiding her back into her familiar spot, cradled with his body.
[F/N] sighed, finally feeling her eyes flutter close.
His head rested atop hers, his arms and legs caged around her smaller body, his own scrawny build almost enveloping her. Shielding her. Shrugging the old blanket over both of them, almost filled with too much dread to enter tomorrow.
What was to come when they woke up? He didn’t know.
“Can't let him touch you.. Won't let him touch you.”
Kakavasha was thinner by the day, and his actions became more and more erratic. She could feel the beat of his heart against her back, through his ribcage and rags. So, [F/N] kept her eyes shut, listening to the thick thud of his heart. The sharp breathing on her forehead.
Mama Fenge, Mama Fenge.
Eventually, like all other days, falling into a dreamless slumber.
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“Vain, arrogant, hedonistic... Out of all the planets I had to end up in, did it have to be Penacony?”
[F/N] muttered under her breath, pinching the fresh tube of lipstick between her fingers.
The Golden Hour, bursts of fluorescent rays dancing across the eternal night sky. Cars zooming down below as locals and tourists alike gallivanted about– Like ants from her perspective. The rich scent of penaconian delicacies and sickening fast food wafted up through the scrapers, the monorails, the advertisement boards–
Blegh!
[F/N] almost felt the urge to throw up a gut full of family-friendly rainbows– Shareholder sterilized– Prime for commercial.
Yet the underbelly was rotten. As she sat on the ledge, observing the indulgence below, she could catch the glow of casino lights in her peripheral vision. Cans stuffed full with olive green bottles, a woozy, ashy scent lingering on the locals’ breath.
Glitz, glamour, and glorious vices.
They seemed convinced that they were invincible, and in this dream, they might as well be.
“I mean, what place could be worse?” She mused, resuming the drag of colour across her lips. A look of displeasure was reflected in her pocket mirror. “The Epsilon System, maybe, but at least you don’t need a fortune just to enter. Harmony, what a joke.”
Her mirror snapped shut, tucked away in her breast pocket.
Though someone else wasn’t done, a taunting, amused voice cooed out from within the dark.
“Oh, little Peahen.. That face you’re making is souring all your makeup.” Sparkle mused from the nearby club chair. “You put so much work into it. When the IPC issues your wanted poster, do you really want the ruin of your work plastered across every wanted board in the universe?”
[F/N] snorted, flipping her legs back into the apartment.
“Trust me, when– and not if– things go well. They won’t be looking at my expression; they’ll be looking at the zeros on my bounty.”
The lodging was small, compact. Newspaper clippings were pinned to the wall with webbings of red thread– Headlines, dates, a pungent scent of marker ink mixed in with the roasted coffee grounds that powdered the desk below.
Scribbles of calculations, theories– Educated garble penned in black.
Click! An old lamp flickered to life when [F/N] tugged the chain. Secondhand. Illuminating the artillery below, laid out like meat on a platter.
“You sure these are going to go undetected? I understand the Masked Fools know a party trick or two, but I need to make sure.” [F/N] asked as she held up one of the pistols, raising it to the limelight. Observing the make, trigger to the barrel.
“Party tricks? These are way more than just party tricks, Peahen.” Sparkle almost seemed offended, if not for the uptick of her lips. “The guns, the dirks– Even down to the very last bullet. All of them will go undetected by the Family’s precautions, all thanks to the genius of Miss Sparkle, of course!”
[F/N] admired the gun in silence for a moment, letting it ferment.
“..Good.” She sighed, finding the pistol amidst rifles to be satisfactory. “Thank you, these will do great. You know how much this means to me, and I appreciate you taking the time out of your day to help.”
Sparkle smiled, a mischievous thing. Sitting back in her chair to savour the cold air, or perhaps the sight in front of her.
“I’m mostly doing this because I got paid by your mommy and daddy.” She teased. “Oh, and I should also mention that I bring news from Wolfie.”
“They’re not my–” [F/N] cut herself off, groaning. “Forget it. Just– Tell me what it is. I need to accidentally run into the Astral Express soon.”
Sparkle smiled wider, savouring her reaction.
“Well, if you insist..”
[F/N] holstered the gun around the strap on her thigh, hidden under the fabric of her skirt. A miniature dagger pressed to her ankle, squished between her skin and the leather of her boots. Her outfit was designed to blend in, both her figure and the arsenal she kept on her person.
It wasn’t her usual outfit, but Kafka had insisted..
“Apparently, the factions are beginning to filter in one by one. So far, the Astral Express has arrived alongside the Galaxy Rangers and the IPC.” Sparkle began, “But there’s more to come, of course.”
[F/N] adjusted her tie as she asked.
“And the representatives?”
“One, an alleged Galaxy Ranger named Acheron.”
“Right.”
“The Astral Express, of course.”
“Without needing to be said.”
“And a Stoneheart with an Intelligentsia Guild lackey. Opal, apparently. Don’t know about his crony in tow, though.”
[F/N] groaned as she finished adjusting her collar. A Stoneheart. Great. Lovely. It was the cherry on top, really– But it wasn’t a surprise. Though she had hoped for a lower-tier representative, perhaps P40 and below, it was without question that a senior manager would be sent.
Though a Stoneheart was a little unexpected. [F/N] wasn’t too versed for a number of reasons.
“Opal.. Can’t say I have a face for the name. Whatever, I’ll know it when I see it–” She sighed, beginning to head for the door. “I gotta run now. Firefly and Silver Wolf should already be hard at work. I can’t fall behind.”
But just as she laid a hand on the doorknob, Sparkle spoke once more.
“Say, Peahen.. All of this is quite a lot for a simple supervision script. That whole ‘shadow of the past’ and ‘difficult decision’ thing..” The fool inquired, hanging off the back of her chair.
