#Anything in his field of vision. My there has been a lot going on. But this is a solid well written episode. If only more of s.3 existed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ffsg0jo · 1 month

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�� his golden spear ��

character: dreamer!gojo × fem!reader (reader is poc/south asian coded but barely any mentions of physical features except nipples)

warnings: jjk × asoiaf , self-harm , madness , reader is from house martell , does NOT follow asoif canon everything is very vague/only minor references/not in timeline order , mentions of eye-gouging , mentions of death , ooc gojo , mentions of whores , reader has brown nipples urm i can't think of anything else , lowkey insta-love ish , some parts are disjointed on purpose , they dont know that hes a dreamer btw they just think hes batshit crazy , NO SPOILERS !!

w/c: 3.4k ish

a/n: this was written while i was sleep deprived and delirious, so read it with a handful of salt. it's been plaguing my mind, though, and i had to write it. it's also a lot longer than initially anticipated, so i hope you all enjoy it <33 all credits go to @sweetmelodygraphics for the dividers !!

fics4gaza :: jjk masterlist

Satoru was losing his mind. He's been having visions for the entirety of his life, vivid visions about the past, present, and future. At first, he thought nothing of them, being young and playing them off as his wild imagination or whimsical dreams. But when some were proven to ring true, fear struck through his heart.

His own mother's passing an example of it.

He could barely make sense of some, and others were so clear-cut they felt like memories. But regardless, the sense of impending doom never left his body. The visions, as of late, had only been getting worse, distorting his sight.

It was strange. Sometimes, he'd go weeks without dreaming only to be suffocated by an onslaught of nonsensical dreams, seeing them whilst he was awake too, rendered unable to distinguish reality from his debilitating hallucinations. His head constantly throbbed and ached, and he's wracked with crippling nausea more often than not.

Overwhelmed and overstimulated, Satoru feels like plucking his hairs out one by one. He doesn't know what to do with himself, his body on autopilot, dissociating when it gets too much for him.

In writing down his visions, Satoru thought he could begin to make sense of them, maybe try and figure out patterns, but they only served to confuse him more. Hurt his head more, and suddenly, he found himself subconsciously scribbling images into the air, without a quill or parchment in his hand. Others around him started to whisper of his condition. Targaryen madness, they’d say, sending him pitiful glances.

He so desperately wanted answers and respite, starting and ending his days in tears, but his madness overtook him.

His visions, dreams, whatever the hell they blurred into real life, and he felt like he was losing his grip on reality. He saw his hands dissolving before his very eyes. It's true what they say about Targaryens. When one is born, a coin is tossed, and the whole world holds its breath. Greatness or insanity.

Insanity ran through his dragon blood.

He sees the decapitated heads of the three-headed dragon, meticulously being sewed back on with a golden spear and red thread. He saw his dragon, Vermithor, grazing on sheep in fields, burning bright orange. A snake, wrapping around his arm and squeezing him tight. He will see a hand reaching towards him, a shiny ring adorning each finger, a soft laugh reverberating through his ears.

The laughter echoed in his head ever since. He heard it almost all day and night now. A brief respite only when he clamped his head tight between his hands.

His ears are permanently scratched and raw.

The world strangely seemed to take a golden hue, and he felt like all the colours blur into one, and he could no longer tell them apart. He became breathless when his usually white hair turned red, his brilliant cerulean eyes, gold. The red bleeding through the gold, into orange, dripping down his skin.

He was trying to gouge his eyes out. He brought the valyrian steel dagger up to his face, and just as he was about to cut the stupid things out, the Lord Commander sworn to his father, disarmed him, tackling him to the ground. Satoru kicked and screamed and sobbed. He wanted the visions to end, he wished to see no longer.

The small scar on the apple of his left cheek serves as a sorry reminder.

In attempts to subdue the noise ringing in his head and the visions blurring his sight (as well as any further attempts of Satoru harming himself), the blackest of black materials was tied tight around his head. With his ears sufficiently muffled, and his eyes bathed in darkness, he felt like he could breathe.

It helped. He felt somewhat calm for the first time in years.

Despite the cloth tied around his eyes, Satoru could still strangely see. Whilst it wasn’t as clear as before, he could still make out figures and shapes, and if someone was standing close enough, their faces. His good friend Lord Suguru had tried the cloth and was completely blinded, so it was odd that Satoru could see through it. Still, with his vision limited, he felt safe from his own mind, and it wasn’t the strangest thing about Satoru at all. Not by a thousand miles.

On occasion, his visions would come back, pain shooting through his spine, and nothing in the world could stop them. Definitely not the flimsy cloth tied around his head. In those times, he had to be restrained and constantly watched by guards, lest he pour scalding molten lead into his eyes and ears.

The Mad Heir is what they called him. A laughable name you thought when you first heard of the proposal that was brought to you and your father. You felt insulted.

Satoru of House Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, Heir to The Iron Throne.

The Mad Heir to The Iron Throne.

How dare they offer you, a ruling Princess and Heir in your own right, a mad Prince. Marriages were rarely happy, oft filled with malcontent. The sanest of men mistreated their lady wives and what of mad men? You could hold your own, of that you were sure, but you did not want to go into a marriage fearing your life. You truly did want love to blossom in your union at some point, regardless of what seed sowed it.

But if an alliance was to be forged, to unite the Seven Kingdoms, and strengthen your house, then you were to meet in a little more than a moons time. You had little choice, your father pleaded and was adamant that you met the Prince at the very least. Begrudgingly, you accepted.

Packed and ready to set off, you mentally prepared for the long journey via ship. Maybe you'd get to see a dragon or two, you reconciled, forever curious about the wonderful beasts.

A marriage. That was exactly what Satoru needed. Another problem to add to his heaping pile of problematic problems. He did not understand why he had to get married. He was young, only one and twenty. He hadn't even had the opportunity to sample the whores of Flea Bottom yet.

Not that he had any interest in whores to be completely transparent. Between his debilitating madness and constant training, lessons, and attending small court, Satoru barely had time to breathe.

With his father's refusal to take another wife after his own mother passed came the incessant shoving of Satoru to marry his own.

He knew he was being stubborn; he knew realistically that if he did not breed, then the Targaryen line would end with him. If he had at least one or two children, if he was to pass before his time (which was looking very likely), then at least they'd inherit the throne.

But Satoru was adamant that the Targaryen line would not end. He'd seen it in a vision, clear as day. A girl with long white hair and blue eyes that mirrored his own, sitting peacefully in flames with three dragons circling her.

He consulted every single history book he had access to, and whilst they mentioned Targaryens being resistant to fire, there was no mention of a girl with three newly hatched dragons bathing in flames. To have one hatchling is considered a blessing many Targaryens are not fortunate to have, but to have hatched three? Almost impossible. With the lack of documentation, Satoru figured it must have been the future he saw.

