#jp nowhere to run

[undercoverpena]

v. a new day

javier peña x dea! f!reader | chapter five of nowhere to run

Summary: Determined to do it better this time, Javier Peña returns to Bogotá to take down the Cali Cartel. With a new promotion, office and team, what he doesn’t expect is the pretty thing outside his office—or why they’re not allowed in the field. chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers. no use of y/n. smut. oral sex (man receiving), angst. bit of emotions are coming outttttt. Wordcount: 6.3k AN: apologies for the lateness, my personal life has just been throwing things at me and I didn't want the emotions to bleed in when i was editing. also, if there's errors, i'm so sorry, i have had no sleep. pls forgive me. as always, huge thank you to @yeyinde who allows me to ramble continuously and to @guyfieriii who is on her way to get me a magazine and send it to me. I adore you both.

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“I can’t believe you caught him?”

“Me neither.”

You lean back, eyes wide, twisting the cord around your finger.

“I did call you—last night. After we’d seen him. Rang your place, work...”

Swallowing, you smile. “I, um—“ 

Looking up as Peña steps out of his office, sliding his tie through the loop, eyes staring over you. Drinking you in. Making every part of you burn up under his gaze. 

“—had a date.”

“Oh. How did it go?”

Biting your lip, you watch him. How his brows furrowed, letting your eyes descend down before noticing his tie. How it sat off-centre—all threaded in a rush. 

You suspect he’s been ordered to attend a meeting. One likely about the day's events, one with a lot of Colombians, officials and higher-ups. So, you gesture. 

The corners of your lips slightly rise, watching his smile slowly grow.

“It was good. Nice.”

Van Ness snorts. “You going to see them aga—actually, fuck this, I don’t think I wanna hear anymore.”

“Wasn’t about to tell you, Van Ness. Hey—I have to go, please be safe.”

“Always am.”

“Says the man catching Narcos—anyway, Stoddard is here, speak soon.” 

“He best not be making you drinks…”

“Promise he isn’t.” 

You place the phone down, standing up as Peña comes to a halt barely an inch away from you. 

“That my name now? Stoddard.”

“Well, you’re struggling to sort your own tie, does seem a Stoddard thing to do, sir.”

He twitches his fingers at his side. Has been doing so since he guided Gilberto out to the flashing lights and clicks of cameras.

The significance of what they’d done—what he had done—crashed into him. Not knocking him off his feet, not even knocking him off his axis. But it kickstarted something.

It truthfully only slid over him when he slid into the seat of a car. 

They’d done it. Proved that surrender wasn’t the only option—that they could be caught. Because they had caught one of them. The ones they all said were untouchable. Right in his fucking home, hiding away. 

A new lease of life spreads as Javi swallows. A thrum of energy, one which has been missing since before he was sent back to the States, rippling through him as though it had never gone. Disturbing the regret he’d been feeling since… 

They’d done it. The thought rolls around, his finger occasionally stroking his bottom lip—sometimes pinching his thigh as the streets flash past the window. Doing so even as his knee hits the door, needing to, just to be certain he’s awake, and not dreaming. 

The truth it’s all a reality weaves into his muscles, the adrenaline bursting into his bloodstream—beautifully blending with the newly rejuvenated oxygenated cells that swim to his heart.  

He knows there's a shitstorm waiting for him at the embassy. For what he’d done—but, then, they hadn’t really wanted him here for the accolades.

Stechner hadn’t vouched for him because he’d been a rule-follower. More someone to blame, to use.

And now, he’d shown them the sheer proof that it could be done—the surrender could be nil and void. They could get more.

That’s what he’d thought as he had hammered his knuckles into Martinez’s door, pulling on a string marked ‘do not touch’. Hoping he’d be forthcoming—that he’d trust him to work alongside him. 

Javi hadn’t been sure if a speech on how much he wanted to do right would make up for what had already transpired. Less excuses spoken, and more acknowledged errors that he’d been determined—foolishly so. Blinded and only seeing through tunnel vision. Focused on the wrong thing; determined, but for what? None of it became clear even when he’d sat in his childhood home—or stood out in the field. The more he looked for answers, the less weight his reasonings had—the fewer excuses he could grasp at why he’d let things poison and ruin. 

In the end, he was grateful he hadn’t needed to spout any of that. The sheer opportunity that Javi had brought it to him, had been enough. 

Not sure any of his truthful ramblings would have made sense, anyway.

It was a true second chance. A hope which had been living in some recess, brushed off and placed front and centre at his feet. His hand outstretched, watching as Martinez shook his—a truce, of some sort, a promise. Maybe, in the smallest way, an element of forgiveness—not that Javi would allow it. It didn’t mean he’d squander or wreck it either, using it to stand a little taller and ensure his shoulders were a little more square. 

It’s why he takes a moment when the car pulls up outside the building. Sitting, spreading his palms in long strokes over his thighs. Catching his breath. 

He can already feel how things have changed. Already knows there will be faces turning when he steps inside, the burden of it meeting his shoulders again. Having temporarily moved it, placed it on the floor while he focused on what needed to be done. Now, the music was playing, and the true heaviness of what a second chance meant began to rest on his bones. The true power of doing good didn't just provide accolades, but gifted in moon-eyed agents and hopefulness he felt guilty squashing. 

It begins when he steps down the embassy stairs, bodies stopping, turning. His cheeks warming, ears burning as they murmur and mutter. Focusing on it, while another part blindly wants to ignore it as he enters the office. It’s why the first clap doesn’t register. 

It takes a moment, the applause slowly raining around him, covering him. Layering in thick noise that soaks into his skin and makes him feel cold, rather than joyous. 

The worst thing is, deep down, he knows there’s an old version of him who would have smirked at all of this. Who’d have relished in it. Likely lifted his chin, and shook each hand—man or woman—rather than sinking his chin to his chest like he’s currently doing. Trying to shy from it, get through them all as they begin to move closer, ready to congratulate him—shake his hand. 

A part of him knows he should be glad. Should be proud he has somewhat earned the notoriety he walks around with now. A slither of it, anyway. 

Finding Stoddard’s hand, he’s the only one he shakes. Not sure what to do with the rest of his body as he lets his eyes move across the room, seeing the closing circle of those wanting to thank him, celebrate and pat him on the back. But, his eyes land only on the pair which pulls him to shore. 

Yours.

The one person not clapping—leaning against your desk, head tilted to the side, doing your trademark smirk. The one Javi likes to think is just for him because he pulls it from you so frequently. The one which hits your eyes and shines like the sun on a cloudless day and warms him, even if he keeps trying not to let it. 

His heart sinks, just a touch. It’s still floating on the surface of the day and is the only explanation for why it doesn’t fall to his feet. Because as he lets his eyes fall over you he realises it’s the first opportunity he’s had to think of you. To allow himself to think of you. 

How he hadn’t had a chance to make sure you got home okay. The last sight of you had been in his office, lips swollen, eyes shimmering with post-lust bliss and your clothes a little off-pristine. Your hand on his wrist, sliding circles into his pulse—all thought-out and considered. You’re gonna get him, Javi. Your teeth chewed the skin of your lip as the words washed over him, a nervousness to you he rarely ever noticed—a slight discomfort in your forced expression.

But he hadn’t asked. 

Swallowing, he releases the hand in his.  

“–Where you going? C’mon, we want to toast you…”

Hearing Stoddard, but watching you. “Start without me.”

He never questioned the tight expression when you released his wrist, his hand grabbing at things from his desk—all set to walk out, to leave. Be safe, Javi. 

It echoes through his ears as he crosses the room, watching as you take a deep breath as the gap between the two of you closes. 

Javi could let himself feel it now—the spark and the concern. Could question it—let it fill him. He could find the words to ask why Cali undoes a part of you, why you always place one particular type of mask up when it's mentioned—when someone goes. Unpicking it all, seeing it all as though someone was showing it to him all on video. 

Having been so laser-focused before, he’d missed it. Placed them all to the side, noticing the other things—the ones inflicted by others' words and actions, and not the looming one hovering over you as you worked.

Something had happened to you in Cali. Something that was left from the reports. 

He tucks you away, hides you—keeps you purely for the times he can spare a second to truly think and consider you. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet—in the calm. A welcomed retreat, a safe haven. A person who populates a carved space in his mind, one you had barely needed to hack at to make. Because, in truth, he made it for you, found a place that he could store you in for when he felt safe enough to let you out, and he wasn’t sure what that meant. 

Now just watching in slow motion as you try to hide what he assumes is relief. 

It’s a gift, how you keep people out. One he would admire if he wasn’t on the other side of it and wasn’t able to recognise how quickly and smoothly you were able to slide up the veil which isn’t breachable. While he doesn’t know what monsters live in your wardrobe or which ghosts haunt you, he knows there’s a reason why you can’t tell him too. 

A reason why you talk in riddles whenever bureaucracy is mentioned. 

A discomfort which ebbs and flows, but never truly meets the two of you, even if it tries to. It did so before he fucked you on his desk. A look so similar to the one you gave him in his office, all soft eyes he wasn’t sure if he could ever earn deserving.

He knows people consider you to be a storm. A restless bundle of anger and lightning—thunder rumbling with every step of your heel.

But, as he comes to a stop in front of you, Javi realises he hadn't seen you like that, not since the first day when you'd tried to convince him you were. Not even as you slide around your desk, using the wooden furniture as a barrier between the two of you. 

Ironic, really. When the two of you used one similar as a surface for relief, hours and hours ago. 

Javi thinks you’re something more akin to a rain cloud—all set to burst and let whatever it is you hold close fall like raindrops. Maybe they’d be acidic, maybe they’d burn those unfortunate to be underneath, but he’d only care for the relief on your face. 

The one he’s sure is hiding behind the smile he’s being presented with. 

“Congratulations, sir.” 

He slides his shades from his shirt, nodding at you. Thanking you. 

Continuing, you clear your throat, “I think the Ambassador would like to see you.” 

You let your words wash over him, before dropping your hand close to your mug, slowly pushing it toward him. A gesture, a bold one in a sea of eyes. 

Voice dropping, you flick your eyes up to his, “You can have one sip.”

“And, if I take one more, cariño?” 

Your lips scrunch, a real smile—all teeth and lines in your cheek—so desperate to break out. “You wouldn’t want to know, sir.” 

Each time he swallows, he tastes your coffee. 

Desperate to find a mug, to enjoy one more sip in some silence—even light up a cigarette, if he could be spared. But, it’s one thing, then another. Almost feeling the flutter of anxiety and adrenaline merging into something unheard of. 

From the meeting to the note in his file, right to the press conference he had needed to lead. 

As soon as it ended, he was led to the staircase—practically shoved off. His feet all heavy, legs like lead as he steps down, ready to hide in his office and release many heavy, simmering breaths.

That had been his plan. His only focus—until he finds you waiting.

Then he thinks of the file room, his place, his desk…

It knots all inside of him—that thrum of disbelief that blends so disastrously with the sudden acknowledgement he doesn’t deserve you. Something he thinks a lot, yet is finding it harder to fight off under tiredness and waning adrenaline. 

It isn’t just whatever it is between you—the fun, non-committal thing neither of you are likely to acknowledge—but your mere attendance in his life. 

The way you make things brighter, shine something that makes the edges a bit more colourful and meaningful. Not quite ready to allow it closer to the centre, to let it touch the parts of him still tainted in darkness and regret. He doesn’t think even your shine can do that alone. 

Wiping a hand over his face, he moves towards you. Absently wondering when you’ve snuck in, having not seen you arrive or between his meeting finishing and arriving here. He’d looked for you, met Stoddard’s eyes and nodded for him to come.

Yet, here you are, shaking someone’s hand as Javi moves past another person, noticing that you’ve removed your jacket, so that he can see the outlines of your bra straps through the back of your blouse. He spots the clipboard pressed to your chest, hand wrapped around another mug—one he soon realises is the one you always give him. 

It diminishes, the part of him which wants to protect you from him. From the disappointment he tends to bring and the fact he’s so thoughtless. That even under your occasional frostiness and many secrets, you’re kind… sweet. 

It’s why he should blink, and turn away—not that he can tear his eyes away enough to solidify his thought of walking away. Your presence practically demands his attention, even if you’re talking to someone else. Your leg crossed in front of the other, a white pen tucked away behind your ear and hearing, as he moves closer, the Spanish flowing from your tongue. It’s crisp, and clear—rolling beautifully to his ear as the conversation nears an end. The man’s hand in yours, another placed on your arm—squeezing—bidding you farewell.

Something unfurls, and stretches its legs inside of him. Only settling when the man’s hand leaves your arm, leaves the close proximity and is walking away. 

“You making friends?” 

Shrugging, you smirk. “Apparently so. You looked good by the way.” 

“I did?”

Nodding, you hand him the mug. “Yeah. Like you were supposed to be up there. You know, before you get into your head, it should have been someone else.”

He nods, taking a sip, wincing at the strong taste of alcohol—frowning at you as you smile wistfully. 

“Thought you could do with something stronger. Also, you doing the conference is smart, I like it—takes the heat off Chris and Dan.” 

He nods again, taking another sip. More prepared this time to coat his throat in amber, staring, wondering how you managed to sneak a mug of bourbon to him. Not that he should be surprised. You seemed to manage to do a lot, keep things turning, keep things organised. 

“So, sir. How do you plan on celebrating?”

He takes a long drag, raising his brows that hopefully says, I think you already know, and from the smirk, you shoot him back, you do. The two of you fall into a walk, one where your strides match, where your eyes can be on the other but not walk into a thing or soul. Not speaking, not for a minute, your eyes taking him in—raking over him, assessing him for something (or nothing) he can’t be sure. 

“Are you waiting for an invite for that or…”

Shrugging, he watches you take the mug back as he narrows his eyes. “Never been one to wait to be asked to be somewhere, cariño.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” you comment, sliding closer as you press the button for the elevator. “So, what? You want to take me home and fuck the day away?” 

He looks at you, flicking from your eyes to your lips. Watching as you swipe the tip of your tongue against your lower lip. Your body heat is almost smothering his skin—even through his shirt and jacket. “If I ever say no to doing that, cariño. I’ve got brain damage.”

Smirking, you nudge him, the ding of the elevator's arrival making you step back. “If we have a choice, I choose yours. It's fancier.” 

“I don't know, I bet you have candles and decorative pillows.” 

“That what makes a place fancy in your eyes? The amount of candles someone has.”

“I have no candles.”

Snorting, you shake your head as he presses the button for your floor. 

As the doors close, he glances at you, how your expression is fixed on the metal doors. 

“I’m glad you came back, Peña.”

He hears it, and conjures another set of words. Ones he heard, ones he had been meaning to acknowledge—until the phone rang. Until life hurtled a thousand things, and then he was flying to Cali. 

Javi… I was worried. I was worried about you.

You turn your head, flicking your eyes over him. “Another night, I’d show you how unfancy my place is. Tonight, though…”

He knows. Knew even before the teasing had begun about his place or yours. His thumb strokes over his middle and index finger as he chews his cheek. 

“Plus, someone must have come in and knocked all your files on the floor,” you say, a lightness to your tone, “Left your office in a right mess.” 

The doors pinged open, only able to watch as you step out—not waiting for him, just leaving him behind, chewing his smirk.

The moment Martinez left his office, he just remained sat on the edge of his desk.

It had taken longer than it should to sink in. The power people had, the corruption, how it bled and rotted in every corner of the place. The enormity of it all, how without his sacrifice and him handing his notice in, it would have all been undone.

Martinez was the good one. The one who hadn't toed the line, hadn't stepped into the grey, hadn't even been selfish. Not like him.

He drained the glass, finished his cigarette—staring at a patch on the floor until his fingers wrapped around the edge, feeling marks along the wood. For a solid minute, he traces them, feels the lines, the deepness to them, until his mind wonders if they’re from you.

No, Javi. Just you. Only you. 

It’s instant, the way he darts to his bottom drawer, rummaging through until he retrieves the file—the one marked with your name. The one he’d sourced before, now paying attention to the parts he had ignored then. 

From the look on your face, you’re as surprised to see him, as he is that he knocked. A wine glass in hand, the red of it sloshing from side to side as he observes you process his arrival. That he even got out of the car. 

“You… know where I live?”

He drops his hand from leaning on the door frame, wiping his mouth. “I know where you live.” 

Opening the door, you step aside—hands tugging at your cardigan to wrap it around yourself. “Some could call that stalking, sir.” 

“Y’gotta stop with the sirs.” 

“Do I?” 

You smirk—it spreads up your cheeks until it hits your eyes, before your hand pushes the door closed behind him, keeping your eyes on him. 

All he can think is how pretty you are. How beautiful you look, even if you’re all undone—nothing on your face, a baggy t-shirt and some shorts, the thickest socks on your feet. 

“Drinking alone, cariño?” 

It’s slow, how you lean against the door. Not letting the two of them head further into your place. “Some days justify it. Don’t you think?” 

He does. 

More than he wants to say—not wanting to spoil your evening. Taint your home with talks of work and bureaucracy. Things he suspects you know more than you’re likely to share. The thick lines through your file are all an indication of it.   

You take a sip, and then another. 

Adding nothing, just letting him stand there, and he half wonders if you expect him to plead his case here—or whether you’re assessing whether to eject him out of your place as quickly as you left his prior. 

Mainly, he focuses on the fact it smells like you. Floral with a hint of darkness—your decor not all that different from his, just with additional touches. Some candles, some colour—some attempt at making the place feel like a home and not somewhere to rest your head. 

It’s only in the growing silence does he hear the faint sound of music, something low, involving a guitar thrumming in the background. 

“Are you lonely, Agent Peña?” 

He places his hand in his pocket, leaning against the wall opposite you. 

“No.” 

You nod, rolling your lips. “Just in the neighbourhood then?” 

He wipes his mouth as his other hand rubs his palm against his index finger in his pocket. Suddenly unsure why he was here—why he’d found your address and come. 

Javi wasn’t lonely. Didn’t have the time to be. A sea of paperwork on his desk, the guilt weighing down on him, hearing the colonel's voice over and over—the once pleasant taste of liquor now turning bitter in the back of his throat. 

“You forget I know where you live, so I know you’ve come out of your way.”

A laugh escapes and falls from his lips as he dips his head. 

It all of a sudden catches up with him, how the day has been a range of emotions. The delicate way things had needed to happen, the thrum of adrenaline—the joy, the meeting, the conference… 

Lifting his chin, he finds you still watching him.

No smirk. No smile. All soft edges and a comforting presence—waiting. For what, he can’t be sure, but he kicks off the wall all the same. Sliding his hand from his pocket, softly wrapping it around your hip as he places his forehead against yours, walking you backwards, taking the glass from your hand and placing it down. 

He tells himself he needs a moment. A stolen one that doesn’t bleed and change into others. A break in from everything, for a second. 

It only shifts when he wraps each finger on your hip, pulling you close. He keeps your shoulder blades against the wall, the guitar strumming increasing as much as his heart is beating. It’s all rhythmic, a remix of a song he isn’t sure of—but one he is tuned into all the same. 

It takes his breath away how you look at him. How it’s harder to stop himself from falling into them, worsening as your hand cups his elbow. At first, it’s all shared breath and waiting. Neither moving, his forehead just remaining against yours.

“Are you okay?” 

It’s so soft. Barely audible if his body wasn’t pressed against you, as he shakes his head, feeling your fingers slowly sliding in gentle circles around his elbow. Cupping him, keeping him as close as his hands keep you.

“What do you need?” 

He says nothing. Afraid that saying ‘you’ is too much. Having hoped the action would speak louder than the words as he stares into you—mixing brown with yours to make a colour artists dream of. 

“Hey,” you say again. More demanding, assertive. “Javi, what do you need?” 

He doesn’t think, doesn’t attempt to. Embodies the former version of him—the one which had gone to the Colonel’s home, to begin with—the one who takes and takes and takes. 

“You drunk, baby?”

He hears you swallow, before slowly shaking your head. 

“Good,” he whispers.

Closing his eyes, he lifts his forehead before dipping his head, his mouth captures yours. Javi merges the taste of sweet wine, whiskey and his cigarettes together, creating a taste so intoxicating and delicious he’s not sure he ever wants to come up for air. 