Her fingers trailed the wooden spine, drumming, over and over.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared, Peahen. That isn’t like you at all.”
[F/N] paused, the door cracked open, spilling through a sliver of light– Striking her face. If hesitancy were a virtue, then she’d be a saint.
“..No, of course not. I have no reason to be.” [F/N] concluded after a moment, pulling the door open with a creak. “I’ve crunched the numbers, thought of every possibility. I’ve prepared. Whatever shadow comes to haunt me, whatever decision I have to make– I know that I’ll make the right one.”
Soon, she slipped out the door, closing with a firm click.
Sparkle lay her head against the back of the chair, watching the door with a look of amused befuddlement. It was only her nature; a fool was most accustomed to masks– It wouldn’t be right if Sparkle was unable to notice one from a crowd.
Oh, [F/N] was quite deserving of an invitation from the tavern.
Drawing her eyes to that wall of newspaper clippings, she could barely comprehend the garble that was jotted out in thick marker ink. What calculations could even venture to chart the future, to comprehend Finality?
That script, that single page. It was pinned to the wall, the heart of her collection. Sparkle wondered if [F/N] saw it as earning her stripes, or heeding the omen of a black cat.
Her eyes lingered. Only time would tell, she supposed.
But patience was never a fool’s game.
✦〘║♠♣♥♦║〙✦
“Champagne. Armand de Brignac. One– No, make it three bottles. Here, take my card.”
He swiftly presented his card– an inky black held carelessly between two gloved fingers.
The waitress scrutinized the plastic. It was nearly impossible to see in the dark, if not for the flashing waves of strobelights spilling into the booth. Her grip tightened on her pen, spotting the rings of luminescent colour in the owner’s eyes– Peering at her from behind the rim of his hat.
Her nose scrunched, knowing full well what those eyes meant. But as she pinched the card and turned to leave–
“Oh, and Doctor?” The executive’s voice broke through the noise. “Do you want anything? It’s on me.”
From across the booth, the doctor with the plaster head made no move to order anything for himself. Simply folded his arms and replied with a curt ‘no.’ Aventurine shrugged and waved off the waitress, who left quicker than usual to see to their order.
Cirque Céleste.
It was the name of the nightclub– A rather ambitious place within the depths of Penacony, the crown amidst jewels, listed on every tourist site in the universe. Countless pictures of the raving crowds it drew, gaudy cocktails glowing under strobe lights.
The underbelly, really. Even though their booth was stationed on the higher levels, the roaring of the bass and the cheers that followed filled their little alcove. The air was coated in smoke and the heady scent of spilled liquor.
Aventurine glanced at the hordes below, phone lights like fireflies, bodies meshing into a collective.
But when his eyes trailed up, he spotted the violet sheen of feathers, perched upon the lighting rafters. Sunday’s crow. Staring right at them.
“That birdbrain won’t be able to listen, not with all this noise. So relax, take that stick out of your ass and pretend that you’re having a good time. ” Aventurine leaned back. “I’d tell you to put on a poker face, but I think that plaster head covers it fine.”
“You must keep in mind that for this ploy to work, appearing disgruntled is essential. ‘Relaxing’ would be counterintuitive. Do you expect the Head of the Oak Family to believe my ‘betrayal’ if I appeared content?” Ratio quipped, seemingly disgruntled about the rather raucous atmosphere.
“Of course not, but you could at least try to be more pleasant to talk to,” Aventurine remarked, spotting the waitress hurrying back. “Forget about it. Let’s talk business.”
Champagne glittered as it filled the flute glasses. Peachy, citrusy and most certainly gaudy notes made up the aroma. Aventurine watched as the worker finished pouring his glass, giving a sly toast as she hurried off. Leaving them two and a half bottles richer.
Pressing the rim to his lips, Aventurine could only taste numbers.
Sunday wasn’t going to be an easy man to fool, but Achilles wasn’t an easy man to kill. Everyone had a heel. Aventurine was convinced of it. Some sort of dent in the armour that could be pierced, and for the Head of the Oak Family, they had to concur.
Sunday had two heels. His paranoia, and of course, his sister, Robin.
“And you can confirm that what you saw wasn’t simply a trick of the dreamscape? Robin, murdered before the Charmony Festival..” Ratio placed a hand on his plaster chin, as if in thought.
“Oh, I’m very sure. Unsure whether Sunday has caught on, but when he does...” Aventurine trailed off, tracing the rim of his flute glass.
Reaching over– He poured his second round of champagne, Aventurine tipped his head back, letting that numbing taste coat his throat—affluence in a bottle. A place like this would be bound to cover up Robin’s death for as long as they could.
And if Aventurine was to speak from experience. When Sunday was to find out about Robin’s untimely fate..
“Did you ever have siblings, Gambler?”
The doctor's voice broke the short silence.
Aventurine felt the last of the champagne leave the glass, setting it down slowly. The residue lingered on his lips, a faint buzz beginning to brew in his mind. He almost didn’t acknowledge the question. Letting it simmer, like the aroma in the air.
But he smiled, staring the doctor right in his carved eyes.
“Why do you ask, Doctor?” Aventurine asked like he was beginning to savour a bitter aftertaste. “You’ve done your homework. Your curiosity should be more than satisfied.”
“I’m not asking you out of curiosity, Gambler, I’m asking you because this may be a topic of common ground.” Ratio clarified. “Sunday will not be convinced by your words, but if you want to fool him into believing your intentions, you may want to approach from an interpersonal perspective.”
As the words left his mouth, Aventurine didn’t find it apt to respond immediately. The chaos continued to churn around the underbelly of the club, with the crowd's cheering and chanting. It all seemed so loud. And for what?