Though there was something in his gut telling him to meet with the Princess he was to wed. And whilst he was plagued with madness, Satoru wholeheartedly trusted his intuition. He knew there'd be something to gain from the meeting, but he didn't know what just yet. Maybe an answer to his dreams? Unlikely, but tugging in his gut wouldn’t cease.

In less than half a moons time, he was to meet his potential future wife and Queen. And for once, he wished he'd receive a clear vision of what his future was to be.

Stares followed you as you walked through the courtyard of the Royal Court, having finally, after a month of travelling, reached King’s Landing. Some curious, others leering, you did not have the energy to pay them any more mind. To be frank, you were exhausted, not faring too well with weeks at sea. You wanted to soak in a warm bath and sleep in a real bed. If you hadn’t been so tired, you might’ve met their stares with a glare.

You knew why they were so ‘fascinated’ by you. You did not look like the noblewomen they were used to seeing. The burnt orange chiffon that covered your body was almost see-through, and if one was to look, really pay attention, they could see the brown of your nipples. A generous amount of your cleavage was on show, half covered by the red material draped around one side of your body and tucked into your arm.

A golden necklace, studded with amber stones, adorned your neck, with matching earrings, and a gold headband fixed just on top of your hairline. Your hair was free and unbound, unlike the ladies of court around you, who had their hair twisted into intricate braids.

Your mother, the Princess of Dorne, and your father were both bathed in similar colours, albeit a little more conservatively. Together, you were a blazing sight, embodying your house motto; unbowed, unbent, unbroken.

Your Royal convoy was met by the King and his Lords, who bowed and kissed your mother’s hand and warmly greeted your father. You bowed to the King, politely thanking him for his hospitality, and he responded to your words with a warm, familiar smile.

His son, the Prince, was nowhere to be seen. And although many might have been offended, you paid it no mind. As the Heir to Dorne, you knew very well just how busy his schedule could be. And in truth, you were nervous, wanting to stall your meeting as much as possible.

The maids led you to your room and had preemptively set up a warm bath for you to soak in, and you graciously thanked them. Your own personal maids took the liberty to add milk and honey to the warm water. Thanking them all once again, you dismissed them, wanting to bathe in peace.

You do not know how long you spent in the bath, lost in your thoughts. The water was now less than lukewarm, and your fingers had pruned up.

Whilst your body had been soothed and relaxed, your mind was far from. You had heard whispers about the Prince’s striking beauty, the magnificent blue of his eyes. Yet you still feared, usually the pretty ones had the worst personalities and egos in your experience. You had tried to ask the maids, but all they said was that ‘it would be the most agreeable match, your grace’.

The fact that no one was willing to tell you about your potential husband to be worried you.

All you knew was that he was mad and devastatingly handsome.

Sighing, you got out of your bath and dried off, calling your maids to help you get dressed. Once again, you donned light and airy chiffon, this time opting for a simple, short sleeved red dress and a burnt orange scarf draped over your left side and tucked into your waist with a golden band. The scarf was embroidered with gold outlines of the sun, matching your house sigil. A golden snake bracelet was wrapped around your forearm, but you decided to forgo the rest of your jewellery besides your rings. You wanted to explore the castle and feared too much jewellery would make unnecessary noise.

There were still quite a couple of hours till you were meant to dine with the Targaryens, so you quietly slipped out of your rooms and set out to explore your potential future home.

Nerves were worming throughout Satoru’s body, unsettling him deeply; he could hardly focus on the book in front of him. He had another dream last night, a golden spear barrelling straight through his heart. Except there was no pain or blood, he felt entirely at peace, and his heart had beaten even stronger.

Satoru had wrenched off his blindfold off, desperately searching through the archives. He tried to find out what the golden spear could mean or potentially represent. Initially, he thought it would mean there would be a good hunting season perhaps, and in another text, it made mention of how a spear could symbolise courage and achievement. Still, there was something in his gut telling him that it couldn’t possibly be it.

Maybe he’d die having won some great war? That wouldn’t make too much sense given that the Seven Kingdoms were at the height of their prosperity, and if his betrothal was to go well, that would only serve to further that. Every single possible conclusion he came to, his body was telling him he was wrong.

His palms dug into his eyes as he roughly exhaled, cursing under his breath. The doors to the library opened, and he knew a servant had probably found him to tell him he was to go back to the training he was skipping.

“I’ll be right there, just give me a moment.” He said, his breath coming out in quick pants, palms digging into his eyes further.

The pain brought him great comfort.

Instead of hearing the doors close, he hears light footsteps coming closer towards him. Gently, soft hands grasp at his wrists, slowly pulling them away from his eyes.

Satoru is shocked stiff, wondering which servant had the audacity to touch him in such way.

His eyes open, and the first thing he sees is a golden snake wrapped around a forearm. A jolt goes through his body, every single hair on his body stands, and his vision bleeds red.

A snake, the arm, Satoru’s vision from months ago finds him once more. He’s rendered breathless at the sensation, gasping for air. The hands move from his wrists to cup his face.

“-okay?”

His hearing is muffled, and his eyes struggle to find focus. His stomach bubbles with excitement and trepidation. There’s a soft voice lulling him back to reality, a familiar voice that he can not quite place. Fingers stroke his cheek, the cold rings bringing great ease, and eventually, it pulls him out of his own head.

“Just breathe,” the voice tells him, fingers gently closing his lids and returning to stroke his cheeks. Satoru’s breath somewhat evens out as he focuses on breathing. Once he’s settled, he squeezes his eyes shut and gains the courage to open them one more.

You’re beautiful, is his first thought. Breathtaking. An explosion of red and gold, a beautiful sunset orange.

You look like the answer to all his prayers.

“-you okay?”

Satoru snaps out of his thoughts and realises you’re talking to him. He wordlessly nods, his eyes moving away from your figure in embarrassment. Your hands fall from his face, and Satoru misses their warmth already. The incessant tugging in his gut had died down to a gentle pull, and Satoru knew, with certainty, he found what he was looking for.

“I apologise for touching you so brazenly, my Prince.” You said, thinking that the man in front of you was probably uncomfortable by your touch. You figured out who he was as you stepped into the library, after all, how many white-haired and blue-eyed people were there, casually walking around the Keep.

You knew you probably shouldn’t have touched him, but he looked like he was having a panicked episode. His breath came out quick and ragged, eyes blown wide and teary. You remembered how your parents would hold your face to ground you and guide you to breathing normally again, helping you calm down.

Satoru slowly turns back to you and takes you in once more. It’s better than the first time he laid eyes on you. His soul feels at peace, his body wanting to cave in on yours. He doesn’t even realise it, but the ringing in his ears had finally quietened down.

He notices the rings on your hands and instinctively moves to grab them.