Just need you, he thinks as his tongue slips past your parted lips. 

Only want you, he urges as he feels your other hand sliding around his neck, deepening the kiss, his tongue able to taste that small whimper you do when he squeezes your hip. 

It’s different—but then each time he kisses you is. It has been needy, and passionate. Another, it has been soft, almost meaningful. Now, this time, he’s able to feel how warmth consumes him as you kiss him more purposefully. He deepens it in search of more, kissing you more hungrily, full of need and want.

It’s only when he feels your hand skate over the back of his neck, fingers teasing the bottom of his hair, does he slow. In time, pulling back, pressing his forehead against yours—bruising your hip with his fingers as he takes a few deep breaths. 

“Whatever it is…” 

“We can’t fix it, cariño.” 

It’s cold—the way he says it. Wishing he could retract it the moment he sees your brows scrunch. Instead, he shows no sign of letting up his grip on you. Hoping it’s enough to wordlessly explain that he needs you close, wants you—in fact. Needed to just be around you. Even if he shouldn’t, couldn’t… 

He presses two fingers to the side of your cheek, curling them. Your mouth parts, words—likely reassuring ones, knowing what he knows about you—are all desperate to fall and heal over the cracks. But, he shakes his head, watching your lips close as quickly as they had opened, your fingers continuing to draw shapes at the base of his hairline, studying him—searching his eyes.

Then, like a light in a dark room, understanding spreads across your gaze. Illuminating everything, likely connecting the dots in that beautiful—but deeply fascinating—way you do.

“Martinez…”

“Cariño… not, not right now.”

Slowly, you smile, spreading your fingers in his hair—tugging on him, pulling him with far too much ease until his forehead presses back against yours. 

“You did this… before.”

A breath escapes his lips. “Yeah…” 

“Why’d you come, Javi?”

I needed you.

It wasn’t a lie. If anything, it was more truthful than he cared to admit or accept. Which is why he didn’t say it—didn’t let on that the moment the walls began to tremble, he thought of you. Looked through the blinds, bitterly disappointed you weren’t there to be witty and sarcastic, smirk in that way that gets under his skin and make some flirtatious comment that makes it hard not to kiss you.

He could tell you that. Be honest. 

Instead, he says nothing, staring into your eyes until he feels your other hand, the one which has been continuing to grip his elbow, squeeze. 

“Okay. Lemme look after you,” you whisper, before kissing him.

Brushing your lips against him, before pulling away and then kissing him again. Testing the waters, looking for some form of permission as he grips your hips, giving it to you. He doesn’t protest when you begin trailing kisses down his jaw. Your fingers sliding around his arm, to his waist, to the belt holding his trousers up. 

Holding the base of your neck, he stares into your eyes, feeling your palm brush suddenly over his cock. “You don’t have to, car—“

“Shh,” you whisper. 

Slowly, he watches as you lower yourself to your knees, his throat going dry at the mere sight of you. Watching as you grip his cock. All teasingly slow, dragging it out—your tongue sweeps across your bottom lip as you continue to stroke him. 

Eyes closing, he lets his head meet the wall. Needing more—almost asking for it.

It’s what you want, he assumes. Because as soon as he reaches the point where he’s going to ask, you wrap your pretty lips around him. Taking note of the way you run your tongue around the head of him before licking a stripe along the underside of his cock. Finding that your eyes don’t leave his—watching what you do to him, enjoying it. 

It’s endearing.

A desire building, suddenly wanting nothing more than to watch—how he wants an unrestricted view of such beauty—of you taking him down your throat, of your cheeks hollowing, even if your actions are compelling him to close his eyes. 

You’re always pretty—but this is something else. You are on your knees for him. 

Taking as much of him as you can, your hand working what you can't fit—his own hand tightening around your head as you wrap his cock in warmth.

He feels you smirking, your mouth pulling back as you swirl your tongue over the head of his cock, a hand grasping the back of his thigh as you hum around him. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, cariño.” 

The tip of your tongue slides over his slit, making him hiss again—making your name tumble freely from his tongue as he leans himself against the wall for leverage.  

“I know,” you whisper, tracing your lips with his slick head, “Come down my throat, Javi.” 

He grunts, nails digging into his palm as you take him down your throat. His other hand bites into your head as you take him deeper, his hips spluttering, thrusting against your tongue. 

Your eyes have closed.

The window into your need to please him vanishes, and he wants to ask you to open them. To let him see. His finger strokes the top of your cheek, feeling the dampness from a tear at how deep you’re taking him. 

How deep you want him down your throat. 

His hand aids you, fucking into you as you hollow and moan—it vibrates all around him. It covers and smothers his own grunts and groans. The one you pull from him with ease, because everything with you he is slowly learning is easy. Not complicated—even if the situation is. 

All he can think is you’re a fucking goddess, an angel—something he’s now one hundred per cent sure he doesn’t deserve. 

He hisses out your name, feeling your hands clutch at him for balance, his moans filling the hallway of your place until he’s coating your throat in his pleasure. You lap up every drop of it, swallowing it—swallowing all of what he’s given you.

You don’t move, not for a minute. Him slowly pulling himself from your mouth, your hand wiping any spend from your lips to your tongue. 

“You’re… fucking—”

“Something?”

He snorts, arranging himself before he fastens his trousers, shaking his head. His hand offers out to you, pulling you up from your knees as he adjusts your cardigan—as he places his lips against yours. 

“I didn’t… this wasn’t why I came around.”

“Why did you… come round?”

His muscles tighten, swallowing as he stares at you. 

Then you smile, placing a hand over his chest, palm flat, fingers spread. “You got anywhere to be, sir?” 

Javi is frowning, before the rest of your words sink in. His hand captures yours, holding it flat against him as he shakes his head. 

“Because you’re here, may as well let me toast you.” 

Some mornings greet him loudly—sweat clinging to his skin, head hammering, and the world chirping.

The morning, it greets him gently, softly. The sun slides through open curtains, a calmer sound of occasional passing cars greeting his ears.

It’s only then that he registers he’s waking beside you. Your warm, soft skin curled against him—his own arm holding you close, keeping you close. 

It takes a second for the sleep to flutter past his eyes, glancing at the clock on your bedside table—the one which ticks ever so loudly now he’s awake. It’s obvious the two of you have managed to catch a few hours, remembering how he’d brought you in here—thrown your decorative pillows to the floor with a smirk that you kissed immediately from his mouth.

He had told you he wouldn’t stay. 

But, here he is. Now, though, he should move—even if he’s unsure if he wants to. 

It’s never been his favourite thing, waking up outside of his own space. Never mind besides someone else. There were occasions and exceptions. He’s not prepared or currently capable of assessing whether you’ve slotted yourself there, either. 

All he knows is… he likes it, being here. 

Enjoying the fact he’s been allowed to steal a moment of this—of you. Letting himself enjoy it, the sound of your soft inhales and exhales, the way you fit against him—not in a way that looks perfect but simply feels it. 

And it scares him. Just a little bit. 

That thought returning, the one which bellows and beats the drum that you deserve better: than him, than what he can give you and the life you’d have being around him. 

Pinching his nose, he knows he should go to the office. Should begin to unravel the highs and lows of the day prior. Make a start on the paperwork that is already mounting higher than he expected. 

Instead, he turns his head. Selfishly admiring the way you sleep so peacefully, how he’d somewhat expected to find a creased forehead or a tightened jaw. A part had also expected to hear nightmares plague you, knowing there’s something there—living in your mind. A bad memory, a past which hammers at you to get out. 

He’d half expected to have his own rear its head too. 

Instead, he’s sure none had greeted the night air. 

If anything, he slept peacefully, soundly. Almost oddly, for the most consecutive hours since way before Escobar was caught. He shuffles against the pillow, eyes widening when he realises and feels your head rolling ever so slightly on his chest. The smallest of movements that had rippled out into hearing you murmur. 

Freezing, it dawns on him that he doesn’t want the bubble to burst. Studying, secretly praying he hasn’t woken you, as your lashes flutter and your lips don’t press back together. He’s a passenger, unable to stop the undoing as your brows dip, your fingers spread over his chest—

“J-Javi?” 

It’s full of sleep, his name. And fuck, it has never sounded so nice.  

He thought it bellowed or screamed as he fucked someone was good, but this… is something else. It takes a chunk from him, snatches it, and renders him thoughtless as you turn your head on his chest, looking up at him, blinking. 

“Morning,” he whispers, thumb stroking your cheek. “I’m… I should go, cariño…”

You frown, not like normal—smothered in sleepiness that it doesn’t quite form. 

A string is plucked in his chest when your fingers slide over his chest, watching them rub at your face. A desperation rises in him to kiss you, to taste what morning and goodness is like—even if it's coated in unbrushed teeth and last night. 

But, it’s his moment to move—his chance. To relieve you of his presence. 

Not that he takes it. Instead, he absorbs the moment he was robbed of the first night he took you to his—of seeing you without armour or walls. 

“If y’give me…”

“—cariño—“

“… like fifteen, maybe twenty minutes,” you say, words monotone and low as your hand slowly drops from your face to his chest. “I need… really need a shower. Then can come wit’you.” 

As soon as you sit up, cool air brushes over the places you’d been against him—goosebumps appearing over his skin as you stretch. His hand lightly grasps your forearm, keeping you from sliding out the sheets completely as he whispers your name.

Lets it slide into the air of your home, around the two of you—the room he secretly wishes could pause time so neither of you had to leave.  

Not ready to face the fallout from Martinez, the look of ‘what’s next’ on everyone’s face. Never mind the note clearly from Stechner. 

“You don’t… you don’t have to, I need…” 

His fingers move to your cheek, sliding over your jaw, only managing a half-breath as you flick your eyes to look over him—stunning him in a shade, he’s not sure truly has a name. 

“W-what?”

“Nothing,” he lies.

Following your suit, he sits up, your sheet falling to his waist as he marries his lips back to yours. Fingers finding your chin, keeping you there, stealing another moment, and another. Doing so until your hand wraps around his wrist, thumb stroking a line up and down his wrist. 

“I need a shower…”

He snorts. “You don’t have to come with me.” 

“I’m normally in an hour or two later anyway—plus…”

“Plus?”

Your lips slide, less of a smirk but more than a smile. “I have to come and ensure you don’t fuck with my organisational system. No other reason.” 

“Not one?”

“No.”

He tuts. “I can keep things organised.” 

You scoff, light and airy. “Peña, you’ve been here five minutes, and your desk already looks like it’s amassed ten years of files, so—I’m gonna call bullshit. Respectfully.” 

“Respectfully?”

“Yes.” 

He allows a laugh to escape, light and airy, it falling from him with far too much ease. Pulled from some depths he hasn’t allowed himself to explore. 

Sliding from him, you stand, grasping at a t-shirt that begins to mist over your body—hiding your skin, your curves and the marks he’s left from view. 

“I… I should say, I don’t mind that you showed up at my place, Javi.”

He traces his mouth with his thumb, looking at you. “Javi, huh?”

You smile, rolling your lips as you sigh. “You wore me down.” 

“Go shower, I’ll wait for you.”

Pausing at the door frame, you glance at him, half your body framed in shadow and the other in the morning light. He’s not sure he’s ever seen someone look more beautiful in the earliest hours of a new day.

chapter six ->

[q1ngqve]

HI LAN!! i found your blog yesterday and i have to say. I'M OBSESSED. THE WAY YOU WRITE MAKES ME FEEL SO MANY (good) THINGS 😮‍💨 omg your aven… you made me obsessed with the concept of fox!aven… i’m going insane and after hearing his leaked jp voicelines WAA i'm crazy.

a scenario that’s been on my mind lately is.. imagine aven going to a casino and he takes you w/ him. then in the middle of a game he just starts feeling you up 😏 in front of everyone, telling u to keep quiet and saying it's cuz seeing u all hot and bothered like that makes him even luckier… and then right as you’re abt to cum he just stops. and yre so red and flushed you’re sure EVERYONE in the casino knows what this nasty man was doing HE IS SO MEAN AND TERRIBLE 🥺😮‍💨😮‍💨 UGHH

(hope you have a great day, tysm for this blog 🫶 can i be 🎀 anon? hehe

AHHHH knowing you guys like my stupid little brain rots has me giggling and kicking my feet in my bed 😖

fox! aventurine can be so so mean at times, especially when he's slightly tipsy at the casino with a shitty hand! he has you sat on his lap comfortably, his gloved hands groping at the soft pudge on your thigh, squeezing at it occasionally

but you're impatient and you just wanna spend time with him, alone in his room! so you squirm on his lap, your ass grinding up against his crotch, and he groans in your ear and tells you to "behave."

rubs your clit through your panties as his chin rests on your shoulder, his breath fanning your neck. you're even more annoyed now, he's making you so hot and bothered with so many other people in the room!

presses harder onto your clit so that you're hips instinctively move away from his fingers, which in turn makes his dick push up against you harder. you're trapped and you have nowhere to run, played right into his hands :(

you've always been warned to stay away from foxes, especially this one, but here you are, biting your bottom lip as you try to lower your voice, knowing everyone at the table can hear you whining no matter how soft you think you are

"aventurine..."

his eyes light up when the dealer reveals the last card, "pretty girl, you have no idea how lucky you make me when you're soft and whining in my lap." the others around the table groans when aventurine wins

you let out a soft cry of relief when he grips your chin to turn your head to the side as he kisses you, ignoring the other players and plops you onto the table, standing between your legs!!! "I'm gonna fuck you right here, right now, yeah? so take it like a good girl and give me all the luck you have for the next round."

[tempvstas]

Hello's I was wondering if I could request something. I was curious if you could do an overblot reader based on this song. (https://youtu.be/zEGbIpD6wNo), with the housewardens If you can I would be so grateful. If not that is okay, I understand. Just thought it would be cool. Thank you

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Content Warning(s): angst hehe, not really spoilers, but I mention every single overblot from in the game(in JP, not EN)

Character(s): GN!Reader, most of the TWST cast(too lazy to type out everyone's name)

Authors Notes: this song is so angsty i love it HAHAHHA, apologies for the long wait. Characters may be ooc because it's been a while. Also some parts may not make sense. Interactions can be seen as platonic or romantic.

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The Nowhere King

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It's dark.

You can feel a coldness against your skin, seeping into your bones.

The voices are muffled, where are you? You're sinking, deeper and deeper into a seemingly bottomless lake, the darkness surrounding you. A voice urges you to close your eyes, whispering for you to close your eyes and to give into the endless void closing in around you. And somehow you don't feel like resisting. You succumb, curling into yourself, feeling the tender embrace of your murky surroundings.

Unbeknownst to you, a battle rages outside of the safe haven of the cocoon you wrapped yourself in.

.....

"Dammit...no one told me they would be this strong," Leona grits his teeth as he stares up at your imposing form. Behind your current overblotted form looms a large imposing inky figure. An entity stitched together, its face covered with the distinct head of glass with leaking ink seen in all overblot forms, complemented with two large, round ears atop its head. Its white ink-stained gloves slam into the floor sending dust and pieces of the ground flying into the air. Everyone stands before you, worn out from how long the fight has dragged out.

Azul staggers to his feet, wincing slightly as he pushes up his glasses, his eyes narrowing as he stares at your form. "They've lost all sense of rationality. It appears as though our words at this point will be futile." Kalim's eyes go wide at Azul's words, panic settling into his gaze. "What do we do? We're never going to get them back." He whimpered.

From where he's stationed, Riddle peeks out from behind the fallen rubble he used as a shelter, he quickly shoots off a blast of fire in your direction. The blast does little to damage you but merely aggravates you more as the entity behind you swings its hands with reckless abandon scattering more debris everywhere. "Then we just need to blast some sense into them! Just like they did for us..." he stares around at his fellow housewardens. Behind the 7 housewardens, it's chaos. Ace, Deuce, and Grim can be seen running in your general vicinity distracting you as the housewardens formulate a plan to bring you back to your senses. Jack in wolf form charges at you with Epel atop his back, screaming obscenities that would send Vil into a coma, but he can't seem to bring himself to care at the moment

Amidst the screaming and yelling behind them, Idia shakily clears his throat catching everyone's attention. He shrinks away as 6 pairs of eyes focus in on him. "..H-how did none of us realize that they would end up like this? After all, we've all undergone this...a-and did no one notice that the Prefect was a bit off in the past few days?" Vil scoffs, shaking his head, "If you noticed, why didn't you say anything?" Idia moves to rebuke Vil but Malleus cuts in before he can say anything.

"That's enough Shroud, Schoenheit. Do you really think the Child of Man would like to see us bickering over them like this? As we all know, they are not the best at expressing themself." With his words, everyone falls silent. "So the best thing that we can do is to be for them, as they were there for us in our most dire time of need. All in favor?"

Leona huffs, pushing Malleus aside, his shoulder bumping against Malleus's as he gets up from where he was standing. "No need to tell me what to do lizard," he sneers, holding up his staff, watching you swipe repeatedly at the first and second years waging battle against you. "And it looks like to me that the herbivores out there are starting to get worn out, while we sit here all nice and pretty," he pauses, his gaze becoming unreadable, "As much as I hate the idea of working alongside Malleus, I can't help but agree with the fact that they were there for all of us, and I don't like someone being able to hold something against me...so what say you that we go out there and bring them back to their senses?" he grins, leaping down from atop the rubble and running out.

Vil sighs, before dusting himself off and standing tall, a smirk on his face, "I can't let Leona take all of the glory so it looks like I'll have to join myself." As he follows suit, the other housewardens also get to their feet, charging at you to assist their underclassmen.

.....

Hush now, hide, all you little ones Rush now, into the middle of nowhere Singing and laughter will die

You find yourself drowning, struggling to make sense of your surroundings. You feel an overwhelming sense of grief, coupled with anger. Anger at Crowley for being useless and deflecting as always when questioned about a way for you to get back home. Anger at being forced into situations that you had no control over. And most of all, anger at yourself for not being able to do anything and always feeling helpless. Never being able to fend for yourself and always having to depend on others to be able to take care of you.

It's happened time and time again, with Riddle's temper tantrum in the Heartslabyul rose maze. Leona's rampage in the Spelldrive stadium. Azul's meltdown over his contracts in the Octavinelle dorm. Jamil's outburst over winter break. Vil's spiral during the VDC competition. Idia's change of heart on the Island of Woe. Malleus forcing everyone into a slumber. It was all too much for you to bear.

Give in. The voice in your head whispers. Rest now, and let me take over.

Dreamless sleep, follows the Nowhere King When his kingdom comes, darkness is nigh

That's right, you're nobody. Insignificant. Useless. No place to truly call home, and no one to go home to. The darkness seeps in coaxing you to give in.

...

Give in.

.......

...........

Give in.

.................

........................

.............................

GIVE IN.

For a brief moment, you open your eyes and visions flash before your eyes. Your friends in danger, everyone screaming and running. Is that...your doing?

You raise your hand to your head to alleviate the pounding headache racking your brain, but your horrified to see that your hands have morphed into ink stained ones, covered and dripping with black liquid. You feel nauseous and sick to your stomach, covering your mouth to resist the urge to hurl out your guts right then and there. You stumble as you shield your face from the blinding blasts of magic flung your way.

Quiet, crawl to the in-between Silent, secretive feeling Of fearsome hatred that reaches the skies

You've always kept your emotions to yourself haven't you?

As much as you hate to admit it, there's resentment that has always bubbled beneath the surface. You don't show it but you've always been envious of your friends who have somewhere or someone to go to whilst you're stuck with nothing, no one to rely on.

.....

Isn't that right?

Why was it you of all people?

It's not fair, isn't it....?

The mask you've so carefully crafted starts to slip and crumble to pieces. You fall to your knees, gasping for air. Inky tears stain your face as the ground bites into the palms of your hands.

You will bring joy to the Nowhere King When he sees the light leaving your eyes

.....

With one final combined magical blast, the entity behind you lets out a roar of pain before collapsing. It's delicate glass face cracks and shatters, more ink spilling out. As it falls, so to do you, your body crumpling lifelessly. Thankfully before you can hit the ground, Malleus swoops in beneath you, cushioning your fall with his arms. Gently, he cradles your face checking you for injuries before setting you down, his arms supporting your body.