Pop! Aventurine uncorked another bottle, topping up his flute until it nearly overflowed.
“Well, Doctor, if you must know–” The Gambler frowned. “Two. I had two sisters.”
“And?” Ratio pressed.
Aventurine’s smile began to sour. Gripping the neck of his glass.
“My older sister, Sybell, died during the extinction event. She put me in charge of my younger sister and told me to run, and I never saw her again.” He spoke, “My baby sister, [F/N], lived for a few more years after that. I tried to raise her, but I failed, and because of my mistakes–”
Champagne began to drip down the side of his glass.
“Both of them ended up dead,” Aventurine concluded.
The Doctor’s expression couldn’t be read– Just firm, solid stone in place of features. If there was any sympathy, it would’ve been indecipherable. And Aventurine would rather lose a finger or two than reach out for that olive branch.
He didn’t need it. Aventurine, the Senior Manager and IPC executive, was more than settled. He had the best liquor, the best cigars, and could sleep with basically anyone he wanted, while having the credits to cover it all. Change out of his pocket.
Aventurine was safe.
“Hahaha!”
“Hm?”
Among that raving crowd– A shrill, girlish laughter suddenly broke through them all.
Through the rosy lenses of his shades, Aventurine could spot a figure lingering around the bar. Short, small, with twintails almost bigger than her.
A Masked Fool? Certainly. She had that laugh to her, the same kind all fools had, ravenously chortling like a pack of hyenas. Content, as she accidentally tripped up a clubgoer idling by, smiling as she heard the disturbed yelp and consequential thump!
Aventurine regained his smile quickly. A devilish thing. Sliding that champagne flute over to Ratio.
“I must go now, Doctor. Feel free to help yourself. I have new friends to make.”
“Gambler–”
Ratio protested as he watched Aventurine slip out of the booth, the heels of his shoes hitting the polished floors. The Doctor was left with a sense of frustration, and bottles of champagne were left unfinished or untouched. Credits down the drain.
Flighty, but not impulsive. Ratio felt a vein swell. The irritation that he was meant to portray would be all too easy. For as intelligent and calculated as Aventurine was, his demeanour was all too sour.
Whatever. Veritas had someone he wanted to meet himself.
✦〘║♠♣♥♦║〙✦
“Hey– Watch out!”
“Oof–”
[F/N] watched in mock horror as the poor girl collapsed onto the floor. Yelping, her milkshake went flying.
It splattered across the ground. Strawberry flavoured. A bloody puddle formed right in front of the Clockie Statue. A smattering of pedestrians glanced back at the scene, but quickly hurried along their merry way, letting the culprits pick up the slack.
On the ground, Stelle, the Trailblazer, had collapsed. A mess of smoky hair spilled across the bricks, groaning, rubbing the collision spot in the middle of her forehead. Golden eyes winced up, trying to get a good look.
There was a 68.5% chance that they’d bump into each other, right here, right now, on this miniature plaza. Her calculations were correct.
“Are you alright? I’m so sorry, I must not have been looking where I was going.” But either way, her expression turned into something concerned. Leaning down, extending a hand to the fallen girl.
“I’m fine– Thanks–” Stelle took her hand and was swiftly helped onto her feet.
There was no hint of recognition on her face. [F/N] figured as much. Even when Stelle was known to waddle behind Kafka like a duckling, they didn’t interact beyond glances. Kafka had specifically told [F/N] not to get attached, never to bother.
Her lips thinned, a look of reflection crossing her eyes. Kafka never said why, did she? At least not to [F/N]...
“Hey! Is everything alright..?”
The sway of platinum blonde, near silver locks caught [F/N]’s eye– Now, this was someone she recognized.
Firefly hurried up the steps, calling out to both of them, worry wracking her gentle face. Breathless, as she skidded to a stop. [F/N]’s eyes softened, unable to stop the smile that bloomed on her lips, all the while biting down the remark that felt second nature.
It was mutual. A moment passed before Firefly’s eyes lit up, faithful to her name. They had last seen each other a fair bit ago, having set off at different times, at different places to make things less conspicuous.
Seeing Firefly safe and sound, especially after what would come… Now, what was [F/N] meant to say again? Oh, right–
“Everything’s alright– My apologies.. I wasn’t quite looking where I was going and accidentally bashed into your friend here.” [F/N]’s eyes shied away in an earnest embarrassment. Only glancing back to peer at Stelle. “Are you okay, Miss..?”
“Miss Galactic Baseballer!” Stelle replied in full confidence, a goofy, proud grin plastering her face.
It wasn’t what [F/N] was expecting, but the humour was found nonetheless. Firefly giggled, covering her mouth to try to hide her amusement.
[F/N] chuckled. What a couple of dorks..
“My name is Firefly, I’m a stage performer from the Iris Family. I’m currently giving Miss Stelle here a tour of Penacony, since this is her first time and all..” The girl explained, gesturing over to the trailblazer, who was none the wiser.
“It’s nice to meet you both. My name is [F/N], envoy of Ruan Mei, #81 of the Genius Society. Though I’m usually just a lab assistant, for now, I’m her representative here in Penacony.” [F/N] greeted.
“A representative of the Genius Society?” Firefly awed. “You must be here for the Charmony Festival too..!”
“Correct– My boss couldn’t make it, so she sent me here in her stead.” [F/N] explained, glancing at the trailblazer. Thankfully, she wouldn’t know the jig is up until she asks #81 herself..
“Wow.. what are the chances I’d run into two representatives. It might just be my lucky day! A Trailblazer and a scholar from the Genius Society? I’m honoured.”
“Oh, I’m no one really.. Just some part-timer.” [F/N] shook her head. “But a performer from the Iris Family? You must be quite the entertainer yourself if you’re from such a prestigious institution!”