“A spear?” He questions, somewhat frantic. You let him take hold of your hand, wanting him to feel at ease in your presence and quickly recognising this was the supposed madness everyone spoke about.

“Our sigil,” you explained gently, as he moved his face closer to your hand in disbelief. “Of House Martell. A sun, with a golden spear through it.”

“A golden spear,” Satoru repeated, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “How could I have been so stupid, of course it’s your sigil!”

The Prince’s erratic behaviour was more than a little alarming, but for some reason, you were not worried or in fear. You let him process whatever he needed to process, seeing the cogs turning in his brain.

His eyes also visibly cleared up, and his face looked much more relaxed. The Prince really was strikingly handsome. You felt drawn to him, fighting the urge to hold his hand properly, fingers itching to trace his little scar and stroke his supple cheeks once more.

“I apologise, Princess,” he says, calmed after minutes of just staring and fiddling with your ring. “It is unbecoming of a Prince to treat you in such a way.”

Still, he made no move to release your hand; you found that you did not mind, liking the roughened touch of his fingers on yours.

He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, and you realise if they were the last thing you saw, you would die a satisfied and happy woman. You shake your head at him, as if telling him not to worry about it. If anything, you should be apologising to him.

“And I also apologise for your betrothal to me.” His voice is a lot firmer than before, but still soft and whispery. You go to open your mouth to refute his statement, but he speaks before you can.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, so please-“ he gestures to the chair next to him with his free hand, “-sit, and we can discuss matters.”

Before you sit next to him, you grab the hand already on yours with your other and look at him imploringly.

“I know they say that you are mad, my Prince, but you are not broken or incapable of love. In truth, I was a little insulted by your proposal at first, but I truly think I could come to greatly care for you, if not love.”

You had not felt safer with a man alone, as you had with Satoru, besides your own father. It was a strange and indescribable feeling, but you felt as though your souls truly were connected, his presence bringing you ease. You didn’t believe in soulmates or love at first sight. You knew all too well just how cruel the world was, but in Satoru, you found the next closest thing.

Satoru visibly melts at your words. In truth, that’s all he could ask for. He presses a chaste kiss to your conjoined hands and nods.

With a smile on his face, he thinks he could learn to love you too.

He gently guides your hand to sit in the chair next to him, his sturdy thigh comfortably pressed against yours. For the first time in his life, Satoru opens up to someone about his thoughts and feelings with great ease.

In the next couple of hours, you truly get to know the ins and outs of the Heir to the Iron Throne, as he too became familiar with you, the future Princess of Dorne. Before you knew it, it was time for the dinner the King had prepared to welcome his guests.

You and Satoru had shyly walked to the dining hall together, side by side, your hand still in his grasp and resting on his arm.

His blindfold remained forgotten on the desk.

179 notes · View notes

localplaguenurse · 10 days

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Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 7

Beta if you're reading this, I'll see you in a bit!

Notes: talks of ableism and homophobia, it's not reader full blown trauma dumping but he's talking about his experiences as a closeted man with a controlling family. Check masterlist for previous parts.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

Pantalone’s demeanour immediately changes the moment the two of you are finally alone. The air in the room is no longer thick with tension, but as he offers you the last little piece of cake, you’re aware of a looming dread hanging over you. You’re aware the choice to finally stand your ground and defy your parents’ wishes, even if it’s just staying for dinner, will have consequences. Even then, witnessing Pantalone scold your parents like children was immensely satisfying, and makes your moment of recognized agency all the more sweeter.

Speaking of sweetness, the cherry bublanina is delicious. You hum at the taste, and swallow down your mouthful. “That’s actually really good,” you say, “did your staff make it, or did you get it somewhere?”

“It’s homemade,” Pantalone answers, “but I believe the recipe came from an old cookbook one of my chefs owns. I’m sure it’s out of print by now, so perhaps I can ask them to write the recipe for you.”

“I appreciate it.”

Pantalone looks at you inquisitively. “Say, do you cook?”

“I can, I just don’t do it much,” you answer. “We have a couple chefs, and as you just saw, my mother is very… protective, so she’s never liked the idea of me handling knives or being around stoves.”

Pantalone cringes a bit. “I can imagine.”

“I get it to an extent,” you continue, “not being able to see anything that isn’t directly in front of me has way more disadvantages than advantages, but she acts like I’ll immediately forget something unless I’m looking right at it. I’m losing my vision, not my object permanence, I still know where the stove is because I’m not stupid.”

“Does this sort of… situation happen a lot?”

You furrow your brow. “The object permanence or barging in on my private outings?”

“Both, I suppose. I’m asking if she’s ever been this overbearing before.”

You click your tongue, and turn your head away from Pantalone. You find yourself staring at a painting depicting a field of flowers with mountains in the background. After a moment of trying to make out what the flowers are, you sort of snap out of it and remember he asked you a question.

“Um…” You furrow your brow and think of all the times your mother has been overbearing in your childhood. You count incidents in your teen years all the way until now, and come to a realization. “I think she’s getting worse.”

You see Pantalone open his mouth to respond, and then your words sink in and he remains quiet.

You go on. “Compared to when I was little, she’s incredibly overbearing. I don’t even think it’s like she’s just as protective as when I was little, but now that I’m older it feels suffocating. I think she’s genuinely becoming more clingy with me.”

“I… I see. I’m sorry to hear that?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” you say, “and honestly, I don’t really want to talk about my parents right now.”

Your host shrugs. “I suppose that’s fair enough. To be quite honest, I only asked out of courtesy. I put up with your father’s antics and burdens enough as is.”

You chuckle. “I’d tell you you’re lucky you don’t live with him, but it wouldn’t be that different from now, huh?”

“No, it would not.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Pantalone perks up. You hear it open, and hear it’s Fyodor. “Sir, the two guests are having an argument outside.”

You hide your head in your hands and groan.

“Are they getting physical?” Pantalone asks.

“No, but it’s disturbing the peace and they’re not leaving.”

You hear Pantalone sigh. “If they don’t settle down and leave in the next two minutes, or if it does turn physical, get security involved.”

You presume Fyodor nods before he closes the door. You take a deep breath, humiliation washing over you and sinking into your pores. “I’m sorry, I-I don’t know why I expected them to be normal. I should’ve just declined the invite.”

You hear the scraping of Pantalone’s chair, and the clicking of heeled boots approaching you. You feel him right next to him, and jolt when his hand settles on your shoulder. You lift and turn your head to look at it, and here, you can see manicured nails, shining gemstone rings, and to your shock, how blemished and scar riddled the skin of his hand is. Some of them are small and neat, little cuts and scratches, but some are deep and painful looking, you’re not even sure what would have caused most of them. You can only assume the silvery splits on his knuckles are from old fights. What the hell happened to him?

“Would you care to see the library?”