"We...did it?" Azul murmurs in disbelief, his breathing ragged. Everyone else doesn't seem to be faring better than he is. It seems everyone has worn out themselves in the battle.

Everyone crowds around you, concern in their gazes. Before long, your eyes flutter open, and you let out a groan of pain, trying to sit up. "WAAHHHHHHHH Y/N!!" Grim sprints up to you, leaping into your lap, his face tearing up. Still out of it, you grunt, feeling his paws make impact with your stomach and you let out a sharp exhale of pain. It's funny. You think to yourself. Grim never uses your actual name. "You had me so worried don't ever do that again okay?" Grim sniffled rubbing his face into your shirt. "Ew Grim, you're getting snot all over me," you scold him lightly but your voice is soft as you press a hand to the top of his head.

"Take it easy, you're hurt." Vil murmurs, kneeling next to you and wiping your ink-stained face gently. His tone although laced with worry is uncharacteristically soft, his slender fingers feel cool. You inadvertently find yourself leaning into his touch, shutting your eyes.

"W-what happened?" you croak out, wincing a bit. Everything aches and hurts whenever you move.

"You...overblotted..." Jamil murmurs quietly. "You weren't acting like yourself and before long...." he gestured at you, indicating the state you were in.

You inhale a shaky breath, pushing yourself up so that you can face everyone better. You feel tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill out. "I'm sorry everyone...I didn't mean to cause so much trouble. I lost my cool...and it ended up with you all forced to use your magic against me and wear yourselves out. All because I couldn't control my emotions..."

No one speaks a word, letting you convey your thoughts. There's a brief moment before Grim walks up to you, gently pressing a paw to your leg to get your attention. You stare down at him, surprised by the serious look on his face.

"Henchman, no one is going to blame you for feeling emotions," he pauses. "You've already done so much for everyone, there's only so much stress you can take." Grim shrugs looking at everyone around you two. "I keep telling them that they're working too hard, but they always insist on seeing things through to the end." Everyone laughs a little at Grim's wording and you can't help but crack a slight smile at his words.

"Classic prefect shishishi," Ruggie smirks, his hands resting behind his neck. You shake your head, setting Grim down on the floor as you attempt to get up. Riddle takes notice of this, leaning down and offering you his shoulder for support. Gratefully, you take it, leaning heavily against him.

"Prefect," your name hangs in the air as you stare at Riddle curiously. "I can't promise that I can offer the best support to you, but I hope you know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I will be here to listen to you...even if I can't offer the best advice." Deuce comes up besides you, supporting your other shoulder, "Ace and I will be here too, you're not alone in this," he grins, allowing you to shift your weight against him.

You feel yourself start to tear up again, your head falling over, your shoulders shaking. "Thank you..everyone. Thank you for bringing me back."

"You were there when we were at our lowest. It's only fair that we return the favor."

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[otomefiend]

Alfons Sylvatica

Story Event: I'm his cherished doll

Epilogue

Prologue (@/archiveikemen ♡)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Premium

It took a sweet moment (cause translating sexy times will be the death of me) but here are the smuts. Of the particular sort. Make sure you're fine with microphilia (?) before you step in.

Kate's inner monologues when dealing with Alfons always crack me up. Yes, Kate, Alfons is your little angel. 💅 Most certainly NSFW, possible dubcon? (of the jp sort... you know the gist)

~~~

Alfons: "Come now, don't run away, pretty please."

Kate: "Ah......"

The doll's dress was already crumpled next to me.

Alfons: "It was kind of Victor to arrange underwear for you."

He hooked his fingers on my undergarments and tried to pull them off.

Kate: "Wait, stop..."

Alfons: "Oh? You forgot your part of the deal? I did everything you asked to help you."

Alfons: "In return, you're supposed to let me have my way with you."

Kate: "But..."

Alfons: "I do find your sincerity very admirable..."

Kate: "......gah."

(I shouldn't... and yet today, for some reason)

His sweet words, true or not, shook my heart.

(It's okay...I'm so small he can't do anything extreme)

I obediently removed my undergarments, leaving only a veil-thin petticoat.

Alfons: "Heh, a lot of people would wrap you in silks and keep you as their cherished doll."

Kate: "Not many are as twisted as you..."

Alfons: "Is that so?"

He removed his leather gloves, then placed me on his palm, unable to escape, and touched my chest with his fingertips.

Kate: "Ah...!?"

Alfons: "An honest and sensitive body that responds so well to the slightest touch."

Alfons: "A body that is willing to take it further, wouldn't you agree?"

Kate: "Stop... don't rub it... a-ah!"

I jumped as he caressed me through the thin fabric.

Alfons: "Haha, what a response when all I did was use my fingertips."

Alfons: "Is the (small) size making you more sensitive?"

Kate: "I don't knnn..."

Alfons: "Well, let's find out, shall we?"

Alfons: "We can report our findings to Roger afterwards."

Kate: "Wahh!?"

He brought his lips to my chest.

Both of my breasts completely disappeared, covered by his mouth, and this abstract situation made me feel a mixture of pleasure and fear.

(I-I'll be eaten...)

Alfons: "Heh... don't worry, I won't use my teeth."

Kate: "ah, ah....aah!?"

The tip of his tongue caressed my nipples through the fabric of my petticoat.

It moved slowly, but perhaps because of the difference in size, even the slightest stroke felt like a strong, unrelenting stimulation.

Alfons: "Mn... see, it feels good, doesn't it?"

Kate: "uh...ah, aah, hnng!"

I felt a shiver and involuntarily arched my back, letting my breasts press against the tip of his tongue.

Alfons: "Mm... you're so good at begging for more."

Kate: "Not tru... ahh....."

My head was spinning with embarrassment as I became more wet with each passing moment.

Kate: "Alfons... enough..."

Alfons: "......oh, forgive me, did you want me to lick here too?"

Kate: "aaahh!?"

A large tongue made its way between my legs,

and started rubbing against my wet spot, up to my navel, sparks flying before my eyes at the intense stimulation.

Alfons: "Heh, you like this, don't you? Shall I give you more?"

Kate: "Alfons, no... that's, na-ah...!"

Trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure, I stretched my legs whilst pushing my hips back… but

Since my body rested on his palm, there was nowhere I could retreat.

Alfons: "Ah, you're so wet..."

Alfons: "You know what I mean? Listen... Even a little poke with the tongue sounds amazing."

Kate: "......nnn...."

The tip of his tongue rubbed my juices up and down, playfully teasing at the entrance,

leaving a throbbing sensation and a growing heat in my lower abdomen.

Alfons: "It's a shame I can't touch you deeper than this."

Alfons: "All it takes is a little thrust of the tongue, and it tightens so much."

Kate: "Ah, no, no good... nn..."

As the relentless caress continued, the heat that was simmering up to this point suddenly erupted.

~~~

Kate: "Haa.... haaa..."

As my body had gone limp from the excessive play, Alfons gently rolled me onto the bed.

Alfons: "Heh... you did well."

Covered in doll sheets, I felt like I was in a fluffy dream.

Kate: "Are we done already...?"

Alfons: "... fancy something more extreme?"

Kate: "C-certainly not..."

I expected him to do whatever he wanted, but suddenly he gently wrapped me in a sheet, leaving me confused.

(When did he manage to prepare the sheet..?)

(It's as if this was his plan all along...)

I wanted to say something, but possibly due to my small stature, I had no strength in my body,

The intense pleasure left me depleted and sleepy.

Alfons: "... sweet dreams, dear Kate."

The voice that reached me sounded incredibly soft.

It made all my anxiety and confusion disappear.

(Alfons....?)

I could feel a gentle warmth at the nape of my neck.

Alfons: "Maybe you'll naturally return to your usual self by tomorrow."

Alfons: "Don't think about it... but have a nice dream tonight."

~~~

--- as soon as I woke up the next morning, I sat up and checked my limbs.

(...... oh, I'm back to normal....!)

Kate: "Hooray!"

I couldn't help but shout out in delight,

Alfons: "Ng... what's with all this ruckus so early in the morning..."

The sheet next to me stirred, and my whole body stiffened.

Kate: "Eh.... huh?"

Alfons: "Good morning, Kate. Did you have pleasant dreams last night?"

Kate: "Why are you in my bed, Alfons...?"

Alfons: "Why, you ask? Of course, it's to make sure you didn't fall off the bed and get seriously injured."

Alfons: "I'm glad you're all right."

The sound of his unexpectedly gentle voice made my heart flutter.

(Come to think of it... I feel like he showed me some pleasant illusions last night)

(Maybe he originally intended to tire me out and put me to bed...)

(Is that why he made that promise to me...?)

If the medicine worked, I'd sleep peacefully and uneventfully.

If it didn't... he'd help me escape the anxiety and sleepless night with his lewd pranks and sweet dreams.

Was this his plan to let me face the morning without worries, no matter the outcome?

(Although he's outrageous, pushy and mean...)

(...his unconventional methods might have saved me yesterday)

His smile seemed kinder than usual and I smiled back in response.

Kate: "... I see."

Kate: "Thank you for watching over me..."

Alfons: "It was just a pretext."

Alfons: "There's something I wanted to do after you woke up, in case your size returned to normal."

Kate: "... and what's that exactly?"

Alfons: "What indeed."

The bed creaked as Alfons' shadow fell over me.

(What...?)

Alfons: "We can't report whether the smaller size increases sensitivity..."

Alfons: "Without performing the same activities at the larger size and seeing a difference in response."

Kate: "Wha..."

Alfons: "Shall we do something even more indecent than yesterday?"

The joy of returning to normality faded away, and I found myself at his mercy once again.

It seemed I was destined to be swayed by Alfons ---,

The size of the body notwithstanding.

~~~

[bluesylveon2]

If you still have spots open could I get Idia + Kiss the girl? Your writings are so cute I adore them 😭💙 and please take your time with this!

I immediately saw this and thought Book 7 😂. Also, I'm in the EN server, so idk how exactly Book 7 goes and this is my interpretation of it. TO THOSE IN THE JP SERVER, DO NOT SAY ANY SPOILERS! I WANT TO BE SURPRISED WHEN IT COMES OUT.

I hope you enjoy, anon! 😂

Notes: mentions the Ghost Bride event, Idia has pink hair again, Ortho is a supportive brother, Yuu is bold, Idia doubting himself, true love's kiss, and me blanking out on how to write internet slang

Word Count: 1042 (yall these are getting longer lol)

Warnings: slightly suggestive ending (Yuu and Idia are basically making out), possible ooc characters, and not beta read.

Night Raven College was mostly fixed after the Malleus' overblot. The only thing left could be found in Ramshackle dorm, where the Prefect was asleep. She fell under that condition after getting hit by Malleus' magic, and, according to Sebek, there was a chance she could sleep for eternity. The staff, Grim, and the first-year group stood around her bed when some fireflies appeared. 

Crowley greeted the fae prince,  "Did you find anything?" 

Malleus nodded, and Crowley sighed in relief, "I am willing to try anything as long as it doesn't hurt Yuu. Besides, who is going to do my taxes?!" he exclaimed. The other staff members shook their heads. 

Crewel rolled his eyes and slapped Crowley's head, "Snap out of it! My pup's life is in danger!"

Annoyed by the headmaster, Malleus cleared his throat, "The only way to cure Yuu is for true love's kiss."

“True…love’s…kiss…” Everyone said and stayed silent to process everything. 

Crewel frowned, "I will not allow a random slimy mutt's lips to touch my pup's. She needs someone that she is close to."

"How about one of the first years?" Trein asked, but Ace (the self-declared leader of the group) shook his head.

"Not a chance. We got brother zoned by her."

The rest of the first years nodded in agreement, "And that would be weird to kiss your sister," Deuce added.

Crewel sighed, "Does anyone know who she was the closest to? Any suggestions?"

Slowly, Ortho raised one robotic arm, "I have an idea." 

---

"WHY DO I HAVE TO DO IT??"

"Because you are close to the Prefect, Big Brother, and you like her!" Ortho exclaimed, causing everyone to question what was going on. The group could hear a lot of ruckus downstairs, and Idia screamed, "I want to live!" at one point. 

Finally, the duo appeared at the Prefect's door. Well, it was Ortho carrying a flailing Idia until he dumped him on the floor at the end of the bed.

Crowley squatted to Idia's level, "Now, I'm sure that Ortho filled you in on the details, but we need you to kiss Yuu so she can wake up?"

"Can't you try to shake her, pour a bucket of cold water on her, or use Sebek's loud voice?"

"MY VOICE IS NOT LOUD!" The half-fae shouted into poor Epel's ears. 

Sam sighed and turned to Idia, "This is getting nowhere. Maybe my friends from the other side can convince you?" He smiled, and some eerie shadows appeared behind him, causing shivers to run down Idia's spine. 

Trein sighed, and Lucius let out an annoyed meow, "This is getting us nowhere."

"I agree! Is the audience necessary?" Idia asked, and Crowley stood up. 

"Fine. We will compromise. We will all leave you alone so you can kiss Yuu," He gestured for everyone to leave, and everyone followed. 

"Wait!" Idia called out, "I want Ortho to stay."

"If you insist," Crowley said and closed the door, leaving the two brothers alone. 

Ortho floated to Idia, sitting beside him, "What's wrong, Big Brother?"

Idia sighed and looked down at his hands, "Remember that time I got kidnapped by Eliza?" Ortho nodded, "This is the same level as that. Instead of me being in the afterlife, I am possibly Yuu's true love. Do you know how frightening that is?"

Ortho sighed and looked at his brother with big yellow eyes, "I do. I was the one who asked Yuu and the others to rescue you, but now it is the opposite. You can save Yuu!"

Idia turned to his brother with doubt on his face. "But what if it doesn't work? Then what? Even if it did, Yuu would be stuck with a loser like me."

Ortho frowned, "You might think that way, but you are also a genius! Plus, unlike Eliza, Yuu actually likes you, so the feeling is mutual!" he exclaimed with sparkles in his eyes. 

Idia smiled, now with determination, "You're right! I got this!" He marched over to where Yuu peacefully slept, unaware of everything around her. 

Ortho floated to the green armchair to give his brother some space, "Yeah! And you don't even have to kiss her on the lips. Malleus said true love's kiss could break the curse, but he never said where."

Idia's hair turned slightly pink at the thought. He would be down to kiss Yuu (preferably a short kiss and not a full-on makeout session) if she was awake and not cursed. He looked down at Yuu's sleeping form. If there was one thing the otaku could admit was that she looked adorable, but he would never let anyone hear that out loud. 

Idia slowly leaned down toward Yuu's face. Ortho watched as his brother's hair turned even pinker the closer he got. Idia stopped momentarily when his face was a few inches away to admire Yuu. "Please wake up," he whispered, pressing his blue lips on Yuu's forehead. 

Idia quickly jumped away but remained at Yuu's side and held his breath. A minute had passed, and there was no movement from the Prefect. Idia turned to Ortho with a defeated look. "It looks like I lost, Ortho. Let's try to find someone else."

"You missed," a voice called out, causing Idia to freeze. He looked down at Yuu, who was wide awake but had a blank expression.

"W-what??"

"I said, you missed my lips. You kissed me on the forehead instead," Yuu smirked, causing Idia's hair to turn pink.

"I mean, you were asleep, and then there's consent-"

Yuu rolled her eyes, "Well, I consent to it now," she grabbed Idia's collar and pulled him down, causing him to fall on top of her on the bed and for his lips to meet hers. 

Ortho stood up and cheered, his eyes closed with glee. "Yay! It worked, Big Brother! You are Yuu's true love, after all," The boy opened his eyes to see that the two were enjoying their second kiss a bit too much. Despite the boy getting human characteristics recently, he was still learning. He knew some things about love thanks to being in the Film Research Club.

Ortho immediately flew out the door. "Let me get the others before it gets out of hand!"

400 event is still open!! (only one spot left!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[steven1123x]

A Half-Gem Boy’s Adventures In The Creek: Chapter three.

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They were all at a restaurant called Grand Lux Cafe. It was a restaurant by the mall in Herketon, Steven was having that sleepover with his friends the next day, but Greg decided to go to a restaurant with his son and his friends.

Steven knew what he wanted, so he was playing Angry Birds as they waited. Craig was talking with JP and Kelsey, and Connie looked at Steven.

“Hey, Steven?” Connie asked

“What’s up?” he looks up at her, pausing his game.

Connie wasn’t sure if he would want to go back. but it was worth a try, he can see Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl again. and probably Craig, Kelsey, and JP can come to Deleware too. She looked at him and said it.

“Do you guys want to come to Deleware with me for a day, maybe Steven could show you guys around Beach City and hang out, Steven. Sadie and Jenny keep asking me when you're coming back.”

Steven sighed and pulled out his phone and texted them on the Group Chat that Jenny set up for them for hangouts and plans.

Hey guys! Steven started the chat back up, it’s been a while since they’d hung out.

Jenny texted Steven! what’s up, dude?

Buck texted Yo, Steven Quartz, what’s up?

Sour Cream sent a rock-on emoji.

Steven smiled and typed: Hey guys, I’m doing okay. Do you want to come to Maryland maybe this weekend to hang out with my friends in the creek?

Yeah! we want to hang out with you again! we can go to the arcade there, what do you say? Buck texts

Steven smiled and then texted the group; Yeah! only if it’s alright if my new friends come along.

Of course, Steven! any friends of yours are friends of hours! We’ll see you maybe…Next week? Sour Cream can maybe bring his DJ equipment and DJ for you guys! Steven read Jenny’s text

Sour Cream then texted back. I’ll make it happen, bye. Universe, We’ll see you probably…Next Friday?

Steven smiled, he texted a thumbs-up emoji then put his phone on the table. Connie also smiled.

“Well?”

“They said that they will come to Maryland on Friday, I’m so excited!” Steven said. Connie smiled. “I am happy for you, Steven!”

“Thanks, Connie. Maybe you can see them too. I would love to have everyone back together. Wait you didn’t meet them, did you?” he asked

“I don’t think so, I met Jenny Pizza before,” she said. Steven nods. He believed her one hundred percent.

Steven, the Creek kids, and Connie were back at his house, watching a movie, Connie had to go home on Lion but she thanked Greg for letting her stay for a few hours. She hugged Steven, they said their goodbyes and she mounted on Lion as a portal opened up and she went through it.

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The boy was running through the dark forest, he was trying to get away from whoever was chasing him. Steven was alone, Craig, Kelsey JP, and Omar were nowhere in sight.

He ran as fast as he could. The figure was close.

He didn’t dare to look.

But when he heard the voice. It sounded so, familiar.

“Hey, Rose! Where ya going!”

“How did you find me?” Steven asked the figure inched closer, and Steven just saw a pair of orange eyes that were glowing in the dark Creek. The figure didn’t say anything but it inched closer, and closer.

Steven saw Jasper hanging over him, smiling evilly at him as she picked him up by his shirt. Steven was struggling to break free, he tried to summon his bubble but it wasn’t working, his powers were not activating.

Great…the ONLY time that I need my powers they DON’T WORK! Is this how I’m going to go out, by the hands of an insane Gem who has it out for me?

Steven then felt a hand ring around his neck as he was being choked. Steven gasped for air and he was struggling, his legs desperately kicking her body for her to let go, but… there was one problem. She was a gem and he was half of that.

He tried to put his hands on her face to get her to stop, but nothing was working, Jasper just stood there silently, not saying a word but, she had that creepy smile that showed all her teeth, like the Joker’s — but more terrifying.

At least to him. Then she said something.

“Well, well. Rose, how does it feel now?”

“L-let me g-go…” The boy gasped.

Jasper laughed, Steven felt a chill go down his entire body. She lifted his shirt so it exposed his gem, Jasper grabbed it and pulled it out, and Steven felt the pain go through his entire body. It was the worst pain he’d ever experienced in his life.

“Hey, Rose,” she said, Steven struggled to keep his eyes open, but he managed to see her holding the diamond-shaped gem in her right hand.

Without thinking, Jasper squeezed hard on his gem, shattering it. She laughed evilly as she threw Steven into the Creek where his body couldn’t be found.

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Steven jolted awake. He was hyperventilating. The boy lifted his shirt and touched his gem to make sure it was still there. Steven breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the covers off of him, he stepped out of his room and went to his dad’s room.