“I’m just an extra, no need to flatter me, Miss [F/N]..”
It was difficult not to giggle when [F/N] extended her hand.
Firefly eagerly took it, looking each other right in the eyes as they shook on it. Their smiles were knowing, almost amused, treating this like some roleplay game– Which it basically was. [F/N] remembered nudging her shoulder as they pointed out funny bits in their scripts.
They tried not to break as their hands parted ways. Keep in character now.
“Do you want to join us on our tour, Miss [F/N]? We’ve always got room for another!” Firefly offered, gesturing towards the scenery, the wonders waiting to be explored.
[F/N] nodded her head, accepting the offer without another moment to spare.
As the three of them departed into the flamboyant labyrinths of Penacony, [F/N] often found herself glimpsing back at Firefly. An unusual paleness. Was it a trick of the light, or was her condition rearing its head again?
Her form seemed stable enough. [F/N] made a mental note to keep an eye out, just in case.
Patting the girl on her shoulder, they shared a smile as they ventured forth. Through the dazzling street lights– Restaurants, bars, casinos. People were throwing up rainbows on the curb as Bloodhounds prowled the streets.
Disgusting. [F/N] thought. But Firefly seemed happy, so for now, she could put her distaste to the side.
✦〘║♠♣♥♦║〙✦
Up, up, left, down, right, down, right, up.
Her fingers clicked away at the controller, clutched tightly in her hands. Bubblegum popped. Laser-focused on one of the many screens stacked against her wall. Cursor jumping from left to right, face as steely as they come.
Plastic wrappers glistened under the digital light. Aluminum cans, pocky boxes, gum wrappers. The place smelled like a dump. A dump filled with caffeine and added sugars.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Cartoonishly loud gunshots blasted from the nearby speakers. Mowing down pixelated soldiers one by one. Silver Wolf cheered when the screen dimmed– A broad declaration of her victory was plastered across the screen. MVP. Her streak continued.
“Choke on it! You aim like you’re blind!” Silver Wolf cheered as the discordant curses of her fellow players echoed through the speakers. “What a bunch of losers– Get good!”
Those curses came to a halt as she logged out of the party.
Tossing her controller onto the desk, Silver Wolf leaned back in her chair, idly playing with the wad of gum in her mouth. Despite the win and her raucous cheering, a firm frown found its way onto her face. An air of annoyance crossed over her.
Blegh. She had been playing with randoms all day. Most of them were only moderately good at best, and don’t even get her started on the newbies..
Her eyes trailed over to the far end of her desk, past figurines and a mess of technical gadgets. Two controllers were holstered on a stand, next to an empty gap where Silver Wolf would normally slot her own.
A quiet scoff passed her lips.
They were much cleaner than the one she threw onto her desk. They were polished, well taken care of– Not a scratch to be seen. Unlike her own, which had seen better days.
The top belonged to Firefly. It had a simple exterior, a cream shell with a mild coating of dust. Firefly only had a mild interest in video games, only actively participating when either Silver Wolf or [F/N] decided they wanted to play.
She was more impartial to slower-paced games. She got her share of excitement while out on the field, Firefly was known to remark.
Silver Wolf didn’t agree.
And the second, sat on the lowest tier, belonged to [F/N]. It was a gift she had gotten for her eighteenth birthday. It was customized and cared for like a crown jewel. Silver Wolf remembered it vividly, as it was the year she had joined the party. The surprise that a group of wanted criminals celebrated such childish events was hard to forget.
Silver Wolf barely knew [F/N] at all, back then. But watched as she blew out cake candles anyway, with a bewildered sort of amusement. Kafka had pinched the girl’s cheek, remarking about how much she had grown in the blink of an eye. Kafka couldn’t believe it.
But when those candle lights burned out, so did a certain light in [F/N]’s eye when she heard those words. Now, Silver Wolf wondered what that meant.
Now they sat there on the stand, coated in a light film of dust. That script fiasco a few weeks back, Silver Wolf scoffed, more hassle than it was worth…
Really, they should just hurry up and see the script through to the end. Playing with randoms online was starting to get tedious.
RING!
Silver Wolf’s eyes jumped towards the screen closest to her right, caught off guard by the pop-up. It was from her communications app. An obnoxious dial tone blared. She clicked ‘answer’ without thinking.
Quickly, presenting herself before the microphone.
“Who is this?” She asked.
“Guess who~.”
A teasing, digitized voice rang through the speakers, giggling.
“Oh. It’s you.” Silver Wolf deadpanned, flopping back on her seat. Disappointed. “What do you want? What’s happened?”
“Ah, nothing.. Just that the information you gave me was false. It’s only a minor detail, but you’ll want to hear it.” Sparkle hummed. “About that list of guests you gave me..”
“The guests? What about the guests? That information came directly from The Oak Family.” Silver Wolf furrowed her brows.
“You know how it originally said that they sent the invite to Opal of the Ten Stonehearts? I just happened to be minding my own business before I found out I was being followed! The absolute nerve!” The fool cried. “Well, a Stoneheart is here, but you won’t like which one.”
Silver Wolf sat up straight in her chair.
The humming from her console continued to whirr, the only sound left in the room. From the other line, the fool could only wait in anticipation for a reply. Yet the timer on the call– Tick, tick, tick… It continued to rack up a higher number.
No response came. Sparkle grinned.
“Oh? Is that silence? Don’t tell me that Destiny’s Slave couldn’t predict this outco–”
Click! The line went dead.
The chair flew back, crashing against the far wall as Silver Wolf got onto her feet. The computer dinged. A messaging app popped up on one of her screens, and photos, pictures taken at a variety of angles, burst into view. Dozens of them. Lighting up her monitor.