You tilt your head up and see Pantalone smiling expectantly at you. “Oh, sure,” you answer. Pantalone steps back and lets you stand up from your chair. You push your chair back in before you follow Pantalone out of the room. Trailing behind him like a duckling, you find your pace instinctively slows down and your eyes drift back to the oddly unsettling art pieces he has lining the walls of the hallway. You want to be able to take in the macabre sight of them, which would be easier if you could actually see things normally.

Pantalone’s made considerable distance before he realizes you’re lagging behind. He stops, turning over to see you’ve now fully stopped, staring up at a particularly gruesome scene with some concern and confusion. He chuckles, joining you in staring up at the painting.

“It’s a lovely piece, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Indeed,” you reply, “love the use of red. Some say it’s the colour of warmth and love. I imagine it really puts guests at ease.”

He lets out a little laugh. “You know, perhaps I should have expected an author to have a little knowledge in colour theory.”

“It comes with the territory.”

“We’re almost to the library,” Pantalone states, “though we can stop and chat about art. I’m in no rush.”

You hum. “I’m more curious why all of your art is so… morbid.”

“I enjoy morbid art pieces,” Pantalone answers, “there’s something about the raw and visceral imagery that strikes a chord with me. Do you not enjoy it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you reply, “I’ll read books about tragedy and horror every now and then, and I enjoy gruesome depictions in art as much as the next person.”

“But?”

You shrug. “I don’t think I’d put them up in every hallway, but that’s also my personal preference. If you like it, more power to you.”

“I’ve had a few members of staff say they’ve been startled by certain pieces when wandering the halls late at night,” Pantalone comments, “so perhaps that supports your argument better.”

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t even see them if I was walking around at night.”

“Right, no peripheral vision.”

“Oh, not even that.” You turn yourself so you can properly talk to Pantalone. “One of the other symptoms of my condition is night blindness. My eyes can’t adjust to darkness anymore.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you.”

“What are you… oh, oh.” Pantalone chuckles. “Very funny. I’m sure you make that joke a lot.”

“People take me going blind too seriously,” you say, “they’re always worried they’re going to upset me if they even bring it up. That or they try to baby me like my mother does. If I make fun of it, it kind of puts people at ease.”

“Well, going blind is rather serious, no?”

“I mean, yes, but if I’ve already made peace with it, then everyone else should too.”

The conversation continues as you and Pantalone make your ways down the hall. He glances at you over his shoulder. “Apologies if I’m overstepping, but doesn’t it scare you at least a little bit?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m thrilled,” you answer, “but you have to understand that I’ve known about this since I was eight. I’ve been living like this my whole life. Worrying isn’t going to make my eyesight better again, so I just have to grit my teeth, plan accordingly, and just keep going.”

“Fair enough.”

You follow Pantalone around a corner. “Besides, I can still see. I can’t see well, but I can see things.”

“What do you see, anyways? What does it look like for you?”

“Curl your index fingers and thumbs until they make two small holes, and then look through them. That’s pretty much it.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It certainly is.”

“Oh, here we are,” Pantalone says. He takes a step to the right and immediately disappears from sight. You turn to follow him–

Thunk! “Ow, fuck, shit.”

You hear Pantalone snort before he turns his laugh into a cough. “Are you alright?”

You rub your forehead. “It’s not the first door frame I’ve walked into, and it won’t be the last.”

“That was quite loud. Here, let me see…”

When you feel slim, calloused yet smooth fingers take hold of each side of your face, you immediately forget about walking into the door frame. He gently tilts your head up, and now all you can see is his face, and at this proximity you only see his face. He does not seem overly concerned, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. You nervously gulp, face growing hot. You’ve never had anyone this close to you, touching your face so tenderly, let alone another man. Not a man with striking eyes, with scarred, soft hands. Not a man who smells of black tea and leather scented cologne with notes of something floral.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, for the briefest of glances, and then Pantalone pulls back with a cheery expression. “You have a slight mark,” he tells you, “but nothing that should bruise.”

You imagine you look incredibly and obviously flustered, and your brain is still reeling at the lingering feeling of his hands on your face. You somehow pull yourself together and clear your throat with the elegance of a brick crashing through a window. “O-Oh, good, that’s good.”

“With that out of the way,” he continues, “this is the library.”

Pantalone steps aside to let you properly step inside. Your head is on a slow swivel, taking in the magnitude of the room. It’s magnificent, truly. Walls with bookshelves packed full of books from the tall ceiling to the hardwood floor. In one corner of the room, you spy a liquor cabinet. There’s also a fireplace glowing red and gold with flames, and two armchairs with an accompanying end table, arranged symmetrically a comfortable distance away from the fireplace.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

You’re speechless, in utter awe of the room you’re standing in. You step further into the room, marvelling at the sheer amount of books. It makes the “private library” your parents have at home look absolutely pitiful.

You hear Pantalone walk off. “Could I get you anything to drink? It’s a tad early for it, but I think we earned it for surviving that whole encounter.”

“Um… Oh, n-no, I’m okay for now,” you reply, still awestruck. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Enchanted?”

“Yes, thank you.” You turn to the direction his voice came from, and after a couple seconds of looking, you find him looking through his collection. He perks up when you speak. “How many of these books have you read?”

“All of them.”

You laugh. “Really? All of them?”

“A vast majority, at least,” he clarifies, “do you not believe me?”

“Would you be hurt if I said not really?”

“Absolutely shattered,” he teases, “I don’t think I would ever recover from the lies and slander.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, fine, I believe you.”

“Splendid.” He shuts the cabinet and gestures to the shelves. “You’re free to browse or take a seat. Dinner won’t be ready for hours, so if there’s anything you want to know or do, feel free to ask.”

“I don’t even know where I’d start…”

“I admittedly don’t read much romance,” Pantalone says, pointing to a shelf somewhere behind you, “but I believe I own some of the classics, and a few others.”

“Are any of them books I’ve written?”

“Not yet.”

“I figured as…” You blink. “Wait, not yet?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t aware of your work when I first met your father,” he explains, “in fact, the night I walked into your office was the same night I learned you were an author. I’ve since then heard good things about your writing, yet I couldn’t decide which book of yours I should read first, so I’m waiting for, what was it called again, Plucking Heartstrings?”

You feel your eyes widen and your face flush. “You… You want to read my new book?”

Pantalone gives you an odd look. “Yes? Did you think I sent the manuscript off simply because I felt like it?”

“You gave me this whole speech about using it to gain my trust and make my mother lower her guard, or something along those lines.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It wasn’t my only motive, and that was before today’s debacle. The point is I’m intrigued by your book.”

You feel your face grow warmer. “You are?”