He walked up to him and poked him in the arm. “Dad…” he whispered.

Greg opened his eyes to see his son. “Steven?”

He knew that something was wrong, he saw tears welling up in his eyes. Greg got up and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, what’s wrong, kiddo?”

“I-I had a nightmare….”

Greg’s heart tightened, he hadn’t had a nightmare since he was seven. He always had the gems to protect him, but they weren’t here.

“About what, buddy?”

“J-Jasper… She was chasing me through the Creek in the middle of the night and… And.” he was breathing heavily. Greg put a hand on his son’s back, rubbing it. Steven’s breathing relaxed a little as he calmed down, but his voice was still shaky.

“S-she… She found me and choked me. and… And…” he clenched his shirt where his gem was then, he leaned on his father’s shoulder. Greg didn’t want him to continue. he got what he was trying to say.

“Oh, Steven…” he hugged his son tightly, Steven rested his chin on his shoulder as the tears kept flowing. Greg hugged him, and Steven started sobbing heavily, he knew that the nightmare he had wasn’t real, but it was scary.

Very scary for him.

Greg didn’t understand gem stuff, but he understood that his son needed comfort right now, that was all that mattered to him. Greg continued to rub his back as he felt him not move, his breathing was steady, Greg looked at him and smiled. Steven was asleep.

Greg set him down on the other side of the bed and he laid down with him, He closed his eyes and went to sleep also.

Steven was in the living room, watching a recorded episode of Regular Show, and his father was making eggs for the both of them, Steven was feeling better after last night. He wanted to go to the Creek today and play with Craig and the others. Steven ate his eggs and went to the creek.

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“You had a nightmare about Jasper?” Craig asked, they were all at the stump. He was with Kelsey, JP, and Omar now at the creek. Steven nods, JP and Omar are listening in.

“Once I had a nightmare of a pack of dogs trying to eat me.”

“This is serious JP, I met her. She knocked me out and put me on a prison ship heading to Homeworld, it was traumatic for me.” Steven said, sitting on the ground and hugging his knees. Craig walks up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Steven looked up and hugged him, He wrapped his arms around him in an embrace. He has never seen Steven so afraid before.

Steven looked at the ground, he thought of Jasper finding them and then capturing them. Craig put a hand on his shoulder, Steven looked up at him. “Steven, It’s okay. What if she doesn’t show? What if you're safe here.”

“I… I don’t know… I don’t want to move again, I’m getting adjusted here and I love it here.” Steven said. Craig nods, they all have his back.

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“Thanks, Kit!” he said. opening up his bag of popcorn he got from The Traiding Tree. Steven felt a little bit better about this. But — he still had a bounty on his head for what his mom did, and Lapis and Jasper are still fused at the bottom of the ocean. And he’d seen that, he felt bad for Lapis, but he knew it was for the best to keep Jasper underwater and contained so she wouldn’t escape.

Steven went back to where he usually hung out with The Stump Kids. A boy was there that he’d seen before, Craig was also on a BMX bike that must’ve belonged to the boy, Steven saw the new kid that he’d never met before.

The boy was short and had dark skin, with hair covered by a silver helmet and thick eyebrows. He wears a black shirt with blue long pants and brown shoes.

“Hey, Steven. Meet Cannonball, Cannonball this is Steven Quartz Universe.” he introduced.

Cannonball waved and leaned on the handlebars of his bike. “Hey, Steven. What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“I’m fine, are you a friend of Craig’s.” Cannonball nodded.

“I heard you moved in three days ago. How do you like it so far?” Cannonball asked. Steven smiled and nodded.

“It’s great here! I love it, everyone’s so friendly here too, and my friends are coming too on Friday to hang out.”

“Cool, Can’t wait to meet your friends, Steven,” he said, Craig smiled. “Hey, Steven. Wanna come with us, I have an extra bike or the Ten Speeds can lend you one,” he said.

“Yeah!” Steven said.

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Steven heard Greg in the living room strumming his acoustic guitar when he walked inside the house. He didn’t hear him come in Steven walked into the living room, and Greg looked up and saw his son.

“Hey, Dad.” he smiled.

“Hey, Schu-Ball, what’s up?” he smiled. Steven sat by him, and Greg placed his guitar down.

“You alright?”

“I-I’m just nervous… What if Jasper comes here?”

Greg smiled softly. “Steven.” he started. “There is no way that she will come here, she’s fused with Lapis. Remember? you told me that yourself.” Steven nods

Steven could still see his gem in Jasper’s hand, and her shattering it. Steven shook his head as if the dream was going to go away. “Steven…” Greg said putting an arm around his son. “It was just a dream… Dreams can’t hurt you… I have bad dreams all the time.”

Steven looked at his dad and smiled, he always knew how to make him feel better. He hugged him, Steven felt his phone buzz and got it out. It was a text from Craig, they were going to have pizza and watch Sonic Underground.

Graig saw the text. “Go, Steven.”

“Thanks, Dad!” he smiled and hugged him, Steven ran out the front and went to his neighbor’s house.

Greg looked at Rose’s portrait again and picked up his guitar. He got up and went to the basement.

He came back with his electric guitar and his amplifier. he sat on the floor again, his back resting on the back of the couch, He connected his amplifier, inhaled deeply, and strummed his guitar, Still looking at the large portrait.

“I close both locks below the window

I close both blinds and turn away

Sometimes solutions aren't so simple

Sometimes goodbye's the only way, oh

And the sun will set for you

The sun will set for you

And the shadow of the day

Will embrace the world in grey

And the sun will set for you”

Greg sang the lyrics to the song. His heart tightens with the pain and the loss of his girlfriend, he misses her every single day, but he does have Steven to help him through this.

“In cards and flowers on your window

Your friends all plead for you to stay

Sometimes beginnings aren't so simple

Sometimes goodbye's the only way, oh

And the sun will set for you

The sun will set for you

And the shadow of the day

Will embrace the world in grey

And the sun will set for you”

Greg felt tears leave his eyes, but he didn’t care if he’d cried, or if Steven could walk in at any moment. This was the first song he’d listen to when he held Steven in his arms for the first time, he just kept playing and singing the Linkin Park song.

“And the shadow of the day

Will embrace the world in grey

And the sun will set for you

And the shadow of the day

Will embrace the world in grey

And the sun will set for you”

He stopped strumming and looked up at it again. Greg stood his guitar up on the back of the couch and texted Steven that he could spend the night with Craig if he wanted to.

Steven texted back. Greg smiled, glad that his son was having some fun. He knows Duane but they’d never hung out before. Maybe that’ll be an idea, they can go to a sports bar or something, eat wings, and drink some sodas. And just talk. Greg walked upstairs to his bedroom.

His bedroom is spacious and well-appointed, with a large bed. The bed is made up of two pillows and a throw blanket, giving it a cozy appearance. It is situated in front of a large window, which provides ample natural lighting and a view of the outside world.

The room is furnished with multiple chairs, including two chairs positioned on either side of the bed and another chair placed near the window. The chairs are arranged in a way that creates a comfortable seating area for relaxation or conversation.

There are also two lamps placed on the bedside tables, adding warmth and illumination to the space. Additionally, a television is mounted on the wall, providing entertainment options for the occupants. A potted plant adds a touch of greenery to the room, creating a pleasant ambiance.

Greg plopped on the bed and turned on the TV.

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A\N: Hi guys. I hope you guys like this chapter. I don’t know if Jasper will show up in the fic at all.

But it was just a dream, and maybe Greg was right. It was just a dream and she wouldn’t show up (Besides, she is fused with Lapis in the ocean. so there is NO WAY that she will come for Steven and the others) Well, bye guys. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

[ageless-soul-au]

hey so asau has destroyed my perception of what is and is not a long story. i started reading the jurassic park novel and got curious about how many words it has and i was genuinely a bit disappointed when i saw that, according to google, it has 117,645 words and that the second book has 108,000, because hey just Confidential is longer than those combined. and then i realized that just Confidential is longer than both of the jurassic park books combined.

and i need you to understand that the jp books ain’t small. the lost world width is only a little under the length of my pinky. both are over 400 pages long. confidential and the stolen altars have a little over double the words of the entire jurassic park book series. and then you add on faction and all the other stuff y’all have currently published on ao3 and it ends up being 475,278. that’s longer than IT, which is 445,134 words long (and that book is thick as FUCK it’s such a pain in the ass to carry around. asau would be even more of a pain in the ass to carry around if printed. that’s so fucking cool)

and then for kicks n gigs, i looked up the word count of Les Misérables, the book commonly referred to as The Brick due to it literally being the size of a brick (using the pinky scale again: a little wider than the length of my pinky.) turns out, it’s 545,925 words long. y’all are gaining on les misérables. and, from what i can tell, the story’s still relatively at the beginning. what the fuck. what are you two on. how have you guys done this. this is genuinely one of the most impressive things i have ever seen what the fuck. give yourselves the biggest pats on the back you more than deserve it

i definitely could’ve made this way more concise and coherent but i need y’all to understand that asau has permanently altered the way i see book length. i finished a tale of two cities in a week because i was like “pfft this is nothing compared to asau.” you guys are insane and i am here for it. waiting for the day y’all pass the bible’s word count (783,137)

Okay so anon,,,,, I (Kio) decided to look into my ao3, because your ask put me in hysterics (the "what are you two on" got me in particular, and I couldn't fucking tell u)

The main asau fics that make up "the series" imo are, in order, counterpart, confidential, and the stolen altars. The words counts of those combined are 437,910.

If you add in the main things on our ao3s, which I consider the 3 series asau fics above, faction, and ofc peaches & cream, that's a combined word count of 546,196. That's 5 fics.

But what most people don't know is that asau had a false start. Counterpart was the first one to be published (on July 29, 2021) and it's the only one that remains after the initial run, which we started redoing with Con (published March 9, 2022). That's a pretty significant gap! In that space, we published 4 fics with a combined word count of 71,239. That's not anything to sneeze at, but nowhere near what we operate at now. They didn't perform super well and we wanted to rework the story to be better paced, more fleshed out, to have some actual meat on there, yknow?? So we made those works private and just considered confidential as the start of an entire overhaul of the plot.

But that brings us to a combined word count of 628,101 just with the most important and active things included. And, buddy, we're not even a quarter into altars yet. Altars won't even be the end of the series.

We will top the bible's word count. Easy.

-Kio

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Kicho's Main Story Chapter 4 Part 2

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories. JP SPOILERS under the cut.

My heart thumped as memories that hadn’t faded yet came flooding back to me.

The emotion was so simple, but it certainly moved me.

Mai: “I was happy because it was something I made.”

Mai: “When I realized I could make someone happy, I felt like I had some meaning.”

(I see. So that’s what it was.)

Mai: “I’ve always wanted to be someone.”

(To feel like I could be there.)

Kicho: “To be someone?”

Mai: “Yes. So no matter where I am, I always end up struggling.”

I spoke these words in self-mockery, but for some reason, Kicho nodded and accepted my words.

Kicho: “People are all like that. But that doesn’t make them evil.”

Kicho: “As long as you live in this world, the opinions and beliefs of others will make who you are.”

Kicho: “That’s why everyone has unanswered questions.”

Mai: “Everyone?”

Kicho: “Still, don’t forget. Wherever you are, whatever you do, you are you.”

Kicho: “As long as you have your will to live, this truth will never change.”

Kicho: “You are not just someone. You’re Mai.”

Kicho: “Wherever you are, whatever you do, just live as you.”

Mai: “............”

“Mai”

The name he said was already familiar to me, but it almost made my feelings a jumbled mess.

Undeniably, it was a sign of my existence that I have continued to live up to this day.

(I wonder if I have to go back from the start.)

(As long as I want to live, am I allowed to stay here as I am?)

Shaking with confusion, I stared at his hazel-green eyes looking at me.

He didn't turn away. His eyes only sparkled gently.

Mai: "You're right. I'm me."

Kicho: "Yeah. Even if you run through different times."

Kicho: "You said your dreams got cut off, yet here you are. You didn't give up."

Mai: "Yes, there is no way I would give up."

Mai: "As I said before, I think I'm the type of person who always struggles."

Kicho: "I see."

(Oh, he smiled.)

All my attention was drawn to his eyes, perhaps because I always see him expressionless.

His smile, different from the one I had seen before, was even more gentle, making my heart skip a beat.

(Maybe it's because I saw something unusual or because he smiled at me, and that's why I'm happy?)

Kicho: "Why are you suddenly smiling?"

Mai: "Huh? I'm smiling too?"

Mai: "Sorry. I'm just happy you smiled."

Kicho: "............."

Kicho: "I'm alive, so I also smile. That one was involuntary."

(It's a little disappointing that he's back to his usual self, but一)

Mai: "Thank you. I feel better now."

Kicho: "It was no big deal."

Mai: "It was. At least, for me."

(I never thought he would say that to me, but I'm happy.)

My chest tightened painfully as if scolding me for receiving his words honestly.

(The more I get to know this guy, the more indecisive I become.)

------------Flashback------------

Mai: "Um, can I still stay here?"

Kicho: "Well, you have nowhere else to go."

Mai: "Yes."

Kicho: "Then you can stay. But believing that you're from the future is different from trusting you."

Kicho: "I only have one condition."

Kicho: "Is something bothering you?"

Mai: "Huh?"

Kicho: "No, of course, there is. The norm here is different from the one you're used to."

Kicho: "For example, you could talk to me like this, but you couldn't read the letters of this period."

Kicho: "Compared to what it was in the future, it's totally different."

Mai: "Yeah. I can't read it."

Kicho: "If you want, I can teach you."

Kicho: “Mai!”

Mai: “Kicho!?”

Kicho: "Don't give up. Keep going and put your strength into it."

---------Flashback Ends---------

I thought if I got to know him, I could put the missing pieces together.

But now, this thought was slowly taking shape and confusing me.

I was afraid to find out what I wanted to know more about.

(What should I do now?)

(Even if I’m his secretary, nothing has changed in our relationship.)

(He’s still my enemy, and I’m a spy.)

(There’s no way I could ever betray someone.)

(But betray who?)

Kicho: “Mai.”

Mai: “Y-Yes?”

Kicho: “You must be tired. Get some rest tonight.”

Kicho: “The rain should stop in the morning, so hopefully, we’ll be able to leave soon.”

Mai: "Okay. Then good night."

I bid him goodnight, trying not to show my confusion, and then crawled under the futon placed at the end of the room and turned my back as I closed my eyes.

(He believed me when I told him I came from the future, and he saved me several times, but I've been betraying him ever since we've been in this relationship.)

I gripped my sleeve with my fingertips, feeling the pain of the pressure, but then一

Kicho's voice: "Mai."

Mai: “----!”

When I heard his gentle voice calling me, I had no choice but to turn around.

Mai: "Um, what is it?"

Kicho: "I know it’s difficult for you not to be cautious of me, but don’t worry, I won’t lay a hand on you just because we’re sharing a room."

(I guess I gave him the wrong impression.)

Mai: "No, I wasn't being cautious. I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable."

Mai: "Although it's true that I've been thinking about you."

Kicho: "Ha?"

He raised an eyebrow and sighed.

Kicho: "What are you suddenly saying?"

Mai: "Um, I don't mean it in a weird way!"

Kicho: "I know, but that comment is uncalled for."

Kicho: "Never say that to anybody other than me."

Kicho: "Others might take it the wrong way."

Mai: “Okay. Hm?”

Kicho: “What’s wrong?”

Mai: “N-Nothing.”

Kicho: “You’re all over the place.”

Mai: “Hahaha… I guess.”

(The way he just said it means it’s okay to say it in front of him.)

(Nope, I’m sure he’s just being reasonable. I get what he’s trying to say.)

I laid down on the futon again, my head spinning as I tried to come up with a crazy explanation.

(Let’s not think about it, or I might not make it tonight.)

Mai: “I’ll sleep now. Good night.”

Kicho: “Yeah. Good night.”

Feeling the gentleness of Kicho’s voice echoing in the darkness, I slowly closed my eyes.

Before I knew it, my dark thoughts quickly faded into the corner of my consciousness, replaced by sleepiness.

Hideyoshi: “Here’s the information we’ve received from around the region. For more details, please refer to this report.”

Nobunaga: “Oh? Was he responsible for the recent incident as well?”

Hideyoshi: “Probably. However, we haven’t received any news from Mitsuhide.”

Hideyoshi: “Just what on earth is that guy doing in Sakai?”

Vassal’s voice: “Lord Nobunaga, Lord Hideyoshi, excuse me!”

Vassal’s voice: “Just now, someone received a letter from Lord Mitsuhide.”

Hideyoshi: “-----!”

Nobunaga: “I see. Bring him in.”

Vassal’s voice: “Yes, sir.”

After a short reply, the door opened, following the sound of light footsteps.

Mitsuhide’s vassal: “Excuse me. Here you go, Lord Nobunaga.”

Nobunaga: “Yeah.”

Nobunaga received the letter, unfolded it, and read it.

Nobunaga: “I see. Mai, huh?”

Hideyoshi: “Is something wrong with her!?”

Nobunaga: “She successfully infiltrated as a spy, but after that, Mitsuhide lost contact with her.”

Hideyoshi: “Mai.”

Hideyoshi: “Lord Nobunaga, Kicho is a very careful and clever man.”

Hideyoshi: “I think leaving it to an inexperienced person alone was too risky.”

Hideyoshi: “Maybe we should send a few of our best men over there.”

Nobunaga: “No.”

Hideyoshi: “But...”

Nobunaga: “..............”

Hideyoshi: “No, my apologies. It is as you are trying to say.”

Hideyoshi: “You sent Mai there not only because Kicho raised his hand against you.”

Hideyoshi: “Also, if she needs help, I’m sure Mitsuhide will contact us as soon as possible.”

Hideyoshi: “So what’s the situation一”

Instead of replying, Nobunaga held out a letter to Hideyoshi.

Hideyoshi immediately took it and looked down at the written report.

Hideyoshi: “I see. Mai is...”

Nobunaga: “To sneak into the inner circle of a man who is so hostile to other people一she really is an intriguing woman.”

Nobunaga: “However, we don’t have enough time to wait for her report.”

Hideyoshi: “Yes. The reports we have are consistent with what’s coming in from all over the region.”

Hideyoshi: “Lord Nobunaga, what should we do?”

Nobunaga: “Tell everyone as soon as possible. Our next plan is一”

At the same time, at Kasugayama Castle.

Kenshin: “I’m bored.”

Kenshin dropped the report in his hand onto the tatami mats as he said this.

Kenshin: “It makes no sense to wage war now on Nobunaga.”

Shingen: “Are these guys currently separated by the rebellions happening all over the country?”

Kenshin: “Yeah, there’s just a lot of unnecessary interruptions.”

Kenshin: “I’d rather fight someone who can go all out.”

Shingen: “There was another skirmish on the outskirts of Echigo the other day.”

Shingen: “According to Yuki, they have several weapons that don’t match their fighting strength. He also said that most of them are imported abroad.”

Shingen: “It looks like they’re not only targeting the Oda army.”

Yoshimoto: “Kicho is really troublesome, huh?”

Kanetsugu: “Yeah, he used to be in the Oda army.”

Kanetsugu: “Lord Shingen. I think Kicho probably sent those weapons to them.”

Shingen: “Yeah.”

Shingen: "If his goal is not to defy Nobunaga, then what the hell is it?"

Shingen: "All of Japan right now is in chaos. If this continues, everything will eventually get caught in a sea of fire."

Yoshimoto: "That's bad news."

Kanetsugu: "............."

???: "Excuse me, Lord Kenshin."

Kenshin: "It's you. Come in."

Sasuke: "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Sasuke: "I've compiled additional reports from the nokizaru regarding the rebellions.”

Sasuke: "Also..."

Yukimura: "Lord Shingen, I'm back."

Shingen: "Yuki, that was fast."

Yukimura: "Yes. It was quickly settled. Also, I heard some weird rumors, so I thought I'd get to it right away."

Sasuke: "By the way, I think that weird rumor has some credibility."

Sasuke: "I met and talked with someone at the castle gate earlier, and what he said matched what I collected from the nokizaru."