Silver Wolf bit back a curse as she spotted that executive– Those eyes, that demeanour– It was unmistakable.
Aventurine of Stratagems. Senior Manager of the Strategic Investment Department. P45.
Destiny wasn’t easy to traverse, something that Elio had preached. And though it branched off into countless rivers– Silver Wolf’s horror wasn’t because Destiny’s Slave had gotten it wrong, it wasn’t because he was incorrect– No–
It was because he was right.
“Silver Wolf? Things okay in there?”
Her head whipped around. Eyes wider than the moon, as Kafka’s honeyed voice echoed through the door.
Creator has decent knowledge of at least a little of the Fallout lore outside of the show||Creator is trying their best||angst||platonic||reader not referred to as Y/N||
🪦 The apocalypse was no place for a child. You either grew up quick, or you died. Those were the rules.
🪦maybe thats why they were so strange. A little oddity wandering around, carrying a plush with them that nobody else could identify.
🪦they looked human, at first. They weren't a ghoul, at least, not fully. Something was amiss but nobody would be able to tell you what. The child wouldnt either.
🪦Wandering the wasteland in search of their Morher who had left them at an old gas station.
🪦It was the early days of the wasteland. When people still sought to hang onto the last vestiges of civilization.
🪦When people still clung to the fake title of America.
🪦Cooper Howard was tired. Beginning to feel the effects of radiation, and slowly turning into a ghoul. Searching for his family, who (for all he knew) were dead.
🪦so imagine his surprise, when he saw a little girl running around the wreckage of a city, calling out for their Mother. Not panicked, just very loudly announcing their presence to a VERY NOT FRIENDLY WASTELAND.
"Mom!" Their squeaky voice called out, a single fang poking out, even when the child's mouth was closed.
Cooper stared, for he was confused. In a situation like this. A child would cower, why wouldnt they. They would quietly cry, and most children were dead. Those who weren't suffered fates some would argue were worse than the sweet relief of nullification.
And here this child was, yelling for their Mother like they were lost in a shopping mall.
How peculiar
🪦Cooper, not yet completely hardened by the wastelands, but still his usual self, saunters up to the child. Unable to shake the voice in his brain, unable to shake the pleasent image of Janey in the child's place.
🪦After Cooper asks them a few questions. He leaves.
🪦and they follow.
🪦and follow.
🪦and follow.
🪦Cooper gets sick of the shtick really quickly. But quickly realizes the child isnt... normal.
🪦they weren't transforming into a ghoul, but they also weren't completely human.
🪦sipping irradiated water easily, eating a whole radroach for the fun of it. I mean really, they bit off its head!
🪦he might not endorse the small child following him.
🪦but he also doesn't shove them away.
After all. It's just them in the wreckage of the world.
A/N: probably ooc, mb. We dont really know how Coop was at the very beginning of the wasteland. I like to imagine he was jaded by the pre war shenanigans, but still not nearly as hardened as he ends up being in the main plot.
This whole thing is just a concept really. What is reader? Uuuhhhh
“Can I date Y/N, please?” [Genshin Impact - Diluc and Kaeya’s sibling edition]
Summary: In which your potential Genshin lover asks your Genshin sibling(s) if he can date you.
Characters: Diluc and Kaeya as your brothers, Aether, Albedo, Venti, Bonus: Tartaglia, gn!reader
Notes: There was a similar request a while ago but for the volleyball AU, I might do that or I might not but what are your thoughts on this brand new brainrot I have? I felt like I just needed a change of pace about what I write, needed something platonic-ish but also cute and funny??? idk. These days I feel like my genre is changing a little, or I just need a break from romance.
Warnings: crack elements, fluff, overprotective siblings, alcohol consumption, Diluc and Kaeya are civil towards each other, complicated deception in Tartaglia’s part, I only mixed and matched certain characters cause I thought those would be particularly interesting, some are longer than the others cause I enjoyed writing it more.
Your brothers: Diluc & Kaeya
Who wants to date you: Aether
“Relaaaaaaax, you’ve fought a giant dragon before, this is nothing!” Easy for Paimon to say, Aether thinks. Not for him, when he was going to ask Diluc and Kaeya for their blessings to date you. The Kaeya part, not too bad. The Diluc part…Aether didn’t know what to think.
theo van gogh was the one who suggested that his older brother vincent start seriously painting. as soon as theo was gainfully employed he gave vincent around 15% of his own yearly salary for art supplies, lodging, and food. about 2/3rds of vincent's surviving letters were to theo (including vincent's earliest and last letters), all of which were found stored in theo's desk. theo's child, vincent willem, was born on january 31st, 1890, and vincent was so delighted by his nephew that he painted almond blossoms for him. vincent shot himself half a year later on july 29th, 1890. theo's distress at his brother's death worsened his syphilis symptoms and he died half a year after his brother on january 25th, 1891 (four days before vincent willem's first birthday). theo was reburied next to vincent in auvers-sur-oise at the request of theo's wife johanna.
I understand wanting more "x gn!reader" and/or "x male!reader" but DO NOT harrass "female!reader" only writers please because that won't get you anywhere! I've been seeing a lot of people harrassing writers both here AND on wattpad because they only write "female!reader" fics, instead of writing the type of fics they want themselves or just looking in the right places
She had never been very good at talking to people. People were hard, not that she didnt find herself enjoying others' company though! Far from it. In fact she craved it on the regular. People were comforting and warm, the sensation of a compliment or the simplest conversation was enough to make her heart leap from her chest- and yet… She just couldnt do it.
Her books were always held so close to her chest, just like her heart. Every time she opened her mouth she felt like a torrential wave was about to tear her away, sweeping her off into the sea to drown. It was always so unbelievably awful.
The few people that even knew she existed besides her parents had taken to calling her wallflower. She didnt stick out, didnt do anything special, just watched quietly.