“You ask that like I’ve said something unbelievable,” Pantalone remarks. “Honestly, I think most people would be naturally curious if someone they knew was related to an author, or an artist, or a musician. What little I’ve read of your draft, the fact it was accepted by the Yae Publishing House, and all this chatter and fuss about how this book is different and how you’d rather write books like this implies this is no low brow, poorly written smut or cliché riddled fairytale.”

“Well, it’s just…” You sigh. “If people saw you read it, they might think you’re gay.”

Pantalone’s laugh is especially loud, given the two of you are standing in the middle of a library. “I hardly see why that matters. I’m the richest man in the world and a Fatui Harbinger. My sexuality would hardly affect how the people already perceive me. Besides, I doubt me reading a book about two men is any more queer than you writing it. Hell, they’d probably assume the same things about either of us if it was a man and woman.”

“I… guess you have a point.”

Pantalone motions to the armchair closest to you, inviting you to take a seat. You do, and he does as well. The chair is rather comfortable, and you settle in nicely.

“That actually brings me to something I’ve been meaning to ask, but was unsure how or when to bring it up.”

This can only be bad. “Alright.”

Pantalone crosses one leg over the other in his seat. “Aren’t you worried about your family, well, figuring it out when the book releases?” he asks. “I know you said your father won’t read your books, but I imagine the basic premise will make it back to him at some point, and I know your mother is going to read it.”

You feel a twinge in your stomach and an ache in your chest. Truth be told, that’s part of the reason it’s taken you so long to get the story out. You’ve spent nearly four years slowly poking and prodding at the idea before finally dedicating yourself to it because you feared what your family may think, both of the book and of you.

You think the look on your face conveys your worries, as Pantalone shakes his head. “You don’t have to answer, my apologies.”

“I-I had a whole plan,” you tell him, “for when this book released, because I know this will be seen as me coming out by everyone who knows me or reads my books.”

“Which was?”

“I wasn’t going to be in Snezhnaya when it was finally published.”

Pantalone quirks an eyebrow.

You continue. “I love my home here, but it’s just… with how my condition works, it’s a bit of a nightmare sometimes. The constant storms mean there’s not as much sunlight during the day and night seemingly falls faster. It messes with my night blindness. I’ve been saving up so I can move to Liyue, so I can actually go outside and enjoy some sunlight.” You shift in your seat. “I, um, also want to have a proper garden. I know I’m inevitably going to go fully blind, so I want to have something pretty to look at in my memories, and so I can at least enjoy the smell of flowers when I can’t see them anymore.”

At the mention of Liyue and flowers, Pantalone seems to immediately snap to attention. He appeared to be listening intently, but that really caught his attention. “Is that so?”

You nod. “That’s, um, mostly fantasy. It’s been hard saving up. I do have an inheritance from my late grandfather that was supposed to go to an Akademya education or buying my own home, but I also have to account for travel expenses actually moving to Liyue, getting items shipped over and then buying new furniture, buying my own food, and I’m paying for my doctors appointments and treatments to keep myself from going blind faster. As much as I love writing, I’m not at a point where I can actually live off of it.”

“You know, if you need assistance or advice, you can ask me.”

“I appreciate it,” you tell him, “but I shouldn’t trouble you.”

Pantalone lips suddenly curl into a smile. He leans forward in his seat, intertwining his fingers together. “You do realize who you’re talking to, don’t you?”

You look at him oddly, and then you remember Pantalone is literally a banker, and laugh. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I am serious, though,” Pantalone states, “if you’re struggling to come up with a financial plan that fits your budget, that is a service we provide at the bank. If you want me to help you, though, you’re going to have to book an appointment ahead of time.”

You snicker. “Why not now?”

“Just because I like you doesn’t mean I’m going to give you special treatment on my day off,” he teases.

You shrug. “Worth a shot.”

The conversation lulls. You hear the soft crackling of the fire, and find yourself looking around at the shelves again. Obviously at this distance you can’t see what they are, but you’re still very impressed by the collection.

After another moment of quiet, Pantalone speaks up again. “So, why did you start writing?”

You clear your throat and look back at him. “I loved to read as a child,” you say, “I only had a few friends growing up, not including my siblings, so I spent most of my free time just reading. As I grew older, it grew into an interest in writing.”

Pantalone nods along. “Now, may I ask why romance?”

“I just like romance,” you tell him, “it’s cheesy, I know, but I enjoy stories about falling in love and finding your soulmate. My family would tease me about how they’re more for girls, so I would hide them in the dust covers of other books.”

“Like your reference material?”

You groan. “Yes, like my reference material. It is actual reference material, by the way, b-but I doubt you would believe me regardless.”

“Will it make it into your book?” Pantalone asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“No, it won’t,” you answer, “I spent so long trying to figure out how the hell to even write it that it stopped being appealing, so instead it just fades to black. Let the audience decide what happens and it’ll probably be better than whatever I was trying to do.”

Pantalone smiles.

You sigh. “Anyways, part of the reason I wanted to write romance is that after a few years of reading about blushing maidens and their prince charmings, I realized two things.”

“Which were?”

“Well, one, that I like men.”

Pantalone laughs.

“And two… I couldn’t find any books that were actually tailored for men like me. Nothing that wasn’t egregiously explicit or horribly distasteful, anyways. I figured if I can’t find anything to read, then maybe I should be the one to write it.”

You watch Pantalone’s expression change slowly with every word you speak. He stops looking so amused by your joke, actually taking your thoughts in. His eyes soften, as does his smile, and in the glow of the fireplace, the way he looks at you is so… warm.

“That’s really a lovely mentality,” he says softly, not a hint of condescension in his voice. “I’m sure someone out there will greatly appreciate it, and I’m hopeful that it will be a success.”

Your stomach flutters, and you hear and feel your heartbeat. You can’t help the smile that twitches onto your lips, that stretches across your face. You tilt your head down slightly so his expression doesn’t distract you. “Thank you. It really does mean a lot to hear that.”

“I mean it.”

You feel your heart in your chest and your throat. Why does he sound so fond when he says it?

A knock on the open door causes you to jump, Fyodor’s voice makes itself known again. “Sir, could I borrow you for a moment? The chef has a question for you.”

Pantalone sighs and stands. He smiles down at you. “One moment, please.”

You nod and watch as Pantalone walks across the library to the door. You hear his heels clack against the floor, growing quieter and quieter until they disappear completely. Soon, you are left in the quiet of the library alone.

You quickly bury your face in your hands as realization hits you at full force.

This isn’t a little crush, and it never was. You want Pantalone.

#pantalone #pantalone x reader #pantalone x male reader #blind reader #my fic #falling head over heels

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hiorintruther · 4 months

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An Updated ‘Reasons Why I Ship Hiorin’ — Because It’s Been Ages Since I Made The First One And I’ve Had More Thoughts (and we got more moments!)

Aka: can you tell this ship makes me mentally unwell?