Kenshin: "Tell me about it."

Sasuke: "Yes."

Sasuke and Yukimura looked at each other and then briefly announced the news, causing everyone's faces to turn grim.

Kenshin: "If that rumor is true, I won't tolerate it."

Kenshin: "I'll die of boredom if I don't destroy him quickly."

Shingen: "Besides, I don't think the people will be able to live peacefully in this state."

Yoshimoto: "If there's a possibility that more beautiful things will get destroyed, I wouldn't just sit back."

Kanetsugu: "Lord Kenshin, please give the order. I'll surely take that man's head."

Yukimura: "Hey, wait. He already knows what you look like and who you are."

Yukimura: "Are you going to rush into the trading post and kill him?"

Kanetsugu: "If that's what Lord Kenshin wants."

Kenshin: "Wait, Kanetsugu. Sasuke, go to Sakai and find out what he's up to."

Sasuke: "Me!?"

Sasuke: "Maybe you want me to solve that mystery, too."

Yukimura: "What are you mumbling about? You mean that spy from the Oda army?"

Yoshimoto: "I don't understand一wait, what?"

Yukimura: "It's probably just a rumor, but I heard that a woman came to Kicho's place as a spy."

Sasuke: "-----!"

Shingen: "That's one hell of a brave girl. I'd love to meet her someday."

Kenshin: "Stupid woman. She's gonna die there."

Sasuke: "Don't tell me that woman is..."

Sasuke: "I understand. I'll go to Sakai."

At the same time, deep in the mountains.

Kennyo: "You said you wanted to talk to me, so I came over only to find you wanting to help me?"

Motonari: "Yeah. You're trying to take revenge on Nobunaga, right? Japan is now getting f*cked, so this is a perfect time."

Kennyo: "I see. Then you are the ones who instigated this."

Motonari: “Ha?”

Kennyo: “For the past few days, something has been blowing in the air and trees.”

Kennyo: “It’s the smell of burning grass, trees, houses, people, and many other things.”

Motonari: “So what? Didn’t you also burn the Honnoji temple?”

Motonari: “This is one of the ways to achieve our goal.”

Motonari: “Besides, we only provided the opportunity. The choice was theirs.”

Kennyo: “............”

Motonari: “People are all the same. When they have a bit of money in their hands, they easily turn on others.”

Motonari: “How can a vengeful demon who deviated from his path and plotted to kill people be so nice now?”

Kennyo: “I don’t mean to be nice.”

Motonari: “Really? Well, think about it anyway. It’s not like it’s gonna hurt you.”

Motonari waved his hand and walked away with his men in tow.

Kennyo: “That’s right. I’ve strayed from my path.”

Kennyo: “I don’t care if I fall into hell.”

Kennyo: “I’m willing to become a demon to take revenge on Nobunaga.”

Kennyo: “I’m determined to get him to hell first, even if it means taking my students with me.”

Kennyo: “But..."

The night wind blew, shaking the metal rings of his staff.

The smell of the wind and the sound of his staff made Kennyo’s face contorted.

Kennyo: “Will I follow the demon or not?”

Kennyo: “There are too many to take to hell.”

Previous╏Masterlist╏Next (Gacha)

[cooltrainererika]

Just watched the Hetalia musical!

It was fun, though I had no idea what was going on sometimes lol. It didn’t take itself completely seriously, and was good goofy fun.

If I had any complaints it would be the aforementioned at times confusing story. Or maybe that’s just because I couldn’t hear what everyone was singing half the time. The main story was about Japan being chosen to host an international festival, and trying to find what’s so unique about himself. And this somehow results in him falling back in time. There was this whole “Open the country, stop having it be closed” mini-arc that I didn’t know how it connected to the whole thing about Japan finding his uniqueness. They could have made it relevant; like maybe Japan has realized how unique he is and goes too far in the other direction, deciding that to preserve his culture he’s going to remain closed, and he has to learn that he needs his friends too, but from what I could gather that wasn’t what they were going for. Or maybe it was? Idk really.

Also man they flanderized Ame badly. He was a brute in this! Like he didn’t even care when Japan disappeared, WTF America??? That’s one of your best friends like??? Also Past!America was trying to prevent the Axis Stooges from returning to the present because… Reasons? Seriously Ame why are you such a jerk here?! Also I swear China was way more hyper in the opening scene than I’d ever expect him to be (Like there was a gag at the beginning where he and Italy were like “Uneasiness? Like the uneasiness of wanting to go to the bathroom oh no we forgot!” and run around goofily). Though that didn’t last long, and he appeared to act slightly like his old salty self, at least in the past, at least what I know of his old personality, after the fact. And Ned was way more cheerful, though that’s not a complaint. Also I kind of wish the JP fandom didn’t push the whole Axis thing still. …And they mistook tomatoes as being North American lmao. Those come from South America, writers!

As mentioned, the story was about Japan finding himself basically. It really was a story made for Japanese audiences and to pull at Japanese heartstrings lol. Also, the actors were really cute. Especially Japan and China. Man Japan was so smol. Though Ame and China’s voices were really jarring to me because wow they were low. Like I’m expecting them to be these tenors and then bam, I hear these goddamn baritone voices come out of their mouths. It’s not bad, just jarring and hard to get used to. Italy and Spain and England’s actors were clearly trying their best to match the anime though. And I remember saying Ame’s singing was… Eh in another Hetamyu clip I saw, but everyone was great here!

Also man the Netherlands fans were eating good tonight! On the other hand, as soon as the characters started talking about how “The world is uneasy recently” in the opening scene I immediately noticed the giant Russia-shaped hole in the cast. His lack of presence was pretty noticeable. Is it because of current events…?

I found it kind of funny that Past!China was like “You don’t have to copy me to the letter you know?” (and at one point quips something like “What is there to copy about me?”) because of how I write Imperial China and how Imperial China was in history, and I’m pretty sure it was the opposite in canon too lol. This was in response to how Japan basically goes the opposite direction of nationalism and is like “Being unique is too hard, imma copy China for the rest of my life”, which was also funny also because of how I write him (then again so was the entire central story of how he doesn’t know who he is and what’s so unique about himself).

But yeah it was a great time. Btw the climax involved past!China appearing out of nowhere and having an epic ping-pong battle with Japan. On Mt. Fuji. And Japan and the rest of the Axis trio are there because supposedly volcanic eruptions release enough energy to create wormholes. Because screw you it’s that type of show. I’m not complaining, that was awesome.

[ga-yuu]

My Very HONEST Opinions on Clavis's route!

Let me first tell you one thing if you don't know! I did play this game on the day of its jp release. I was excited to play a new title from Ikemen series, after my most favorite game of all time Ikemen genjiden. I expected Ikemen prince to be much better than Ikemen genjiden BUT unfortunately....I didn't like it :(

My first route was Chevalier and I didn't enjoy it like I thought I would. I thought I would feel all sorts of emotions but I didn't. Then I played Yves route and...it was fine, but it still wasn't enough to make me wanna continue playing this game. Then I started some routes here and there but didn't go past chapter 1. I uninstalled it and after some time when heard the news that it's getting an eng ver. instead of Ikemen genjiden---I admit I WAS SUPER SALTY!! I didn't play the game anymore after that.

Now, there's no exciting news from Ikemen genjiden and the next route will be coming out in late Apr or early May. I had free time, so I thought I would revisit the other Ikemen games I once stopped playing and you guys voted me to play Ikemen prince. I did. I played Clavis's route and OMG! IT'S FUCKING CUTE!!!

Clavis's route is really really cute and it's really sad that this wasn't the first route in Ikemen prince because if it was, it would have left a great first impression on me. I loved the overall theme of his story. A story about a loser working hard every day and trying his best to be like his perfect brother but he still can't beat him but he doesn't give up!! It's so perfect. The whole time I played his route, I was like "YOU CAN DO IT CLAVIS!! JUST THINK OUT OF THE BOX!! YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO BEAT CHEVA IN THE BATTLE OF SWORDS, BUT IF YOU COME UP WITH SOME KIND OF PLAN THAT EVEN CHEVA CAN'T PROCESS, THEN YOU CAN BEAT HIM!!!" Yeah, that was me! And he did, at the end of his route. He took him off guard and stabbed Cheva!! YAYY!! I was cheering wholeheartedly because it's so beautiful to see a person's hard work pay off in the end. It was such a satisfying ending. I truly enjoyed it. I enjoyed it because it didn't feel like a love story.

But in the end, I realized that this is a romance game and it was chapter 24 or 25 something which means, according to Cybird's rule----"Sex scenes happen at chapter 24 or25. If any male lead tries to have sex with MC in the earlier chapters, the MC's male friend will come and cockblock the male lead." I'll talk more about their relationship afterward.

I was so focused on Clavis getting his win that I forgot about Emma. Emma for me was 50/50 in this route. In the earlier parts, she is annoyingly stupid and unfunny, but in the later parts, she does things that are commendable. Like encouraging Clavis to get up back onto his feet when Clavis was ready to give up, trying to bargain with Chevalier to get information about Clavis, going to the enemy territory illegally, and most importantly facing Mr. Obsidian without shivering. She did a great job so it wasn't a complete letdown.

Also, she's tsundere. The whole time she's like "No I'm not in love with you! STop looking at me like that! I don't love you! I'm not falling in love with you! I will NEVER FALL IN LOVE WITH A SCOUNDREL LIKE YOU!" The whole time I was rolling my eyes because I know every MC says this but they end up falling in love anyway. Has there been any one MC that has actually stuck to her words? (*thinking hard* Yoshino? Nah! she too falls in love with Ibuki after promising that she would run away from him).

Another thing I wanna say is that if Clavis's route were to be the first route of this game then it would have left a good impression on me! I would have not uninstalled the game at all. The new characters introduced---Gilbert, Silvio and Keith...they did for me! They brought something into this game which I have been looking for the whole time and that was the feeling of tension! Gilbert is a threat. His appearance out of nowhere every time in this route is like a bomb and that enhances my experience because I get more interested in the game. Gilbert is a very intelligent character and fascinating as well. I'm 10000000000% sure that this guy knows everything about Emma and he also knows that the King is dead. Like I'm very very very sure that this guy has more than enough evidence to expose Emma's identity but is simply holding back because it's fun to watch Sariel and Emma trying to cover up by lying. It's really interesting, that's why whenever he shows up, I always end up laughing out loud because I know that he knows that Emma is Belle. Also, Sariel and other princes (except Cheva) naively thinking that Gilbert is still 'suspecting' about Emma being Belle is just stupid. How long are they gonna keep lying? Gilbert can simply place all the evidence on the table if he wants to. What will Sariel do at that time? So yeah, thanks for adding three new villain characters Cybird, you made me wanna play this game now.

Things that I liked:

I loved Clavis's mischievous personality and how he's so positive when everyone else is actually running away from him. I love how he makes pit traps for Yves and Licht, throws smoke bombs at Sariel, knows sneaky tricks like unlocking a lock etc. I loved how he used those tricks as a weapon to beat Cheva. It's cute. He may not be the textbook definition of a prince, but hey, he's the prince who would protect his own people at the cost of his life. So you can blindly trust him.

I loved how they showed his relationship with his people and his mother. Even if it's only for one chapter, it was still good that they showed it, because it made me like him even more. It made me wanna root for him more. Also revealing what is inside his room, made me almost cry.

His relationship with Cyran. I loved it! They are cute! They're like buddies! I love their relationship. It's great!

The humor. Clavis has a good sense of humor. I wish Emma could have matched that. Unfortunately, she couldn't. Tsundere MC didn't match Clavis, maybe a much more fun-loving, considerate, and straightforward could have worked better. She could have played along with him and catch him off guard sometimes. Clavis and Emma's relationship, to be honest, it was fine. But I wish they were more like partners in crime rather than lovers. I wish they were more like best friends than lovers. I wanted Emma to be like a, how should I put this, kinda like a second mother to Clavis. I wish she was shown to be enjoying Clavis's little pranks and laughing it off. But all the time she sees Clavis as a scoundrel. I mean doesn't she like to have fun? Whatever. I wished they were best friends rather than lovers because I wasn't getting sexual tension between them at all.

Things I didn't like:

Other male leads feel like side characters. Other than Chevalier, who is Clavis's nemesis, the other princes don't have much of scenes other than Emma simply asking "What would they do if they become the king?" Nockto had two scenes and in one of them, he didn't even have any lines. If it hadn't been for these two scenes, I would have forgotten his existence. Leon only had one scene and that was him answering Emma's question. Emma just ask this one question and that's it! Done. After that, the whole route is about Clavis. I know he's the main lead, but it would have been nice if they had more scenes about them talking about their ambitions and stuff, but the scene just cuts to black all the time.

I think that's all I have to say about this route. It was a fun experience for sure. I enjoyed it!

[undercoverpena]

vi. believe in us

javier peña x dea! f!reader | chapter six of nowhere to run

chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers. no use of y/n. hints at smut. jo-feels. feelings realisation. things are getting deeeeep. Wordcount: 7.1k an: i know people tell me not to apologise for the length, but i'm trying to follow the episodes hahaha. if there are errors, i'm sorry. pls forgive me. as always, huge thank you to @yeyinde who loves these characters as much as me and to @guyfieriii who lets me chew their ear off about them far too much to be real.

series masterlist

“Fuck, I can’t believe he knows we’re…”

We’re. 

Barely a millisecond goes by, but time slows. 

“We’re?”

“Having fun.” 

He feels his shoulders shrink, the earlier annoyance melting as if it was nothing—like it was never there. Replaced by something far harder to stomach, something which wrapped around his insides and yet didn’t constrict to hurt, just hung loosely, torturously there.

“Cariño, I think we’re having a bit more than fun…”

You throw him a sharp look—one made from a mixture of ice and a blade. “It’s not going to matter what we’re doing, not now he knows.”

But, what are we doing? He wants to ask, mouth opening all set to. His hand rising, thumb swiping over his bottom lip, tightening his jaw as he realises this isn’t the time.

Not from the anxious way you’re biting at your lower lip, not in the way you’re hugging your arms close—not in how you occasionally flick your eyes to him, panic swirling, mixing with something he’s not sure he has the answers to help with.

It’s hard not to stare at the cup on your desk. 

The one sitting amongst the mindless chatter that blends with the dull, constant noise of a phone ringing and surrounded by the sounds of tapping—all at different speeds, intensities and types. The sounds circle around the speckles of dust, the ones swirling in with the sunlight, desperate to get in from the outside. 

Light tries, with all of its might, to kiss away the darkness. The one which clings to the walls. The dark wood, the walls—even the blinds. Desk lights are a permanent fixture if you plan to do anything but squint. Not that you mind.

You don’t need the sun to warm your cheeks, just the cup and its implications. 

The one grabbed in between dropping you home and him heading into the office; the one already waiting for you to get in. Your skin is still damp from your rushed shower—your body still sore from spending a night with him. 

It's easy, when it shouldn’t be—sleeping with him, your boss. All casual, fun and no strings but a whole twisted bundle of mess, too. One that would be so easy to worsen or fix. 

The coffee inside that cup doesn’t alleviate any of it. 

Not even as you try to tell yourself it’s nothing. The same way you do when you’re in the middle of something, and your eyes catch his, finding his usually coiffed hair has become frayed at the edges. It makes you want to go in and soothe away whatever has forced him to play with it. But you don’t, trying to hold yourself back—knowing what happens when you usually enter his office.  

“Everyone else has gone home.”“They have.” “So, do you want to have sex on your desk again?” He studies you, eyes dark, thumb tracing his jaw as you slide the fabric of your skirt up. Catching his brow raising, feeling your way up his tie, his body subconsciously moving between your legs. “Let you do it from behind this time,” you whisper. He turns you, running a hand up the back of your thigh, the other gripping your hip.“You thought about it… fucking me from behind, leaning over your desk?” His lips curl, breath along your cheek. “Every time your eyes look at me through the fucking blinds.” 

It had been messy since he’d showed up at your place, even if Javi hadn’t come to your house again. Instead, it’s his place—the office becoming risky. Even if the memories remain, to the point you’re unable to even be in the file room without some reminder flashing behind your eyes or hearing him whisper into your ear, Anyone else made you moan right here, cariño. 

The coffee had begun appearing on your desk when he dropped you off at home before heading in. A pretence, a suitable cover story. Arriving in two cars, leaving in two—no one knowing he drives to yours half an hour after he’s left to pick you up. 

You rarely have to miss the way he buries his nose close to your ear; how he lets his lips whisper silk into them—his broad chest hugging your spine. You barely have to think about his mouth between your thighs, you get to experience it. Not nightly, but close. 

“You gonna be quiet?”You pause, silence blanketing the two of them before you whisper, “No.”

You’re in too deep, that much is known. 

The house of cards the two of you had poorly built, were waiting to fall and crush you. The line having become so blurred and so knitted with emotions, you’re suddenly worrying why you’re not desperate to run from them.

Because you don’t want serious.

Having continued this because he never seemed the type. Wouldn’t have let it get so far if he did.

Now, you were finding it hard not to let yourself slip. Not just because he cared or because he toed doing right and wrong, or even because he was handsome. But rather, that there was something undeniably easy about him. It’s more than simple charm and grit—more than lingering eyes across a room and a feeling that blooms like wildfires in a field of nothing. 

You wonder if he knows, senses it: your unease. The way you flitter between letting him and banishing him. It’s why you stare at the coffee, unsure if today you should drink it. Reading the label, seeing no note—knowing there never is one. There not needing to be one. 

You know who purchased you the coffee. The same one who you sense behind you before he speaks, the one you stand up and turn to face—grabbing the white cup in your palm as you stare at him. 

Letting anger bubble to the surface, replacing the other emotions, the ones you spend far too much energy fighting than resolving. 

“I know what you’ve done.” 

Javi has the decency to look taken back. 

Even if you know each microexpression—having become literate in Peña, both the faux and the real. 

Stepping back, he cocks his head. An invite into his office, as if you ever needed one before. But, you follow—perfectly in step, able to read his body as if the two of you were back under the sheets. 

“What have I done then, cariño?”

“Don’t butter me up, Peña.” Lifting the cup in a demonstration, halting his smile before it grows into a smirk—half-wondering if you’ve been added to the list of women who have. “You think I wouldn’t hear about the phone tap?”

His eyes narrow, jaw tightening. “Stoddard…” 

“I know shit, Peña.” 

Stepping closer, you take a sip of the coffee. Instantly, you hate him for how good it tastes. That you know it’s from the place near yours, the one you foolishly told him about and now keeps going. 

Shaking your head, you sigh. “Stop hiding things from me.” 

“I wasn’t… fuck, you’re good.” 

“I know. Wish you’d stop being surprised by it.” 

His smirk always meets his eyes. Spreads across his cheeks—smoothing out worry lines and creates ones of beauty in its place. It’s hard not to notice, not with the way his eyes shimmer and how his lustful gaze wraps you in honey.  

“I’m not.”

Narrowing your eyes, you exhale. Loudly. Moving around him, staring over his desk—the many more files added onto the pile he hasn’t cleared, taking another sip.

“You are, and it’s deeply upsetting. I can’t take bullets for you, if you don’t tell me we’re going to be shot at.” Your hand picking up a file, shoving it into his chest. “Do I make myself clear?” 

His thumb swipes over his bottom lip, not hiding the way his eyes look you up and down. Slowly. Almost trawling them up and down you, lighting you on fire in the same way his tongue did last night. 

“Maybe I should have sent you to Cali? Have the rest of them caught before they know what hit them.” 

Your lips curl, a coldness falling over you—a twist in your chest, one you can’t fault him for, knowing he couldn’t be to blame. 

“Javi, you’d stop me before I even got in the air,” you bite back, the tease evident but the usual tone removed. “You’d miss having something to fuck other than your fist.” 

Sometimes, the day drags on, and others it hurls nothing but surprises. 

Today, you arrived to find both a coffee and a piece of fruit—making you smile so broadly that even Stoddard noticed. 

You blame that for the reason you don’t stop him from taking you by the elbow hours later—the first sign which should have rang alarm bells. Javi pulls you with him, saying nothing—feeling warm fingers along your elbow that make your heart skip a beat.