Maybe thats why she found herself so enamoured. [Name] had never been a romantic type. Sure, she read the occasional romance novel, but that was on the off week or month. Most of the time she found them quite un-inspired, same characters, same tropes, same dumb stories recycled over and over. She had assumed that real life love was the same, mushy and needlessly complicated. Full of un-nessecary drama that could all be solved if people just decided to communicate.
But this boy… This boy stirred something in her she hadnt felt in a long time. She had heard the rumors in passing. How a student got up and left on a trip with no notice to the staff or students. No word from his mother either. And it took him more than a month to return! Needless to say- [Name]’s interest was peaked. What could have possibly come up?
But she couldnt just talk to the boy- god forbid! So, when he finally returned after a month and a half- she decided to observe. Not stalk, [Name] had principles after all. She just listened in the halls, see if anybody knew anything about it. And regretfully, nobody seemed to know a thing. It was unbelievably frustrating.
[Name] even listened in on some other girls conversations, they seemed enamoured with the boy, so she assumed that they might know something. And yet- no. It was a complete mystery.
But… Even after her curiosity had largely subsided, she couldnt find it in herself to stop watching. Something about the guy was just so alluring to her. Sure, he looked good- but that wasnt anything to write home about. [Name] had marveled at many a pretty girl and boy before. Their school was not short on them. Maybe it was his aloofness, he never seemed to talk to others. Almost like her, though his form of social avoidance seemed a bit more… aggressive than hers.
“Shut up bitch! Buzz off!” She had recalled hearing him yell one day. The target of his verbal lashes were a group of girls who had been following him through the halls, asking many of the same questions she had. This- somehow didnt seem to deter them all that much. If anything it egged them on. [Name] had no clue how that could be alluring in any sense…
[Name] had come to realise her fascination was absurd by this point. There was no reason she should like anybody who spoke like this, who treated others this way— and yet. She did. So, for the sake of her own sanity she decided to throw herself into her studies. After all, she wanted to be able to get into a good university once this year was over.
Where was she going? Well… it was a bit embarrassing, but she wanted to go into Botany. Dendrology in specific. The study of things like trees, shrubs and lianas. Though she was mostly interested in trees. Her house had this massive old maple in it. Her father had told her it was older than his own grandmother. It had been growing for ages, maybe even before the house had been around.
[Name] had been captivated. Whenever she would go on walks into parks, she would always see if she could spot any tree trunks, or cut down trees. Their stumps always told their story. The rings telling their age, and the quality of the wood telling of the trees health. It enamoured her.
[Name] had also been very aware that most teachers found the study a bit… funny. They would giggle before telling her that she should pursue something that could benefit more people. Which [Name] couldnt understand! Science benefited plenty of people! Why was this any different?
[Name] sighed, flipping past the pages of the classification book. She had landed on a very specific page, the Acer Palmtum, or Japanesse Maple. The tree that had started it all.
She looked down at her notes, messily scrawled in the best handwriting she could manage with running on so little sleep.
She was so tired she didnt even notice the library door open. Nor did she take notice of the strangely heavy footsteps.
[Name] sighed, they would need some more books. Trees werent the only thing needed to get you into that course after all… She slowly go up from her seat, heading up to the librarians desk. The man who ran the schools library was a bit… difficult. He slept all the time, and when he was awake he certainly didnt act like it. He was messy, and quite rude. [Name] couldnt count the amount of times he had flat out ignored her presence.
“Uhm… Sir?” She called quietly, not wanting to make too much noise. He didnt move, not an inch. “Sir.” She repeated, a teensy bit louder. But it was still barely even a whisper. [Name] took a deep breath, “Sir.” She said with all the courage she could muster, she just barely managed to speak at what most would consider a normal speaking volume. And yet- the man didnt move a single muscle.
[Name] warily moved her hand forward, gently shaking the mans shoulder. “Sir… please.” She tried to call out, her voice back to its normal whisper.
[Name], who still had not noticed the new presence in the library. Was just as oblivious to said presence now watching her pathetically attempt to wake up the librarian. He had a few books of his own he was reading, all relating to the sea. Some on deep sea creatures, others on creatures that dwelled in coral reefs, others that focused on the topocgraphy of the sea’s terrain as a whole. Now, he didnt have horrifically advanced hearing- but for some reason, this scene was beginning to come irritating. He could barely hear the girl, she was in no universe causing any sort of disturbance. But it was all so— bothersome.
He sighed, getting up from his own chair, luckily the force in which he stood up didnt make the chair grate against the floors, the wonders of carpeting.
He walked up to the desk, where the timid girl was still in a nervous stupor attempting to wake the man.
He slammed his hand down on the counter, startling the man awake- and startling the girl even more. “Hey, wake up Bastard.” he ordered. The librarian swallowed, his adams apple bobbing up and down. “Oh-uhm- yes sir! What do you… need?” he trailed off as he watched the same boy who just demanded his attention walk off. The librarian scoffed, “Just who does he think he is?”
[Name] blinked, watching as he walked back to his seat. The boy she had been so keen on observing. Jotaro Kujo…
“Hey. Is there something you need?” The librarian rudely called. [Name] flinched, “O-oh! Yes! Uhm, do you know if the library has any books on shrubbery?” She asked. The man looked at her tiredly, as if to curse her for ever being sired.
“I… I dont fucking know- maybe?” Check the essay section. We have some academic papers.” He waved her away. [Name] nodded, “Understood.” She began to walk away, freezing when she remembered that she had no clue where that was. “Uhm- excuse me sir-?” She turned around to ask him more, but he was out cold again.