Hi again! It’s been a while. I did make one of these long posts a while back outlining why I choose to ship hiorin even though they’ve barely interacted and on the surface don’t look like they’d make sense at all. Since then, hiorin has gained quite a few shippers in the fandom and I keep thinking about the ship, especially with the Bastard Munchen vs PXG game FINALLY giving us some new crumbs. Unsurprisingly, ever since making the first post I’ve also had a lot more ideas about the dynamic, its potential, some more connections between them that I never touched on before, etc… and rather than editing the other post I thought it would be easier to just make a new one.

Some stuff I go over here might be familiar from the first post. I want this to be a kind of hub for any and all of my hiorin interpretations, analysis, trivia, headcanons, ‘theories’ (which I don’t think will be canon but the narrative potential for them is through the roof) and anything else I think is relevant to the ship. Feel free to jump around and read whatever is most interesting for you. Hiorin is a ship that, for me, is built on mountains of untapped potential. I just want to bring that potential to light all in one place.

Note: for this post I’ll only use information that has been written by Kaneshiro, drawn by Nomura or Sanomiya, or has otherwise been green-lit by Kaneshiro as canon. Merch collabs, voice actor QnAs, the PWC game etc… for me do not count as canon and I won’t use them. Also, the 10-image limit is biting my ass so my formatting for certain bits might be a bit all over the place. Apologies.

So without further ado. Let’s start! Enjoy the yap sesh!

Part 1 — The Manga Canon

Hiorin get their (very sparse and brief) interactions mostly from the Third Selection Arc (chapters 87-108) and the U20 arc (chapters 109-151). We’re also recently getting some new moments in the BM vs PXG match (chapters 250-present).

First off: the tryouts. It’s implied here that Hiori and Rin have never met, as Hiori notices Isagi’s response to Rin and asks if Isagi knows who Rin is. Rin also doesn’t acknowledge Hiori in any way here, so we can presume they’re strangers (although some shippers like to headcanon that they met during the first selection).

That being said during the match, after Isagi has been thoroughly shut down by Karasu, Rin turns his attention to Hiori as a teammate to help him get the ball up the field. Rin has never seen Hiori play before (as far as we know). They’ve never even talked. They’re barely getting familiar with each other’s play styles. And yet, they immediately link up to form a clean back and forth that optimises Rin’s play style. In fact, this duo helps Rin score 1 goal, and it would have helped Rin score 2 had Shidou not rudely interrupted the second.

It’s so deadly that Otoya has to intervene specifically to break them up, so that they can no longer continue their one-two passes up the field and threaten to go for another goal. (Also notice in this page below how as soon as the kickoff happens, Hiori is already running into position in the background. He understands what Rin wants to do).

Not only did Hiori and Rin naturally form a link-up, but Hiori was also fully capable of keeping up with Rin, something Nanase admitted he struggled with during this match and even Isagi was struggling with as well, since later on we see Isagi fail to intercept one of Hiori’s passes due to not being able to reach it in time (which presumably Rin would have been able to were he in Isagi’s position). So, from what we see of Hiori and Rin in this match, they’re on a similar wavelength in terms of skills, field vision and gameplay, and are naturally able to link up even as strangers. I’ll note here that neither of them were playing at full power — Hiori was playing on 0 motivation, and Rin was still utilising his Puppeteer play style instead of his Destroyer. More on this later in the ‘Headcanons’ section.

After the Tryouts, we next see them interact in the U20 match. We start with a brief callback to their tryouts link up in chapter 132, where Rin passes to Hiori. Hiori is acting as a relay between Isagi and Rin, which in my opinion would be a good way to utilise him after the NEL. Whether or not that’s how Kaneshiro chooses to use him in the future is anyone’s guess though.

The next big moment comes in chapter 140, after Shidou has kicked Rin in the face and the game has briefly paused. I think this is by far the most ‘iconic’ hiorin moment. While Isagi is analysing the previous play and Karasu is arguing with the ref, Hiori is the only one who actually checks on Rin. Even Bachira and Reo were right next to Rin and neither of them go to him. Hiori was further down the field but he moved to help Rin first. Not only is he gentle with and worried for Rin, but by some miracle Rin actually accepts his help! It feels almost out of character, given how angry Rin is for the rest of the match, but for this very brief moment he lets Hiori help him up and reassures him that he’s ‘fine’ (yeah sure buddy…).

For many this is the main ‘ooooooh’ moment with hiorin. But what if I told you it actually happens a second time this match? After Aiku goes rogue in chapter 142 and tries to score a goal, Rin ends up slide-tackling him to prevent it. And once again, if you look in the background of the panels following the interception in chapter 143, who is it helping Rin stand? It’s Hiori. And this time they actually hold hands!

The final hiorin moment in the U20 match comes soon after this in chapter 144, when Rin is about to enter his Destroyer mode. When Rin enters Destroyer mode, Hiori is in possession of the ball and so Rin steals it from him in a completely unpredictable move that had everyone stunned.

The U20 match moments, for many of us hiorin shippers, felt like the last time we’d ever see them properly interact. I at least had zero hopes for PXG. But oh boy was I wrong! Kaneshiro might not realise the dynamic he’s setting up with this duo but I’m gonna milk every interaction for what they’re worth! And so with that, I’ll bring you to the BM vs PXG match (note: currently still ongoing, so I’ll update this section as we get more moments). Since the U20 match, we’ve had some changes. The biggest one is Hiori’s personality. After going through his arc in Ubers, Hiori has become more outspoken and confident, playing into his ‘Ultra-Sadist’ style and being more than happy to speak his mind. He’s more argumentative and can whip up a good piece of trash talk (my gamer boy fr!). We see this on full display in chapter 251 when he completely shuts down Rin’s goal opportunity because Rin was too focussed on Isagi to see the bigger picture of the match. Hiori turns around, points at Rin, and tells him “if ya want a goal… come at me with an unpredictable script!”

Notice here how he isn’t simply putting Rin down for not being able to score. Hiori may be taunting Rin, perhaps getting over-confident, but he does still technically give Rin helpful advice. In a previous panel he explains how he was able to read Rin because Rin was too focussed on Isagi, and in combination with Hiori’s ‘unpredictable script’ line it forms some rather blunt and rude but nevertheless useful advice. Hiori is telling Rin exactly how to get past him and what Rin needs to do to improve. Notice the focus on unpredictability. I personally think this is a line foreshadowing Rin’s Destroyer mode, even if Hiori himself is unaware of it. Even if it’s not foreshadowing, Hiori’s advice is reasonable and Rin should listen to it.

The next moment we have of them together is from chapter 259, where Hiori is aided by Raichi to block Rin in a 2-person press, causing Rin to lose the ball. From a purely indulgent, shipping perspective, notice how Hiori’s and Rin’s legs are touching, their hands are on each other’s chests and they’re looking at each other. Raichi is just there lol.