He leads you right through his doorway, your file clutching to your chest. It’s not until the door slides shut behind him do you realise all your thoughts are diluted, muted. His presence doing that. That and the fucking scent of him. The one you’ve come to despise washing from your skin the moment he drops you off, so the two of you can continue the story that he doesn’t spend random nights of the week fucking you into his mattress. 

The scent of him clings, a fixture. One which mixes so easily with the air, your nose becomes desperate to take it all in, as though if you don’t, it’ll all be wasted. 

You wait for him to shut the blinds, and enjoy a stolen moment, but find you watch as his hands slide to his hips. An unsettling feeling unwinding from a dark corner. Knotting, needling into you as you try to level your breathing. 

“Javi…” 

“Is Stoddard’s job meant to be yours?”

You notice his eyes don't move. Paying attention, fixated on your micro-expressions. 

“The day you first spoke to me. I asked you what they—“

Running your tongue across your teeth, you straighten your spine. “You asked what they gave me.” 

They cut, your words. Slice straight through whatever it is he’s implying. Halting whatever else was due to fall from his lips, stopping him from speaking as his lips clamp together, pinning him in place.

He lifts his chin, a hand coming to brush over his jaw and neck. “Were you offered Stoddard’s job, cariño?” 

You swallow, somehow able to keep your face unchanged even if your fingers twitch, your back relaxing, before you shake your head. It's easier to look away, the festering acerbity doubling as you turn your back to him.

“Yes.” 

He snorts. It's loud, quickly followed by the sound of his shirt moving as he likely runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Fuck. Why—why didn’t you… you should have told me. You fuckin' lied—“

You don't bother to smother the fury in your eyes, you throw it at him, burn him with it. “No. I didn’t lie, Peña. You asked what they gave me, implying I took it. I didn’t take it. I declined it, I resigned myself to shitting desk duty and let him have it.” 

His face doesn't change, not even under your stare. “You should have taken it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re fuckin' good, you’re… you do the right thing, you know everything that goes on in this place, cariño—“

“I’d have taken it. If I had earned it,” you spit, looking him up and down. “I’d have ripped it out of their goddamn hands and plastered my fucking name on that desk. But, it wasn’t offered to me because I’m good, because I know what I’m doing. It's a trap, a way to get me to stop... pushing, stop finding things. And you know it. You must do. Read all about it in the fuckin' file you have on me." 

It’s instant, the way his stare softens, panic spreading in his eyes. The way your words make him lose his breath, the tension shifting and transforming into something wounded—uprooted from the growing rage and apparent injustice he felt he’d faced. 

Smirking, you lick your own lips. "Yeah, Javi, I know about that too.”

He drops his arm, moving towards you, with no emotion in your eyes. “I don’t know shit because you won’t tell me.” 

You stare, coldly. Taking a second, a moment. Already knowing he can tell you’re rattled, stressed. You’ve allowed him to get close enough to be able to tell. He knows what makes you tick, what undoes you—what makes you go from one to a hundred.  

Transferring his skill at reading people to you, likely creating some encyclopaedia solely dedicated to just your micro-expressions. In the same way, he has written mental papers about what a flick of his tongue or a nip of his teeth can do. Never mind the little things that make up your mood. 

“Lemme guess, Stechner?” you ask, folding your arms as he nods. “Maybe you should ask him why they wanted me to take the job, Peña. Because I’m not the one who lied.” 

He sighs, nothing being said as you slowly swallow. 

“I can’t tell you shit—I… I thought I made that clear.”

“You can tru—“

“It’s not about trust, Peña.” 

It comes out harsher, more like fire than ice. 

Sunshine yellow, splintered sobs, carmine-stained palms… whimpered pleading, panicked breaths. Blood-splattered walls and shredded bedding…

You sigh too, softer, less loud. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I may not tell you everything, but…” You roll your lips, staring around the glass room. “Fuck, I can’t believe he knows we’re…”

We’re. 

Barely a millisecond goes by, but time slows. 

“We’re?”

“Having fun.” 

The words hurry out, even if you hate them. They’re not the right descriptors, but you’re not sure which ones would be better. Not now. Not when it had gone too far. With true having already slithered its way through openings that shouldn’t exist. Having moulded itself into creating something less carnal and more needed. So much so, the list of excuses are running short, finding only reasons why you keep letting him in then why you should keep him away. 

The truth of it all is so easily there, simmering and ready. Yet, you don’t allow them to escape, not needing to show him your hand—to let him see how easy it has been to weave under your walls and layers. Especially when you’ve spent so much time keeping him out. 

Then you see his eyes, how they’re wide but hardened, his lips clamped together, tight. Your walls are threatening to quiver and fall at the sight. 

“Cariño, I think we’re having a bit more than fun…”

“It’s not going to matter what we’re doing, not now he knows.” 

You watch as his mouth opens, but no words come. Just his hand rising, thumb swiping over his bottom lip as his jaw tightens—sliding from side to side.

Shaking your head, you banish it—what his words would have been, what they could have been. The back of your hand against your forehead. “Shit…”

“What?”

You laugh. More hysterical, more out of surprise and acidic emotions as you process—slower than normal, going as far as to pinch your forearm to see if it’s real. 

“He has me over a barrel. One wrong move… it all comes down.”

Javi steps closer to you, fingers on your cheek, lifting your eyes to his. “Wait, what?”

You don’t mean it, the look of disbelief, but it flurries across your face—unable to mask it quickly enough. “C’mon, Javi, you don’t think now if you defend me, if you argue with them, ask them for anything related to me, they won’t think it’s because I snaked my way into your bed? Because newsflash, that’s how things work, Javi. Women—good women—get plastered with only being half as good because of the company they keep.” 

You run a hand over your mouth as you pull away from him, slowly sinking down into a chair as you bury your face. 

For a second, you can hear him not move, just breathing. A sound you’re so used to finding calming as night blankets his room. When you’re frozen out of fear of waking him. Now you’re frozen because you're unsure what to do. No plan B. No get-out clause you’ve created for yourself. 

“Cariño…”

“You don’t get it, Javi. You haven’t dated someone in your workplace and had them gossip about you like women have. When you fuck around, you’re a hero. If I do it, if women do it….” His jaw tightens, all noticeable, running his own fingers over his chin. “It doesn’t matter if I’m good, I’m not a man. It’s why I was the one gossiping about when things ended with Chris, when I got back from Cali and was deemed unstable. Now, sleeping with you?”

“Hey—“

“You know, if he fucked his way through the department, no one would bat an eyelid. I do it, I’m trying to sleep my way to the top.”

He moves, crouching before you, pressing his hand over the top of your knee. “But you’re not.” 

Smiling, you sigh softly, leaning back into the chair. “No. No, I’m not.” 

He tightens his hand on yours. 

“You have places to be...” 

He looks at you through his lashes, whispering your name. Making it sound gentle, nice.

Blinking, you harden your face. Tightening your jaw as you lift your chin. “I don’t need your pity, Javi. I… I’m a grown woman, who I choose to fuck shouldn’t matter, not when it’s nothing serious—“

“—Look—“

“—I just need you to do your job, Peña.” You stand, his hand falling from your knee, face void, empty. Expression wiped from all corners of his face. “Because all of this, between us, isn’t worth undoing all the work we’ve done—you have done.” 

Your feet move you to the door on shaky legs, hands almost trying to tremble by your sides—clamped down firmly at your sides to stop them. Thinking of Cali, thinking of her.

Graffiti-covered walls; scarlet clinging to matted curls. 

He says your name. Calls it louder than he should—the one he whispers when he’s holding you in place on top of him, the one he groans against your ear when you’re pinned under his weight. 

It’s different hearing it here—with a vulnerable tinge to it, a pleading one. It’s why you don’t stop..

Sunshine yellow, splintered sobs, carmine-stained palms…

You hate yourself—that you let it merge into this, let it develop, twist and mature. 

Leaving before he finished a meeting, heading home and turning out the lights as wine soaked your throat in the dark. It was easier, you lied to yourself—feeling the hole opening up inside of you as you tried to sew yourself closed. 

He doesn’t avoid you, like you try to avoid him. 

Involving you, pulling you in to listen to the wiretap as though you’ll have some added opinion on it—an insight they’ve not thought of. Your argument-not-argument mouldering in the corner, Stoddard blissfully unaware. Either that or he’s become a good actor.

Your silence is telling, not meeting his eyes is a further statement. 

A slither of you mad that instead of admitting he means something, you try and convince yourself it’s the exact opposite. Further worsening it when you allow him to leave, to go—on some inane advice that has been drilling a hole in your chest since the moment he left. 

“Where are you off too?”“Gonna give something a push.”It drops, plummets—your gut. Lands right at your feet in a mess you’re not sure how to clean up. Shuffling the transcripts in your hand, you paint a smile. Having become a professional at it, well-taught, well-practised. “What?”You must give him a look, one which screams volumes because his expression softens. Plus, he’s lingering. Shifting his weight, brows slowly dipping, that same line appearing. —and now he knows we’re…We’re?Having fun.“Do that thing with your tongue…” you say, voice cracking, but you hope you style it. Even if he’s narrowing his eyes as he looks you up and down. Even if it takes all of you to force your lips into a grin. “It would get me to talk.”“You’re—““Wonderful, amazing—brilliant?”“Frustrating.”You hand him a transcript. “Clockwise, then anticlockwise. Have a good afternoon, sir.” 

He’s been back an hour. 

Hiding in the shut-blind room with Stoddard, fighting all temptation to go in there even if you’d been invited. An excuse flows from your tongue before you stop it, dipping your head to drive it home—feeling the hole widen to a crater in your chest.

Choosing to sit in the sidelines—more than you already do—rather than listen to the ways he got the information needed, even if you’re the one who pushed him to begin with. Especially when you’re aware of his past. 

It’s why it grates—peels. Finding yourself standing exposed and fearful, afraid he can see through it all and knows that you care. Something you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t let happen. 

You’re so lost in it, your apparent failure—your confused feelings—you don’t notice the shadow over your desk until the mug is placed down in front of you. Barely able to blink, staring at it before looking up at him. Tapping your pen, scrunching your lips as you narrow your gaze. 

“What’s this?” 

“A peace offering.” 

Leaning back, you sigh. “We’re fine, Peña.”

He smirks—knowingly. As though he’s rifled through your mind and found all the evidence attesting how much of a lie that is. 

You’re usually better. Harder to read and less easy to predict, but then, most people hadn’t snapped your underwear from your thigh and pocketed it before they made you come undone on their sofa. 

“Fine, I need a favour.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes. “Here we go.” 

“Do you fancy calling the SLS?” 

Your brows lift, smirking. “I do not.” 

And he knows it too. Which is why he’s standing—smirk present, delicious brown eyes softening just the amount to make him look cute and docile. Like a fucking puppy. 

“You fancy sharing the number?” 

Snorting, you glance down at your papers. “You don’t fancy asking your deputy for that information?” 

Resting his palms on your desk, you still hear him lick his lips and catch the sight of it just as you look up. “Please, cariño.” 

You should torture him. Make him wait. 

For no reason other than to grasp some form of control over the situation. Everything unravelling, things mixing and blending where they shouldn’t be. Emotions which should be firmly out of this, very much in the centre, doubling, tripling—

“Fine,” you groan, grabbing your notebook of numbers and a scrap bit of paper. 

He smirks, almost grinning. “I could kiss you.” 

“I wouldn’t. Had garlic for lunch, and… you’ve likely had your fill for the day. Right?”

“Jealous?” 

Yes. Your face blanks, hiding the answer which hurries its legs to your tongue—the one which has been burrowing a hole in your chest since he’d gone earlier. 

The one, you suspect, is the reason most people are avoiding you today. The very thing which is forcing you to carve the tip of your pen into the paper and almost through the desk. 

Leaning, you tap your pen against the desk. “Only if you did the tongue move on her, Javi.”

“The one you suggested?” 

You snort, handing him the piece of paper as you stand. 

“Is that all, Peña?”

His smile drops, soft at first—just at the edges. And then, all at once. It falls from his eyes, concern weaving into his forehead and brows as you stand, grabbing some files, not even sure which ones, as you begin to straighten them on your desk. 

You should smile, smirk. Laugh it off. But, it’s balling up in your throat—tasting like acid and regret, getting heavier and heavier as it trickles down to your tongue and the back of your teeth. 

“Remember I’m leaving early today,” you announce, more clinical, more formal. “So if you require further help, Neil can help.” 

You almost wince, almost. Able to stop yourself as Stoddard’s first name falls from your tongue. The one you never use. The one which doesn’t suit leaving your lips as you step around your desk. 

And you pray he doesn’t grab you, doesn’t place his palm on your forearm or cup your elbow. You hope he doesn’t lead you to his office, force you to talk until you’re cracked open and wading in feelings you’d rather bury.  

He doesn’t. 

Stepping back as he nods. Firm. Detached. 

Exactly what you want… yet it hurts. It wounds. It nicks tiny cuts into your skin so it stings in the office air and bleeds you slowly.  

Usually, you hate being home. But tonight, it’s lively.

Almost like it once was. It's all bathed in music, laughter and steam. So lost in it, the freeness of normalcy, you don’t expect it to be him when you send Matías to open the door. 

It doesn’t even cross your mind until you hear Matías greeting the male voice, the one your body knows quicker than your mind, feet carrying you to the hallway for his eyes to land on you. 

Eyes that find you over the bare, shirtless shoulders of Matías—the dish in your hand almost toppling as you take a breath, throat dry. Suddenly racking your brain, all lightheaded, wondering if the two of you had made plans that you’d forgotten about. 

“Javi?”

“Hey, I was—I should—”

Matías turns, staring at you. 

Giving you that look, the one you normally are able to shut down but find difficult with the evidence presented in front of you. Aye, you’re not interested in complications, huh? 

All you can do is narrow your eyes. Please, do not make this more uncomfortable. 

He wants to—you can tell. The same look on his face that you used to see on another. One that almost mirrors it, reminding you of game nights and far too much alcohol you still don’t know the name of. Thankfully, he takes pity, not pushing, turning back to speak to Javi directly. 

Your boss.

“Matías…”

He’s not listening. Explaining he’s going—that the two of you are done anyway. His Spanish is so quick, it takes a second for your mind to translate, making it too late to interject. 

Not that you can think—not as Javi’s eyes drag up and down your legs, suddenly very aware of the short-shorts and the amount of thigh on show. How it looks bad. All of it. 

You’re aware of it. 

Even if there’s no reason to worry, this is nothing. A lie you don’t believe but continue to hum to yourself like a tune you can never get out of your head. 

You feel Matías kiss your cheek, soft, hand on your shoulder as he does. “He’s cute. Be good, senorita. You deserve good.” 

His words take a second, the Spanish flowing into your ears as he takes the dish from your hands—the one which has warmed your palms to almost burning. His t-shirt draped over his shoulder, looking far too smug for someone who doesn’t know how to cook anything. 

It’s not until he walks past Javi do you move, do you unfreeze and find your feet can move from their position on your tiled floor. 

Running the back of your hand against your forehead, you sigh. “Hello?”

“Hi.” 

You snort. “Come on in.” 

Even though he’s been here before, it feels different. It’s less sad and pathetic, wine in your glass for a reason not to bury the day but rather energise it. The air is humming with scents, spices and the sound of upbeat music playing from some distant corner. Your lights are on, and low, adding an ambience to your place that could be seen as odd for two friends who have been merely laughing and cooking. 

You spot him taking it all in, eyes dragging across walls, ornaments and photo frames he clearly didn’t take in last time. A smile threatens to spill out until he lands on the half-full wine glass and the very much empty one.

You move, heading into the small kitchen, moving things, tidying. A need to keep busy as you throw a cloth over your shoulder. 

“So—” 

“He’s my neighbour, Javi.” 

He relaxes—you hear it. From the soft exhale through his nose to his muscles practically untightening from his bones.. A part of you sighs in relief that he believes your truth. The jealousy falls from the air as though it was never there, to begin with.  Javi points at the sink. “You want a hand?”

It’s the way he looks at you that undoes you. His eyes are all soft again, so genuine. No ulterior motive currently. Not here to talk about work or have any discussion to do with drugs, money laundering or death. 

Smiling, you shift your weight on your legs. “You any good?” 

“I do alright.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He laughs, and it shouldn’t be the sweetest sound—but it is. Especially like this, lighter, more heart filled. “My mama raised me well, bonita. I know how to take care of a home—grew up on a ranch, actually.” 

“You’re a rancher, huh?” 

He smiles broader as you lean against the counter, blocking the sink. 

“Damn straight.” 

“Not your current profession, though, is it? Because I know that’s currently being a pain in my ass.” 

He nudges you, stepping around you as he dips a finger into the water to check its temperature, splashing your skin with parts of it as he gets close. “I can be a pain in your ass, cariño. Just say the word.” 

You smirk, grabbing a towel trying not to watch as he rolls his sleeves up, your throat drying again—but for completely different reasons. “You wash, I’ll dry.”

Nodding, he mumbled a quick, “You got it,” one quickly buried under a held-back laugh that slowly leaves your lips. It partially merges with a breath, the rest falling into the air, settling. 

The first dish handed to you, taking it from him with far too much ease, as though this is normal. As if him being here is normal. 

It feels it as the drums fade into piano keys. As you take a bowl this time, drying it until you place it down, another laugh emerges in your throat that greets the air. 

“What?”

Shaking your head, you take the next plate from him, glancing at the bubbles which slide down the porcelain surface. “Javi Peña is washing my dishes. And it’s not even a euphemism.” 

He has a beautiful smile. One you’re sure by now you count paint with your fingers if you were any sort of artist. You’d thought it was nice the moment he first let you see it. But, you find it's his smirk that does the most damage to you—undoes something in you. 

He searches for the next dish in the steaming water, bubbles sliding around his wrists and forearms, hairs clinging to his skin as you try not to let your ears burn as he keeps glancing at you, noting the implication—the realisation. 

“I can bet my entire next paycheck that you’ve done a lot of things in women’s kitchens, but not done the dishes.” 

His eyes glint under the lights, holding your gaze as you feel your bare cheeks warm under them. You know that look, it’s the undoing of all your sensibility. It quiets the voice that says the two of you should stop, not needing to create more mess, more complication. 

One you usually banish away with your lips. 

“I like my kitchen sanitary,” you comment, nudging him. “Eyes on the dishes, Peña.”

“So, the neighbour?”

“A friend of a friend—who lives across the street. So, partial-neighbour.” He nods, but you know that’s not what he wants to know. Can tell, slowly finding him so easy to read. “And he’s surprising his boyfriend with a cooked meal—I offered my kitchen.”

Javi smiles, brushing the sponge over a plate. “You do cooking lessons then?” 

“No. But, he looked out for my place, when I was…” Your eyes drop to the glass in your hand. “He’s a good guy, and it gave me something to do other than fucking my boss.”

“Sounds like a professional boss.” 

“Got a great moustache, though.” 

The two of you not saying anything more until you're done. Occasional glances, tension thrumming, vibrating. Some threads of it want to abandon washing and kiss him; other threads want to ask him why he's here.

The thought recurring as you eventually hand him a drink, watching him sit down on your sofa, as you join him. Purposefully sitting a seat away from him. 

You’d chosen something less uptempo, more gentle as the air fills with piano keys and soft lulling voices. It follows the same ambience as the lighting. A perfect match—a solid blend. The room bathed in warm yellow and pretty gold, his red shirt standing out, but he’d stand out all the same. 

Even if it feels normal—usual. 

Javi always shines a little bit brighter in your eyes. 

Each gesture, each expression always noted—your eyes struggling to break from him. It’s why you notice his fingers gesturing for your legs, studying you as you smirk and throw them up, drinking from your glass of red as berries stain your lips. 

All you can think about is him tasting them—sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip until your spine is pressed into the cushions of your sofa. You’d not ruined your sofa with him, hadn’t had him between your thighs here. 

From his quietness, he’s thinking something too. 

Something which makes him drag his eyes up and down your legs, makes his hand go from drawing a shape to sliding the tips of them up and down your calf. 

“You think loudly, you know that?”

He laughs, and it’s beautiful. Nothing held back, letting it flow from his throat to your ears. 

“First time I’ve been told I think, cariño.”