[Name] sighed. The schools library was massive. There was no way she would find it on her own… She nervously looked over to Jotaro. Taking a deep breath and walking over. She stopped about two meters away from him, “Hello. I wanted to thank you for helping me.” She quietly said. [Name] was expecting to be ignored, yelled at- any of the numerous reactions she had seen him display. But instead, he just tiredly sighed. “What do you want?” he asked. [Name] bit her lower lip, looking away. “Oh- im sorry for bothering you- really I am. I mean youre probably busy yourself. But, do you know where the academic paper section is?” she asked.
He stared at her blankly, looking at her face. She looked nervous, meek, almost invisible. It was odd… he had travelled with such colourful characters over those fifty days, and fought just as many with the same flare. It was odd to be back at school. Such a mundane setting that lacked the same strange wonder and terror he had faced. It was nice to be back, with his now recovered Mother.
He had been less volatile than before, tried to contain his frustration. Though occasionally he would still lose his temper, as much as he didnt really wish to. Anytime anybody asked about what he did, why he was gone- it just… it set him off… But this girl… He felt like he had seen her everywhere and nowhere. Like she was just omnipresent since he had returned. Always lurking in the corner of his eye. Some sort of constant. So to have her actually speaking to him, actually hearing her voice, it was certainly odd.
He grunted, “There in the upper section.” He said. [Name]’s eyes sparkled for a moment, like a meteor flying through a dark sky. “O-oh! Thank you!” she said, her voice a teensy bit louder. She headed up the stairs to the upper section of the library. Leaving Jotaro to his thoughts. Her voice is tolerable, quiet. He thought to himself.
[Name] looked around the upper section, eventually finding the shelf labeled— Academic research.
She looked around, sorting through them by alphabet, while ordinarily these would be sorted by authors, the papers were sorted by subject and title. Luckily she was able to find the Botany section, though she could only find one or two papers on the subject she was looking for.
[Name] sighed, heading back down the steps and sitting down at the table she previously sat at. She began to read through the papers, losing herself in the words. Luckily, the few she seemed to pick out were good sources. Eventually, [Name] decided to take the papers home, heading up to the librarians counter, this time- she just went behind the desk and signed out the books herself. It was easier than going through that whole process again.
[Name] gently placed the papers into the bag Zipping it up and slinging the book bag over her shoulder. [Name] paused when she noticed Jotaro was getting up as well. She felt a small sensation fill her stomach. Like butterflies punching her insides.
[Name] took a sharp breath, and stepped forwards. And then she stepped again, and again, and she walked. “Hey-” she got closer, whispering. He stopped, turning towards her with the same cold and apathetic look. Making her skin goosebump. “I… I uhm…” She muttered.
“What?” He spat. “Spit it out.” He demanded. [Name] swallowed any saliva currently in her mouth. She took a deep breath, “I… I was wondering if you wanted to like… Hangout, sometime?” She asked warily. He paused, just staring at the girl.
He was just… staring at her. He didnt say a word. He should have just rejected her. Tell her to fuck off like he always did. Call her a bitch- but he was tired. Whether or not he liked it- Egypt had changed him, and while he didnt appreciate the constant pestering of his other classmates. This… This he didnt mind. Though you wouldnt catch him admitting it.
He sighed, “Fine.” he grumbled. [Name]’s eyes widened, “R-really?” She asked, clasping her hands together and looking up at him hopefully. Jotaro scoffed, adjusting his hat and look away. “Shut up, woman.” He demanded. [Name] blinked. Woman? She thought to herself. Well its certainly better than annoying bitch…
“Alright… How about after school tomorrow?” She asked. Jotaro nodded, not saying a word. Almost berating himself for agreeing to this idea in the first place. [Name] could tell he wasnt going to make any suggestions. So-
“What about that new aquarium?” She asked. Jotaro froze, “What?” he asked. “Well- it was in the newspaper my parents were reading the other day. I checked out the article myself, all the pictures make it look beautiful.” She explained. Jotaro grumbled under his breath. Godammit…
“Yeah, fine.” he said reluctantly. [Name] nodded, “Well… We’ll meet up outside school tomorrow okay?” she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. He nodded, “Okay, see you then.” She spoke, her voice a whisper as she walked away.
* * *
The blue lights filled the tall halls, ocean life swimming through the grand tanks like petals caught in the wind. Mesmerising. The two had just been staring at the tanks. Neither had the words at the moment, just observing the ocean life in a comfortable silence. No need for words.
A jellyfish floated by, making [Name] pause. “Thats a moon jellyfish, isnt it?” She asked. Jotaro shook his head, “No.” he scoffed. “Its too clouded. Thats a cannonball jellyfish. Moon jellyfish are more luminescent. They have a flower shape on the top of their bell.” He corrected.
[Name] turned to him, thoroughly impressed. “Woah, you know a lot about jellyfish.” She mumbled. He nodded, “I think its cool. I could never identify all the different kinds.” She commented again. She stared at the tank, watching the jellyfish she had mis-identified float through the waters. She paused, “dont they normally travel in groups?” She whispered, not really expecitng an answer. “They normally do. The aquarium might have not taken it into account.” He said. [Name] frowned, “Thats so sad…” She said. “It would be nice for it to have some friends.”
“They arent smart enough to understand that concept. They travel in groups for survival.” He grunted. It was certainly a rude response, a correct one- but rude nonetheless.
[Name] giggled, “I know… but its a nice thought. I think everything deserves at least one friend.” She said, Jotaro blinked. I do not understand this woman. He thought to himself. Nothing about her made sense. She was quiet, but clearly not calculating. She was kind and didnt seem hostile, but wasnt an idiot. Unless she just so happened to be reading a book on tree bark for the fun of it. And yet, despite his confusion and hesitation, he couldnt find himself deterred.