Next we have chapter 270, where Rin has started to awaken his Destroyer and is barrelling his way through BM’s various players. Hiori is one of the players Rin gets past with ease. Rin gets past him with a rainbow flick, to which Hiori acknowledges Rin awakening by saying ‘he is good’. Note here that he is the only player on BM’s side to get actual dialogue in response to Rin overpowering them.

And as of right now, the latest interaction comes from chapter 273. Rin has entered Destroyer mode and has completely overwhelmed Hiori. Isagi actually says in this chapter that Rin has become someone he can’t analyse, a completely unreadable beast of a player. I think this means the ‘unpredictable script’ Hiori spoke of truly is the Destroyer, and Rin has finally been able to get past Hiori with it.

This may be it for their canon interactions, however it’s far from all the canon information we have about them that’s interesting for the dynamic. A big part of the hiorin ship is about looking at their individual information and drawing together similarities and/or parallels. While on the surface they seem very different, almost opposites, digging a little deeper reveals a lot of small coincidences about them that build up to make you realise that they’re a lot more similar than you might initially think.

Part 2 — Where Hiori and Rin Align

Analytical players. Both of them are capable of deeply analytical play styles that utilises field vision and high levels of technical skills. This way of playing doesn’t rely on brute strength or pure intimidation to get through the opponents’ defence, rather analysis, playing with and overcoming their opponents with strategy and out-playing their opponents with sheer levels of skill. This similarity is likely what led to them to be able to so easily link up when they first met. Rin is however also capable of being the Destroyer, which leads me to my second point below.

Sadism. Both are known sadists. Rin’s Destroyer mode is particularly sadistic, aiming to destroy in every way to the point where he will give up goal opportunities to destroy even more. In general, he revels in being at the top, destroying others under him. He’s open with his insults and destroys chaotically, looking for breaks in his opponents’ defence and completely tearing them down until there’s no hope of his opponents winning. Meanwhile Hiori is a self-proclaimed “ultra-sadist”. After his arc, he enjoys watching his opponents scramble to try and keep up with him only to be destroyed by his top-tier plays, especially in a ‘best play’ scenario with his chosen striker of the moment. He’s also not loyal to any one striker and will leave them behind if they’re not playing up to his standards or goal vision. Hiori’s sadism also manifests as him teasing his friends, as we see in chapter 241 when he jokingly teases Isagi for getting shipped with Kaiser by BLTV fans.

Sae connections. Rin’s connections to Sae are obvious, since they’re brothers and Sae is the cornerstone of Rin’s character arc. Hiori also has connections to Sae though. He’s been compared to Sae twice in-universe, once by Sendou in chapter 129 who said his passes had the same level of skill as Sae’s, and once by Yukimiya in chapter 241 who thinks Hiori’s ultra-sadist mindset is similar to Sae’s.

Replacements. In Rin’s light novel, he tells Sae that once Sae is gone, he’ll “find a replacement”. In chapter 239, Hiori tells Isagi that he won’t just be loyal to Isagi and will happily replace him with another striker should they be in a better position for Hiori’s vision.

They’re both gamers. Obviously we know Hiori is one. That’s been a big part of his character ever since we first met him. However, Rin also plays video games, specifically horror games. We get this info from both the Egoist Bible and his prequel light novel, where it explains that he plays horror games to de-stress at night: (chapter 2) “… even games, should be chilling and scary. Playing horror games alone at night is quite thrilling”.

Horror, gore and zombies. As well as playing horror games to de-stress, it’s explained in the Egoist Bible and Rin’s light novel that he watches horror movies for the same reason: (chapter 2) “When he’s done, he watches a horror movie and then goes to bed. This is his daily routine. For some reason, since Sae has been gone, he only watches horror movies. Movies, videos …”. The light novel slightly expands on this to specify that he enjoys splatter films, as well as showing an illustration of him watching rather a gory zombie movie: (chapter 4) “Lately, he's been into splatter films. The one where a killer comes out with an electric saw and a big-ass ax, then blood splatters all over the place. The one where a killer chases you no matter how hard you try to escape, and if you get caught, you end up being dismembered. His heart is pounding, but he’s not the type to show on his face, so Rin watching the slaughter scene without any expression on his face is much more horrifying”. Likewise, Hiori is shown in chapter 206 playing a zombie shooter in which he imagines the zombies becoming his parents and he violently kills them. We see his inner monologue of this in his prequel light novel, showing the depths of how much he wants them to suffer: (chapter 6) “Before he knew it, in his imagination, his parents became zombies. His father and mother are coming towards him, laughing. He shoots without hesitation. Bang! Headshot. The bullet that entered the father's jaw blew off the back of his head. Bang! Bang! His mother's eyeballs pop out and there's a hole in her chest. He aims for vital spots with rapid fire, but they don't fall easily because they're zombies”.

Solitude. Rin is ranked as the most anti-social member of Blue Lock in the Egoist Bible. He says he “doesn’t have time for lukewarm conversations” (although I do think on some level he longs for approval and love from someone, given how much he craves his brother’s attention). He is also one of the only characters who genuinely has no friends in Blue Lock. He tolerated Bachira for a time and trained Nanase begrudgingly, but no one is very close with him at all. Now, at a glance Hiori might seem far more social. He has a lot of friends and seems to enjoy hanging out with them. However, in a Twitter QnA (which tend to have questions compiled for the Egoist Bible or character profiles, but alas Hiori doesn’t have one compiled yet) it was revealed that his ideal type in a romantic partner is “someone who can leave me alone”. The wording he used — 放置し合えるん — seems to imply a reciprocal nature of this ‘leaving alone’, ie ‘you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone’. Now tell me that arrangement wouldn’t work perfectly for Rin? Hiori is also shown in chapter 172 (which is before his character arc) spending time alone in the BM dorms while the others are out training. While Hiori can enjoy socialising, he also needs plenty of time to himself to the point where it becomes a deal-breaker in a relationship for him.

Ochazuke (tea on rice). Rin’s favourite food according to the Egoist Bible is ochazuke, specifically taichazuke. In the Episode Rin extra chapter we see him going to enjoy some taichazuke at a traditional restaurant because he was hungry for ochazuke. When Hiori was asked in another Twitter QnA what his favourite accompaniment for rice is, he replied that it’s the ochazuke brand Nagatanien.

Stripes. Rin’s casual outfits for both the Shibuya collab (designed by Nomura) and Episode Rin feature a striped/ribbed pattern. Likewise, Hiori’s casual pyjamas, childhood design and one of Nomura’s coaster designs feature him wearing striped clothing.

Eyelashes. Both of them have long under-lashes. That’s kinda it for this one lol.