It’s easy to smile around him. He halts the thoughts which run so free and wild in your head, only somewhat deafened when he’s not. 

“You need to talk about work or…” 

He snorts, taking a long sip. “Talking about anything would be good for me, cariño.” 

You feel guilty for it. How you use him—even if you’re sure he’s been using you too. Both running from something, both trying to dull whatever it is living on both your shoulders. Although, you weren’t sure if it was the same now. 

Foolishly, you had ruined it, tampered with it in his office. Changed things. Began pulling on the thread until you toppled it all over days ago. Now you worry he’ll want more than you can give him. Need more from you than you have spare to share with him. Not at all sure how you allowed emotions to slip through the net. How things having gone from simple fucking to wanting to have your legs over his lap—to him washing dishes and drinking whiskey in your glass. Whiskey you bought for him, even if he never really came here. 

A just-in-case purchase. 

“Okay… you tell me one thing, and then I tell you one thing.” 

You think of Van Ness, of the many ways he had tried to get information out of you as you lay vertically in bed, unwilling to sleep and refusing to eat. A game he presented, frustration stitched into his forehead, but a determination fermenting in his bones. 

Dragging his tongue over his bottom lip, he nods, half-smiling. “Alright.” The tip of his fingernail tapping against your lower leg. “I’ll bite.”

Swirling your glass, you eye him over it. Thinking.

Trying to unpick why it’s normal, why it doesn’t feel odd that he didn’t call, that he just showed up and fits in all so well. The answer there, hanging in the corner—the evidence hammering against the walls you force yourself to throw up. 

You know why; you know how.

“Tell me something you’re ashamed of, that I wouldn’t already know.”

He sniggers, looking down, staring at the melting ice cubes in his glass. “But, you already know so much about me and my past mistakes.”

“Yeah, well,” you add. “You’re a fascinating read.” 

From the way he’s not lifted his chin, there’s something.

One big thing he’s thought up instantly. One that makes his broad shoulders tense and his jaw tighten. A secret, a regret, that likely comes out when he’s stuck in traffic—which has kept him up at night. A thing which makes him as reserved as you. 

“I almost got married once.”

“Yeah?”

“Left her… I left her at the altar.” 

You look at him, not moving your leg from over his lap, continuing to sip the wine. Not wanting to move, not wanting him to stop—

“Saw her. Before coming out here. Made me glad I did it, y’know? She’s happy—got a husband, kids.” 

His fingers strum against your leg. 

Clearing your throat, you place your glass down on your thigh. “You should be glad you didn’t marry her because you clearly didn’t want to.” 

“That too.” 

You add nothing more. Silence wrapping its heavy hands around you both as he begins to lightly tap quicker against your leg, taking the smallest of sips, waiting for you.  

“If I were her, I’d be embarrassed, but grateful.” He lifts his chin, staring at you from the side as you tilt your head to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t want someone to marry me because of obligation—I’d want them to choose me because they wanted me.”

His lips twitch, likely turning over your words, really considering them before nodding. It’s quick. Enough to make a piece of hair he’s been playing with fall over his forehead.  

Then, he relaxes, shoulders meeting the back of your sofa as he slides his fingers in softer, slower circles on your leg. 

“Your turn.” 

Smiling, you lean back into your cushion. “What do you wanna know?”

It dances in his eyes: Everything. 

Likely wishes to crack you open and see all of it. All the things not in his piss-poor file and the things not whispered around the office. 

Probably what happened in Cali and why you have resigned yourself to a desk. Why you entered his office that first day, why you’re— 

“Why’d you and Fiestl end things?” 

“That’s what you want to know?” 

Javi shifts his hips under your legs, licking his bottom lip. “I don’t want to ask something that you’re not willing to share. Want you to trust me.” 

You chew that, whatever words you had been rearing and desperate to say wilting away. Instead, you place your glass down on your coffee table. Clearing your hands. 

“Wasted question, but okay. I think, if we were honest with one another, we weren’t happy before I left for Cali. We’d… argued quite a bit. Even moved some of my things back.”

Swallowing, you stare off a little. Finding the scuff on one of the stools against the kitchen side. The one which had gotten caught on your bag one day, having flung to the floor and been scuffed against the kitchen tile. 

A reminder—a slither of something to show it was all real, and not make-believe. 

“Sometimes things heal when you leave them alone. Sometimes they worsen—the crack deepens,” you continue. “Ours was the latter. It’s hard when you’re competing—when you’re all trying to stand out—to get the good jobs. Cali to him meant more, but it was me who was sent. So…” 

You’re aware of his hand stroking up and over your knee. Waiting, letting the pieces of your story knit together like a puzzle he’ll unravel later. One you used to try and figure out, nights bleeding into day and still never close to solving. 

Further shattering when Cali took any chance of salvation. 

“You also don’t…really come back the same. Do you?” 

He waits for a beat, one which makes it feel all that much worse. “No.” 

You let out a shaky breath, reaching back for your glass, draining it. Removing your legs from him, considering curling them up under you as you try to smile.

It’s too much—him, being this close. 

Knowing if he looks hard enough, he’ll see all the imperfections covered so well with nice clothing and a hard stare; he’ll see the parts of you that have healed wrong, and the wounds which are still open. 

Yet, you want him closer. 

A part of you—the one without sense and any semblance of worry. The part which calls to him, that worries for him, that has begun to care more than you should ever have done. 

It’s why you take his glass before moving over him, leg on either side of his thighs, staring down into his eyes and allowing him the chance to stare into yours. 

They’re always soft, and warm—sometimes with a darkness that you hope sweeps over you, sometimes full of sparkles and lust. Other times, they’re wired with energy, almost vibrant as his mind turns and his brain concocts. 

It’s why he’s a good agent. Why he thinks ahead, why you know he’s not going to stop. 

You trace up his neck with your index finger, finding yourself being studied all over again.

“Why’d you come round, Javi?” 

Your lips are so close to his, the scent of whiskey mixing with the spices from the food you’d been cooking earlier, hanging all heavy in the air around you both. 

Slowly, he places his hands on your hips. “Think it’s my turn to ask a question, cariño.”

But, you don’t say anything. 

Watching him, sliding two fingers along his jaw, holding his gaze, watching his resolve screw up like a piece of paper. 

“I wanted you to know that I didn’t sleep with her. Didn’t take your advice about my tongue.”

You don’t move, fingers halting on his cheek. 

A thread strummed inside of you, forcing your lips to slide into a smile and your eyes to hold his. 

“That’s an odd thing to tell your secretary.” 

“You’re not my secretary.” 

You grin, and you can tell he wants to kiss it. About the same amount as you want to press your mouth to his and your body against his until you only hear your name. The one he says so often. 

“Are you trying to tell me I’m the only one, Peña? Is that it?”

Flicking your eyes over him, he slowly licks his lips. Your hips are desperate to roll, your body needing friction as he flicks his eyes from your mouth to your eyes, before placing his palms on your thighs. 

They’re warm. Soft. Slowly and torturously fanning each finger out over the skin as you lightly inhale—loud enough for him to hear. 

“Maybe I am.” 

It’s thick, the tension. Both of you are waiting, staring, unsure who’ll snap first. 

So he adds, “I’m not sleeping with anyone else, cariño.”

He watches you, and how his words land. See something flicker in his eyes, something pleading—something you want to answer but find the words can’t come. 

It’s just you, too. 

You will them. Almost want to shout them, but instead, you offer, “Kiss me.” 

“You sure?” 

Your eyes close, sliding your palms up his cheeks. “How long till your flight?”

“Few hours.” 

Opening your eyes, you burn the words into him. It’s just you, I hate it, but it’s you and only you. “Please kiss me, Javi.” 

And he does. 

chapter seven ->

[hyenahunt]

Saga: Epilogue - 1

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Jin, Jun

Proofreading: 310mc (JP) & hyenahunt (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Jin: I’d risen from my grave by mistake, but you've struck me dead once more.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Reverse Live Stage

Jin: “♪~♪~♪”

Jun: “~…♪”

(GODDAMN! This is so freakin' hard! I’m going at full throttle to kick Sagami Jin's ass, y’know~!?)

(I’m baring my fangs and howling at him, with every intent to strike him dead!)

(But thanks to that damn video that just played, the audience just sees me as some kinda huge starstruck fan of his…)

(And every time I lunge at him, they just start squealing!)

(I can hear 'em now… “Oh, he loves him so much!” “He looks so happy getting to sing with his idol!” “Congrats on your dream coming true!”)

(Couldja not look so fondly at a scene like this~!? I mean, c'mon!)

(Damn it all! Well yeah, my dream did come true, but it's a world away from what you guys think it is!)

(So don’t look at me like that, I'm begging ya~ Why the hell did things turn out like this!?)

Jin: …Sacchan. You’ve gotta focus~ Both your singing and dancing aren't looking too hot. You doing okay? Getting tired?

Jun: 'Scuse me? “Sacchan”? Don'tcha go acting like we're friends, Sagami Jin!

Jin: Well, you’re always calling me by my full name too… And that feels so dead-serious that it's kinda scary…

I’d be a lil' more comfortable if you could ease up and just call me something like Jin-san.

Jun: Haha! Well, if it bothers you so much then I’m just gonna keep calling you Sagami Jin~!

So if you’re giving me an annoying nickname in return just to get back at me, I guess I can't really complain, huh~?

Jin: Hmm, not quite… Calling you Sazanami just makes me think of your dad, see.

And since our names are kinda similar, saying your first name feels like saying my own… so I thought I'd try a nickname.

Jun: Seriously? We’re nowhere close enough to be using nicknames! You better keep in mind that video was edited and nowhere near close to reality!

So if you'd kindly not confuse the two then I'd really appreciate it! You’ve always been and always will be my most resented foe, got that~!?

Jin: I do get it. It's only natural that you hate me — It's what I deserve considering all the people I trampled over just to climb to the top.

Among them were parents who had mouths to feed, along with innocent people who had done nothing wrong… Really, I always knew a day like this would come.

That's why I chose to run away back then, disgusted with the yakuza-like business I was doing.

Jun: ……

Jin: Y’know, Sacchan… I’m kinda confused, too. I thought that even if you were to hit me or kill me, I had no right to protest.

Jin: But take a look. When I actually surrender to fate and face you, our audience cheers in delight.

And it's not 'cause they’re thirsting for violence, no. Nobody wishes to see that.

And well, showing people things they don’t want to see — Is that really what an idol does?

I don’t think it is. No… in fact, that's what my kids taught me. I’m supposed to be the teacher, but I just keep learning new things from them.

I wish I could’ve learned all this much, much sooner. That’s why I’m passing it down to you, while you still have your whole life ahead of you.

'Course, I know it's nowhere near enough to make up for all the pain I caused you and your dad…

Jun: ……

Jin: …That video… truly opened my eyes. It made me really understand the atrocity of the things I’d done.

And what I'd done… was destroy a family and ruin a child’s life.

Join us for Project-Saga, the revival of legendary idols, they said… I let myself get taken in by such a drunken plan, see…

Even I ended up giving in to the fun, and I let it guide me here as if it were all a nice little dream.

But of course, that wasn’t right. You reminded me that I no longer deserve to be an idol.

Jin: I’d risen from my grave by mistake, but you've struck me dead once more.

Won’t you make do with that? If I’m such a condemnable eyesore in your eyes, then I’ll disappear for you. If you want me to beg for forgiveness, then I’ll beg 'til you’re satisfied.

Even if I offered up my life, I still can’t possibly make up for the peaceful family and happy childhood I stole from you.

But it’s all I have, so I’ll offer it all up to you.

So just… Don’t lay a finger on my students. They’re innocent.

No — I'd like you to also forget your hatred and live on happily, with a smile. What must I do for that?

I may be a teacher, but I don't know a thing, so won't you teach me…? What must I do to atone?

Jun: …What must you do, huh?

Haha. Honestly, I’m already plenty satisfied, just from getting to see that look on your face and hearing you say those words.

Hell, from that very moment in SS when you were the one rooting for me from the audience —

You could say that already helped to save me.

Nah, actually… Being found and taken in by Ohii-san…

And becoming an idol great enough to stand on the same stage as you…

That must’ve already been all that I needed. For a wild stray that had lived by scavenging carrion to survive, it's plenty more than enough of a reward… You could say it was my salvation.

[ ☆ ]

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[meimi-haneoka]

È il mio 10 anniversario su Tumblr 🥳

It's apparently my 10th anniversary on Tumblr 😳😳😳

This blog definitely didn't start as a CCS blog, or not even a Clamp blog, I remember I was in my Saint Tail brainrot/withdrawal period, and I wanted to ramble about it all alone on a personal space, always hoping that Tachikawa sensei one day would write the extra chapter that she talked about on her blog...hence why I chose this url. For this and another personal reason, actually. I also loved to RT all the nice screencaps and edits for my favorite anime...

...then 2016 came and the love of my life, CCS, came back and my blog was absolutely swept away by the excitement, turning pretty much into a constant stream of CCS content and chapter commentary for Clear Card each month. When the anime came out in 2018, things only got worse 😂 but then in 2020 I started to realize about the translation differences between the English version and the original Japanese, and I decided that my beloved story deserved better than that, better than being misunderstood like that, especially the new characters that in the meantime I came to love so dearly...

So pretty naturally, I started to vent my frustration compiling all the mistakes/differences every month, in a very "whoever is willing to read it, is welcome to do so" fashion. For my convenience the differences are always included in my commentary. I haven't gone around promoting my posts very much, it's basically always "I run into someone confused about a line in the Eng ver/got some facts wrong, I tell them that the original JP actually says something else and I leave a link to my blog".

The more the story went on, the more I wondered if I was stepping on anyone's toes for doing these posts, but with my immense joy it seems they got Clamp's blessing, so I'll keep doing them till the very end of the story.

In between these commentaries, I throw some other translations I do mainly for myself (Twitter Spaces where Sakura is mentioned, interviews especially about the anime, etc) and that I like to organize more or less neatly in one place, and that people can share if they want. And also my fanarts, even though they never do big numbers here. But heh, I'll keep sharing them here too, cause it's my blog after all.

So yeah, 10 years of this. There were definitely times when I've hated this website and its community since things were becoming pretty toxic, flames started randomly out of nowhere, I just hope once the anime will be back it won't be the same shit again. I stopped looking at the CCS tags because of that and other reasons connected to that, so unless one of the people I follow shares it and puts it on my dash, I almost never reblog CCS art/edits/gifs etc. Cause the pretty artworks aren't worth wrecking my mood because I found the nth person shaming something that I love (and the people who love that thing, with it). Sorry about that, my blog is pretty boring in that sense.

Luckily, Tumblr brought me also good things, so I guess it makes up for that. I've met lots of people from my current CCS "circle", here.

To be honest, I know I have 2626 followers (as of today), but to this day I still wonder why. I highly doubt all of them are here because they're interested in my posts, probably not even half of them, lol (and I do my best to kick the bots). Nonetheless, thank you to all the people who interact with my posts ❤️ and thank you for sending me nice asks every month! 🙏 I don't always reply to them right away and some of them I leave for later when I have a downtime (like this one ask that's pretty broad in topic and I'm keeping it for when I have a little more time and nothing else to talk about).

Since Clear Card will continue for a little more than expected, the monthly appointment here will continue in parallel, and I'm already preparing my next "trivia" post, it's a topic I wanted to talk about since looooooong time. 😉

[sakurakamanata]

Before saying goodbye to Liar! Uncover the Truth…

This game has always been dear to me (as much as My Last First Kiss does! even now) but sadly not every game we love has a happy ending. The closure of JP Liar was foreboding, yet the announcement still hits just as hard!

I have been playing again since the announcement. Although I’ve branched my otome tastes a little more, this game is still charming, not afraid to bring out all the crazies and fun, and still have in store plenty of heart-fluttering moments!

(And so much personality in the localization; I miss that a lot nowadays T_T)

Although a bit of content of JP Liar has been ported to Koi100+, they were nowhere near everything. The gameplay definitely hits different as well due to format limitations. And of course my hope is that Liar! will make its way to Love365 as well, but nothing has been confirmed and time is running out.

And you know how I will always and forever miss Gossip Girl Party.

Did you know they deleted the PV off their channel? I didn’t! And I’m still furious >:(

So I was able to find many other Liar! fans and we’re trying our best to archive everything that we can! The progress have been great, but we definitely still miss some content, namely data files, event routes and false accusations. We also talk a bunch about Liar! as we go through all the good old memories of the game (honestly I forgot how chaotic these guys were lmao)

If you’re interested in helping us with missing Liar! content, or just wanna have some meltdowns together while we play the game for one last time, feel free to join the Discord server!

It’s been a long time I’ve been active in the community and it’d be nice if Liar! fans all around can hold a funeral together have some fun again! Reblogs are much appreciated, and if you know a Liar! fan community elsewhere, feel free to share this post and let me know about it!

Thanks for reading, and much hope that she will come back and kick some more ass someday in Love365 :)

[sandradoodles]

Hi! Kinda a random question but are there any songs that you associate with miraculous ladybug? ♡

Hi anon! You run the @miracusongs blog, right? :) I’m not sure if these would be a good fit for your playlist but these are the songs that I associate with some of the characters and lovesquare sides. 💗

Low Low by TEN & YANGYANG is my semi-serious Ladynoir song

You can throw me like a yo-yo But I promise I won't let go If you don't trust me by now, tell me right now What can I do just to keep you around?

Magic by TXT is my cute Marichat song

Feeling like my heart just froze Nowhere to go with no one, nobody Suddenly, you came through Making me make a move Nobody got it like you I can't look away, I can't

Hey Stupid, I Love You by JP Saxe for Marichat and/or Adrienette (also linking this version ft. Mau y Ricky because it is SO GOOD)

I just wish you could lean in and kiss me say Nothing's wrong Tell me to settle down You do it better than I've ever known how I won't pull some tricks for attention But could I get a little now

Crazy Sexy Cool by Astro for Ladrien lol THE LYRICS ARE NOT SEXY they’re just--

The end to this breathtaking feeling I’m feeling you through the wind From now on, you’re my dream You’re the dance I want to dance

Cheese by Stray Kids is my chaotic pre-Adrien Plagg song (this one is a perfect fit and I will not hear otherwise)

I love what you hate Whatever you say, it's all fun to me Thank you, I love it Gonna create chaos with our nonsense now

[dmclemblems]

if it's alright, can i ask why you like dimi/claude so much? like, the particular reasons you like them lol hope that doesn't come off as "how the hell do you like them" kind of thing

Yeee, tis fine! I feel like I’ll probably miss some of the reasons why I love them so much, but I’ll try to cover everything.

uh oh it got beeg

Things from the game itself:

I like that they hang out together sometimes (in the main story and in the DLC), when the lords don’t usually hang out together in their free time. Out of all the combinations of them, only Dimitri and Claude hang out together (with a story based exception during the DLC with Dimitri and Edelgard that never gets touched upon again even though it’s actually important and story relevant). There’s also the implication that they train/spar together in GD, with Dimitri saying “as ever” he has proven to be no match for Claude. During the “going to GM cutscene”, they’re walking together and talking together (a theme that Nintendo uses in their official art in almost every official of the three lords lmao).

Claude’s crest symbol is a moon, and Dimitri’s route is called Azure Moon (which is also coincidentally the only route they’re able to ally in because Dimitri dies in VW)

They’re a package deal in the game and in official art from Nintendo! Cipher promotions? Both of them got plastered on it together. The 2019 happy holidays artwork? Sitting down together while Edelgard is standing up (with Dimitri ??? staring at Claude with this oddly happy and dreamy look??? hey, Nintendo???). the artwork of Edelgard turning around while the lords are walking, but she’s behind the other two who are both walking together and talking? And... so on.

Another instance of “damn, how much time do you actually spend together where we aren’t aware of it” is Dimitri referring to Claude as his “friend” in the DLC to Aelfric. That point of the game is still very early on, but Dimitri doesn’t just toss the word “friend” around with everyone. He uses other terms like acquaintance, companion/companionship, etc. Rather than use any similar words for Claude, he just outright uses “friend”, and he doesn’t use that term unless he really believes it.