Jotaro didnt say a word. [Name] didnt seem to mind. Just continuing to stand next to him. Completely unbothered by his lack of reaction. To her- it meant he listened. Quiet people always did. You were alone with your own thoughts more, able to understand others, maybe a bit too much. Dissect others words in ways they never intended for them to be dissected as. [Name] had overcomplicated many things before because of her own habits.
“Are there any other exhibits you want to see?” Jotaro asked out of the blue. The first time he had actually instigated a conversation that day. [Name] blinked, “O-Oh! Uhm… I dont mind whatever you would want to see. I dont know nearly as much stuff about this as you do.” [Name] explained. She really had no clue he knew so much about sea life, she just thought the aquarium looked pretty…
Jotaro sighed and shook his head. “Just pick one.” he gestured to the navigation sign. [Name] whimpered and went ahead, looking at all the exhibits listed. One caught her eye, “Seadragon?” She whispered.
The leafy sea dragon specifically.
“What about that one?” she asked, ghosting her hand over the small plate. Jotaro looked down and nodded, moving forwards without even speaking. [Name] caught up quickly, taking glances at all the exhibits they passed. Of course, she stopped to coo and squeal at the otters.
Eventually, they arrived. And [Name] did not regret her decision. The creatures werent huge, only about half a meter long. But they were beautiful, thin bodies that twisted up and down like pulled candy, leaf like protrusions springing off their body, colors like purple and red dotting the yellow skin beautifully. Almost like a more majestic form of moving seaweed, floating around the tank. She just stared up at them. “Why cant humans be that pretty?” she asked. Jotaro bit back the comment he so desperately wanted to make. Because they use their appearance to camouflage from predators. And instead- just looked at her as she watched them move, this undeniable twinkle in her eye.
It was nice, he was glad he had accepted. And Jotaro felt his lips turn up into a smile. Though as soon as she looked over to him it vanished. He pulled his hat down and scoffed, trying to cover his slightly hot cheeks. “Good grief…” he mumbled to himself. [Name] smiled. “Im sorry if I'm tiring.” she said genuinely.
This woman will be the death of me…
* * *
“This one! This one!” The little girl pleaded, bouncing up and down. She held a small cardboard book, little animals on the front. Her mother sighed, leaning down and gently taking the cardboard book from the four year olds hands. “The rainbow fish?” she read out the title quietly. She laughed, “Just like your dad, arent you Jojo?” She said.
She nodded. “Mhm! I wanna be just like him! Going scuba diving and catching sharks!” She clamped down her teeth, mimicking a sharks bite. Her mother couldnt help but let out a small laugh, That is not even close to what he does.
“Well. You'll be a great little shark catcher. I know it.” Her mother said, picking up the little girl and the book. “You think so?” she asked. “I know so, Jolyne.” [Name] said confidently, giving her a small peck on her nose.
🪼 reader is based off of my friends OC, Kaede Momoji. Though Kaede has a stand. As opposed to reader
FUN FACTS
🪼Jotaro is awful at talking to women. Shocker, I know.
🪼 in this version, Jolyne is only a fourth Japanese, though she still learns English when she gets older.
Is the Jjba fanfic community alive? I have no idea. But I have a concept. >:]
Picture this- somehow (against all odds) Jotaro Kujo, notorious woman hater, ends up taking a wife. She's absurdly polite, like- nice to the point where its concerning. Cmon girl! Grow a spine. Is she a stand user? Doesn't matter right now.
She gets a little upset when he goes to Morioh without any notice or contact and decides to come by and ask about it. After all- its just a small town! What's the worst that could happen?
Spoiler alert- dont be polite to random blonde guys in purple jackets you see on the street! ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU HAVE HANDS.
Idk I thought it would be a funny setup to have Jotaro fighting between his tough guy personality and his love for his wife in front of Josuke and the others. Also- creepy hand man dashed in there for flavor.
This idea is brought to you by- my friend! Who's been getting me back into jjba. And who has an OC which this drabble is based on!
Is the Jjba fanfic community alive? I have no idea. But I have a concept. >:]
Picture this- somehow (against all odds) Jotaro Kujo, notorious woman hater, ends up taking a wife. She's absurdly polite, like- nice to the point where its concerning. Cmon girl! Grow a spine. Is she a stand user? Doesn't matter right now.
She gets a little upset when he goes to Morioh without any notice or contact and decides to come by and ask about it. After all- its just a small town! What's the worst that could happen?
Spoiler alert- dont be polite to random blonde guys in purple jackets you see on the street! ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU HAVE HANDS.
Idk I thought it would be a funny setup to have Jotaro fighting between his tough guy personality and his love for his wife in front of Josuke and the others. Also- creepy hand man dashed in there for flavor.
This idea is brought to you by- my friend! Who's been getting me back into jjba. And who has an OC which this drabble is based on!
once again thinking about "the lottery" by shirley jackson.
imagine there was a man in the story who went around giving speeches about the importance of the lottery as a tradition. He said the casualties were unfortunate, but also an inevitable price of freedom. Imagine he treated those who sought to end the senseless cycle of violence with condescension and derision, calling them idiotic, naïve, and diseased.
yet when that man was selected for the lottery and stoned to death, everyone mourned him and said how unfair it was that a bright young family man should die so soon. And when people pointed out that this man was killed by a system he adamantly defended and worked to perpetuate, they lost their jobs and were shunned from the community as insensitive and monstrous.
Imagine. Hypothetically. For no particular reason.
Ouran High School Host Club - have you ever wanted to be a part of the plot? well in this fan fiction, you are put right in! y/n is the daughter of the Takahashi family who owns a successful technology company. through her friendship with haruhi she is introduced to the club and soon enough becomes a member. join her through the silly adventures and blooming relationships with her fellow hosts!