In the game itself, the start of it is Edelgard almost being killed and Byleth protects her, but with the other two nowhere to be seen for... some reason. When Edelgard is safe, suddenly they both come running up together and smile at each other like “lol sorry we got distracted by each other’s beauty but hey glad you’re both safe uwu”. Listen, it’s a tiny thing but WHEN IT ADDS up...!

Very cute moment for me when, if you’re playing GD, Dimitri takes a keen interest in Claude’s “schemes”. Most people consider his supposed schemes to be a bad thing and dread it openly. Dimitri is just out here like ooo tell me more, I wanna know! 

During the mock battle, Claude tries to tease him and fails miserably. By the time of the actual Battle of the Eagle and Lion (and Deer, wah wah), Dimitri is used to Claude’s teasing and jokes with him! Instead of a deadpan response where he just doesn’t know Claude well enough to know how he behaves, this time Dimitri is used to him and responds to him with a more “lol okay Claude” vibe. It’s much more apparent in the JP dialogue that he’s aware Claude is teasing/joking, but he goes along with it.

There’s a bit more of a rivalry between Dimitri and Edelgard, oddly. Even this early, he’s seeing her as more of an adversary (maybe to foreshadow, since the BotEaL had a boatload of foreshadowing) and seeing it as a more serious competition. With Claude, he’s much more relaxed and seeing their battle as more of a test of skill and mutual gain to learn from. He says he will “happily” battle Claude and urges him not to hold back. In contrast, he tells Edelgard that the thought of fighting her is “troubling at best” and is bothered by her “joke” (Claude jokes with him too and he’s much more receptive. Edelgard’s “joking” was more foreshadowing, but he doesn’t take well to it and that same joke/response happens again after the battle too). The direction of both conversations is the polar opposite, and he doesn’t feel at ease when fighting her.

Following that, his relationship with Edelgard is tense, and it’s a huge contrast to how he feels around Claude. That is, notably, whenever him and Edelgard interact there’s a wall between them (such as when she’s walking by with Manuela, going to their mission, and her and Dimitri have a misunderstanding that ends in a tense ending to their conversation) Due to their circumstances, their relationship is pretty rocky even during the first half of the game in BL. Throughout the first half of the game, this aspect of their relationship is static (until of course he finds out her identity as the Flame Emperor and it just goes downhill from there). Then we have him and Claude, where starting at the mock battle, Dimtiri misses Claude’s silly behavior and is more serious about the battle as mentioned before. Over time though he’s obviously learned what Claude is like, and during the official battle you can clearly see a difference in Dimtiri’s overall attitude when he hears Claude joke with him. This time he knows what to expect and is receptive to Claude’s behavior, going along with it and being glad to have this battle with him. His demeanor toward Edelgard, however, doesn’t change at all. He still doesn’t like the idea of fighting her seriously, nor takes well to her “jokes” and  yet seems to see her as more of an adversary to overcome. Around Claude, Dimtiri has more friendly vibes in both their routes and is pretty open to learning about Claude and talking to him casually.

Kind of a small instance but with a little more meaning to me?: them fighting side by side at Garreg Mach when the Empire invades. Dimitri was in his Very Nutty state, and even more so if you’re playing BL. He’s so out of it that Dedue has to direct everyone in his place. Due to the BLs knowing what he’s going through, you’d think at least one of them would be keeping an eye on him during the battle. Instead, it’s Claude he’s fighting alongside! Dimitri was very expressive about wanting to be the one to reach Edelgard in that battle, but the cutscene shows him with Claude, rather than rushing for Edelgard.

Gronder! Even though Dimitri gives out his famous, stolen-from-Miklan-because-Miklan-said-it-first-and-apparently-inspired-Dimitri-to-use-it-later-in-life line, “kill every last one of them”, his actual dialogue with Claude is very different from that (on both routes). All he says is that he wants Claude to move and has no time to talk. If he meant it that he really wanted to kill people from the Alliance or didn’t care about Claude as a person, he would have tried to run him down for getting in his way. Claude even said he wouldn’t budge, which normally would prompt Dimtiri at that point to attack him and kill him to get him out of the way. In AM Claude retreats when defeated, but Dimitri lets him escape and doesn’t mind at all that he’s fleeing. Because of that you can specifically clarify that Dimitri doesn’t think of him as an enemy, because he chases enemies down and kills them at that point (remember all those dead soldiers we were hearing about early into the timeskip?). When Edelgard tries to escape, Dimitri doesn’t just let her go without attempting to follow her. This clarifies that he sees her as an enemy, because again, he’ll chase down anyone considers his enemy. When Claude left, even though he can intentionally stand in Dimitri’s way, Dimitri won’t kill him even though he probably could.

When Claude requests aid, he doesn’t ask for Byleth’s help. He doesn’t ask for Seteth or the Church’s help (which is working with Byleth/the Kingdom and the direct enemies of the Empire). He asks for the Kingdom’s aid. This Dimitri centric view continues through all of chapter 19, with him specifically believing in Dimitri and his mentality.

Hurray Failnaught! Normally characters give their Relics to Byleth (for game mechanic/convoy purposes), but Claude gives him specifically to Dimitri. Since he plans to leave Fodlan and return to Almyra where they don’t fight with these weapons, he likely feels he has no reason to bring it with him. Instead, he leaves it with someone he trusts both with his family heirloom and Fodlan itself. Claude doesn’t trust easily, but he had faith that Dimitri would finish the war and restore Claude’s second home.

In the same chapter, Claude... somehow knows a LOT about Dimitri. Obviously he learned everything offscreen and we don’t know how or why, but not only does he know that Dimitri can still be reasoned with (Teach will talk and he’ll listen), suggesting that he’s aware that the person Dimitri was is not gone despite the meeting they had in Gronder, but during the “here have my family heirloom” scene, he tells Dimitri that the dead cling to them without regard for their own/the living’s lives. During the Academy phase we don’t have any indication that he knows what’s going on with Dimitri... but then, I recall them fighting side by side during the invasion of the monastery, so perhaps Claude started to put the pieces together if he was able to see the state Dimitri was in. Canon? Not necessarily, but it’s something I consider when I want to answer why Claude knows this stuff about Dimitri when Dimitri didn’t tell him about it.

Yes, Teach will talk and he’ll listen, but by then Dimitri had already  made the decision to help the Alliance- er, well, Claude. The Alliance itself? Hm. Claude? Yes, let’s go help Claude-- er, the Alliance, he means! The Alliance! But... but also Claude! Okay, I’m kind of joking. Kind of. A lil bit. By which I mean, Dimitri is very vocal about saving Claude more than he is the Alliance. Leave the latter part to Lorenz, I guess. It’ll make him happy and that would make me happy!

So, on the topic of him already making the decision to go aid Claude, not only was Claude correct, but Dimitri literally went to begin their march to the Alliance the next day after they recaptured their own capital. They celebrated and then the very next day he’s like “uh yeah sorry for this guys, but Claude wants our help so we’re leaving. Now. Pack your things. If you’re not ready in ten I’m leaving without you. Claude needs help.” I’M JOKING. Mostly. A lil bit.

They reach the battle destination and Dimitri is uh, very specific that “they will not let Claude die”. He only recently came out of his nommy nom, chewy enemies state, and he’s already over here like hell nah we ain’t lettin’ Claude die. I didn’t spare him at Gronder for nothin’. Let’s go, let’s go!

Claude, who he doesn’t know nearly as well as the BLs, “crosses too many dangerous bridges for his liking”. For sure, Claude does some risky things, but he’s not someone who is within Dimitri’s immediate friend group. All the same, Dimitri worries about him (a lot in this chapter, too) and expresses that he doesn’t like Claude taking these kind of risks (that could endanger his life).

“This must be one of your jokes”. Not sure Claude was ever really one to often make jokes that we know of? The way it’s phrased, “one of your jokes”, sounds like more of an inside thing? As in, “I know you well enough to know you behave like this”, kind of thing. Doesn’t sound like much, until I start adding up all the times they’re together/talking to each other. For reference, times such as ones I’ve mentioned in this post (walking to GM with Byleth between them and Edelgard, if you’re playing GW Dimitri implies he’s sparred with Claude and uses “as ever” as if to say it happens often enough that it’s a familiar result, them hanging out during their free time after the mock battle, them fighting side by side during the invasion of GM even though Dimitri insisted he was going to basically rush the battle and ker-slice Edelgard’s head off and show up at Enbarr with it in hand...) Suddenly it doesn’t seem so odd that they might know each other a little bit more than the story that we get to see lets on. Even if it was small talk, enough of that and enough sparring/fighting alongside each other would add up enough for them to start learning things about each other.

Kudos to Dimitri for being the only person in the game that gets a pet name from Claude. Teach is just a casual way of saying “professor”, and “princess” is literally what Edelgard is. Princeliness is... Quite A Title I Guess. “Princess” is dropped and Claude refers to Edelgard as just Edelgard in the timeskip, but Dimtiri gets a nickname update! Now he’s “Kingliness” instead!

Some Hopes ones (I shipped them way  before Hopes was a thing but these made me happy!):

Background similarities! In Hopes if you play AG, they talk very early on (before the timeskip) about Dimitri’s life after the Tragedy. To sum it up, he was being targeted by his own family with murder attempts and he was very isolated (one NPC describes it as nearly being like house arrest with how isolated he was). Even if you don’t consider Hopes to be too much canon with its character background lore, the isolation part checks because in Houses, Dimitri says he didn’t have any friends left after the Tragedy. He only had Dedue for companionship after that in the castle itself, unable to see his other friends as often due to them living in different territories.

Another similarity from Your Hopes Truly is Dimitri being paranoid on expeditions. As he puts it, he “can't help but peer over his shoulder lest an assassin lodges his blade in his back”. He’s literally paranoid of assassins... a lot like how Claude sleeps with a knife under his pillow. :’( They both worry a lot about having to be vigilant because they could die at any time. Even though Edelgard is also royalty, her trauma expresses itself differently and she doesn’t worry about assassins as outwardly (possible also because she has Hubert around, who would be more likely to catch assassins lurking around than the people around Dimitri and Claude). I’m sure she knows people will be after her because she’s royalty, but she doesn’t worry about it in the same way.

This one is more recent and Hopes based, but in AG the game decides to be Big Dumb and is like “nobody in the BL house trusts Claude... for some... reason...” but Dimitri is gung ho adamant that they can trust Claude. His portrait even switches to his smiling portrait! “I’ve never known him to be a liar” despite how little time they had together at the Academy in this game is a big amount of trust imo.

On the same note, AG is like a mirror of AM’s chapter 19! Claude trusts Dimitri and that he will show up to help. In AG, they need the Alliance’s help and Dimitri trusts Claude to show up without question. When the Alliance shows up and Claude isn’t there, he wonders where Claude is, and when Claude does show up being the smart little sneaky not-literal-bastard-because-he’s-actually-a-legitimate-child bastard he is, Dimitri is like :D I knew you would come no matter what. This man literally implicitly trusts Claude. Sounds like someone had a crush when they were younger... Now his crush is helping them and he’s all bubbly and excited inside... uwu... uwu... UWU...

More Hopes stuff despite the bad writing moments. In SB, Claude confronts Edelgard because they were so focused on locating Rhea that they didn’t even consider Dimitri’s motivations for being part of that battle. His portrait is even his upset portrait for them “not even sparing a thought for Dimitri’s motivations”, in his exact words. He’s not all too happy that they were so determined by their goal that they didn’t consider Dimitri, specifically.

Similarly, if you get the Arval chapter, Dimtiri worries for Claude’s safety if Claude tries to take the Church out of power. Despite that Dimitri lists off reasons why That’s A Really Fucking Bad Idea, he also includes that he doesn’t want Claude to be in danger, and their discussion ultimately ends with Claude saying “you really are too good for me!”. Claude, that’s sus.

Not game specific, but motivated by the contents of the game:

Claude is a very casual person, and Dimtiri wants that in his relationships (of any kind). Actually, he repeatedly asks people to be casual with him and doesn’t want to be treated like a prince. In no way does Claude treat him like a prince and just treats him exactly the way Dimtiri would prefer, without even having to be asked to do so. This is part of what makes me wonder if the reason Dimitri is so receptive to Claude and why they bounce so well off each other’s personalities, despite seeming so different in demeanor, is because Dimitri experiences those kind of informal exchanges with him that most others won’t grant him.

More often than not, even in GD, Claude expresses being an outsider. That means that even though the people around him are mostly/generally pretty chill with him (i.e. his GD classmates just treat him like another classmate and not the foreigner in the class), he still doesn’t feel totally accepted there. Likely, it’s the little things he picks up about them, such as Hilda’s negative comments about Almyra. They’re pretty chill together, but he’s Almyran, and royalty at that, yet she doesn’t know that. For him, that could be like, okay so she’s one of the people I proooobably should definitely not tell my identity to, like, ever. I’m not saying Hilda specifically is the only person he would have to be wary of, but the problem is still there.

On the other hand, Dimitri... literally does not give a fuck who is a foreigner and who is not. More than anyone else besides, equally, Claude, he pushes to have people from other lands seen as equals to those in Fodlan and wants them to be just as accepted.

Also, Claude’s post timeskip advice box:

What did these two do, share notes? Pass notes in class? Skip class and hang out in the bathroom while they skipped?

To be specific, Dimitri highlights all aspects that Claude guns for too. He hates that he’s been hated all his life for his lineage and never saw it as fair. Dimitri wouldn’t see that as fair either. Claude doesn’t think his lineage or bloodline matters when it comes to being accepted and what relationships he has. That’s also Dimitri’s line of thinking when he insists he doesn’t want to be treated as a prince. He just wants normal relationships. This also applies to Crests, where in which he doesn’t believe having or not having one should decide a person’s, well, anything.

Being two races, Claude has struggled to feel accepted on either side. Meanwhile, Dedue has struggled a lot to get by in Garreg Mach because of the prejudice against Duscur’s people. Even if some of the people of Duscur did do what everyone accused them of, they’re dragging those accusations well beyond that and treating Dedue as if he had anything to do with it. In Dimitri’s B support with Dedue, he makes it extremely clear to his own soldiers that he’ll have nothing to do with that behavior. He sees Dedue as another human being, as he would anyone else. Even though most characters don’t care what race someone is, most of them don’t actively try to fight for justice for other races of people being mistreated in Fodlan. Dimitri is one of the only people who will walk up to someone and tell them to fuck off for being racist, and mind you, if this wasn’t a T rated game and more explicit curse words were allowed to be used, I am quite positive Dimitri would quite literally tell those people to fuck off. He acts all upstanding and polite, but he’d also curse at someone who deserves it and is definitely angry enough to be a semi-big curser lol.

Both of them discuss faith with Byleth, too. While Claude doesn’t like the idea of praying to gods and often talks about how he isn’t in with the whole Sothis religion, Dimitri says the same thing, basically. In his Goddess Tower conversation, he expresses his feelings about “the goddess”, and it pretty much equals that he couldn’t give a flying fuck about her because she doesn’t help those in need despite supposedly watching over their land. He feels that she’ll watch and do nothing to help, not even reach out a hand to people who need her. Dimitri firmly does not believe in the religion that Fodlan follows, even despite literally being the crown prince of a nation that was legitimatized by Rhea herself. Neither of them care about Fodlan’s religion personally, but they both accept people who do and don’t badmouth her in front of devout followers. For example, Claude talks to Ignatz about the goddess and jokes with him. He doesn’t try to tell Ignatz he’s wrong for being faithful to a goddess that Claude himself doesn’t believe in. Dimitri doesn’t care about the Seiros faith at all, but he’s very friendly with Seteth and on great terms with him (especially in Hopes! They’re very close in AG!). Even if Seteth personally is not very devout (which is actually the truth), he’s still Rhea’s second in command. You also have people like Mercedes, who are extremely if not almost excessively devout, but Dimitri never puts her down for that. That’s how Claude is with Ignatz, and Ignatz is very devout. Basically, both Dimitri and Claude hate the idea of believing in the goddess of Fodlan, but they never judge someone who does believe in that very goddess. In fact, after Duscur, I’m sure Dimitri felt he could never forgive the goddess for not saving his father, Glenn and all the others who died there. Even if she wasn’t from a goddess of Duscur, she didn’t even attempt to save Fodlan’s people, at the very very least. It’s not a surprise in that sense that Dimitri isn’t devout.

In the case of ideologies, both of them even use the exact same word here. No matter what someone believes or thinks should happen, no matter how people think lands should be managed, neither of them feel like that’s cause to judge someone. They both feel that people can have different ways of thinking no matter how vast those ways of thinking might be, and still get along just fine.

This basically sums up both of what they want tbh, and it’s something they both strive for as early as the first half of the game.

Other aspects I love:

Other than that, I like to think about their personalities too! They’ve been through a lot of the same things and have a lot of the same feelings, so I think they would understand really well how to help each other. While Claude doesn’t think he deserves the treatment he gets, Dimitri tends to think he deserves all sorts of bad things. I feel like Claude could teach Dimitri to care about himself more and to stop thinking so poorly about himself. For Claude, I think he’d have “might get killed at any moment” ingrained into him, but I think he’d feel safe around Dimitri but also accepted and loved. Dimtiri is extremely straightforward and honest, and I think Claude would know for a fact that he can trust that Dimitri is honest about his feelings. He wouldn’t have to question if Dimitri actually loves him and if he secretly hates that he’s half Almyran. Because of how Dimitri has always been, I don’t think he’d actually worry about that and any worry that might nag him in passing he’d be able to tell himself is only a paranoid habit.

Also, Almyra loves strength! Pretty sure if Claude walked back into Almyra with a 6′2 superhuman-strength Blaiddyd on his arm that Almyra would be, to say the least, impressed lol. Not only would Dimitri be on par with their strongest generals, but if he got the attention of royalty, regardless of their feelings on that royalty, I think they’d have to take notice. I have headcanons about how the Almyran children would love learning from Dimitri and eventually run around pretending to be as strong as him when he starts helping them train. 🥺 Most of the adults wouldn’t like Dimitri at first because he’s from Fodlan, and even more than that a royal form Fodlan, but I think they’d come around after seeing how much the kiddos respect him and how kind he is to them. Even if they were meh about him being with Claude, I think they would start to respect Dimitri as an individual and not only appreciate when he’s around, but enjoy having him there for competitions, because Dimitri also loves being competitive and training.

You also get the silly opposites aspect with their homelands! Claude would be freezing in Faerghus, especially Fhirdiad. You know he’d be stealing all the blankets and be a Claude burrito by morning. Dimitri would have to accommodate him with lots of warm clothes because poor Claude would be shivering in full armor! It gives lots of room for cuddles and snuggies tho!!! !!! !!! 6′2 warm man and lots of blankets means lots of warmth and comfy sleep zzzzz...

Then you have Dimitri in Almyra and he hates hot weather (specifically, hates, so he says in an advice box letter). Claude would have to tend to him to keep him cool, sure, but I think Dimitri would whine a lot about the heat and I think it’d be rly cute and I think Claude would also think so. He’d have to bring Dimitri to the sea to let him stay in the water for a while, and then struggle to get him out of the water.

Something else I like to consider is how Dimitri would probably love to learn Almyran since he’s bilingual as it is, and I feel like he’d love to learn their culture and whatnot as well. Like I said, he’s really big on people from different places mingling, and he’s been trying really hard to get Duscur to be seen as an intendent land again. In Hopes, he’s trying to fix relations with Sreng (which Claude even considers Sreng in VW when mentioning his dream in full toward the end of the game). Getting to learn about Almyra would be something I feel that Dimitri would love experiencing.

Personality wise Dimitri’s a lot more on the formal speaking side, but they can absolutely both joke and be little shits! I’d love to see them banter with each other because they both have it in them. In fact, I think it would lead to lots of laughs and silly times and I think after everything, they both really need that!

tap tap am i missing something am i missing anything from this fic-sized essay tap tap my cat was staring at me for at least 50% perfect of this. i mean, straight up just staring and watching me from my bed and i just think that’s something i should share

OH YEAH I also love the interracial aspect because it really drives home their desire about race and everyone getting along. 🥰

Also, I feel like Claude needs someone he can really, truly trust and Dimitri needs someone who can make him really start to care about and respect himself again.