Water connections. Hiori’s favourite season is the rainy season and he has been referred to as ‘water coloured’ in the manga due to his hair colour (it means ‘cyan’ in Japanese — see point 12). Rin’s aura is water and he is regularly connected to the sea in his hometown of Kamakura.

Name kanji (yes, I’m in this deep). In Rin’s surname, the kanji 糸 means ‘thread/yarn’. In Hiori’s surname, the kanji 織 means ‘weaver’. Both of them have kanji relating to weaving, likely in relation to both Rin’s Puppeteer play style (and Sae’s insane control of the midfield), and Hiori’s way of ‘weaving’ together a best play through his skills (and his parents ‘weaving’ his life for him rather than letting him control it himself). To get even more conspiracy theorist-y, when Charles meets Hiori he calls Hiori “水色お兄さん” — literally ‘water-coloured big brother’, likely in relation to his hair colour because 水色 can also mean ‘cyan’. To keep it on the topic of water though, whose aura is made of water? That’s right. Rin’s! (yes I know this is really grasping at straws but I did say this post was for EVERYTHING hiorin).

Part 3 — Family Relationships: Love, Expectations and Abandonment

Rin and Hiori both have relationships with particular members of their family that are similar and also unique among the rest of the cast. For Rin, it’s his relationship with Sae. For Hiori, it’s his relationship with his parents.

To begin with Hiori, his parents only wanted a child who could fulfil their dream of being number one in the world at a particular sport. They held this expectation of him throughout his whole life, pretending to genuinely care about and love him when in reality all they wanted was for him to be the best. If he tried to step out of line, they’d become monstrous, as seen in his light novel: (chapter 2) “Can I take a day off from soccer tomorrow and go play with my friends?” As soon as he said this, the smiles disappeared from his parents’ faces. His mother looked very surprised, and then she made the scariest face he's ever seen. “......!” He doesn’t remember what she said. He just remembers that he was scolded terribly. After that, he was hugged tightly. “Hiori, you are born to be the best at soccer.” “You can play with other kids anytime you want.” “But if you don’t do soccer properly from now on, you will never be the best.” His mother was desperate. His father was behind her, looking sadly at Hiori. “Please, Hiori, trust us and play soccer.” Hiori felt that he had done something very wrong. … What should I do? I said something bad. I'm sorry. The air was stifling, as if he had been locked in a room full of needles. He felt like he would get hurt if he moved, so all Hiori could do was nod.” We also see the extent of this in chapter 206, when Hiori overhears his parents threatening to get a divorce if he isn’t the best. This makes him realise that if he doesn’t fulfil their expectations, his parents don’t want him. In essence, they would abandon him, letting their family fall apart and blaming it all on him.

With Rin, it’s a bit more complicated. His relationship with his older brother Sae is still pretty up in the air as to what really happened from Sae’s perspective. We need to distinguish between what actually happened (which is difficult to determine as of right now) and what Rin interpreted as happening. From his perspective, he has a moment in chapter 125 where he thinks Sae pretended to love him while they were growing up, only using him as a stepping stone to get to the world stage. After that had been achieved, Rin presumes was abandoned. This is unlikely true though (even if it’s tricky to discern for now). This is where I cry on deaf ears for a Sae light novel or spin-off chapter, anything to get his side of the story. My current PERSONAL interpretation of canon is that Sae still loves Rin, however he knows that Rin’s desire to be the world’s best as a duo is impossible, and his way of trying to ween Rin off such a dream was to sever their relationship, he just went about it in perhaps the worst way possible. No matter what really happened though, I’m more interested in what Rin interpreted from being abandoned, which is a mix of hatred and confusion but also still a desire for recognition.

This to me reads as very similar to what Hiori’s relationship with his parents used to be before his arc. Hiori hated his parents. He wished death upon them. And yet, despite that he kept fighting for what they wanted, fulfilling their expectations because he was so afraid that if he didn’t, all the blame would be placed on him for their family falling apart. Rin’s situation is sort of a dark mirror to Hiori’s, where instead of just fearing that abandonment, Rin was abandoned, with all the blame being placed on him by Sae. And yet, deep down, he’s still fighting for Sae’s approval again, trying to find any way he can to fulfil Sae’s expectations. We see this in the way Rin chose Isagi to be his rival after the U20 match not because of anything in particular that Isagi has done, but because Sae acknowledged Isagi. We see Rin’s desire for love in the way he travelled to Tokyo in the Episode Rin extra chapter to possibly watch Sae’s match, even though they’d already fallen out by that point. Even as recently as chapter 273, where Rin gives up a goal opportunity because, to him, Sae wouldn’t approve of it.

Rin and Hiori both strove for love from their families, it’s just that Hiori has now managed to break free from this mindset and fight only for himself, meanwhile Rin is still clinging to the memory of Sae no matter how much he wants to crush Sae for abandoning him. This complicated relationship with love, expectation and abandonment is what draws me to a lot of hiorin’s potential. They both exist at different points along a trajectory of breaking free from their families’ expectations, with Hiori having decided to not try to appease his family anymore meanwhile Rin is still chasing after Sae, perhaps fruitlessly.

Part 4 — Headcanons Part 1: The Hiorin Potential For A Joint Arc (which yes I know won’t happen. Let me dream)

Anything from this point on is pure headcanon, taking into account all the canon information listed in the previous sections. This is NOT ‘speculation’. I genuinely don’t think any of this will be canon or else Kaneshiro would have started calling attention to it by now in the main manga. Kaneshiro hasn’t consciously laid the groundwork for Rin and Hiori to have a joint arc together, he has done so by accident and all the pieces are in place.

The bulk of this section revolves around Rin’s Destroyer mode and Hiori’s ultra-sadism and ‘producer’ epithet, as well as the ‘best-play’ scenario theorised by Isagi and Hiori in the early PXG chapters. Basically, I think that a ‘best-play’ chemical reaction between Ultra-Sadist Producer Hiori and Destroyer Rin would be both broken as fuck and would be a great way to showcase Rin’s character development as he learns to balance the Destroyer with his desire to crush Sae.

In Rin’s light novel, we learn that as a child playing alongside Sae as a duo, Rin didn’t have the Puppeteer play style he’s known for in the main series. Instead, he was fully zoned in on himself and the game, moving on instinct, looking for the perfect spot to break through the enemy’s defence, trusting fully that he would receive Sae’s passes (chapter 1): ‘“Rin, what are you thinking about when you play soccer?” Rin scored two goals in today’s match. Meanwhile, Sae scored three points with a hat trick. His Nii-chan is great after all. “Hm? Nothing. I guess it's just about goals. I just run to the bad area and then Nii-chan passes to me.” “What do you mean by bad area?” Sae asks, while playing with the stick in his mouth. “Hm. The area where the enemy panics and falls through.” The area the enemy falls through. Sae let his younger brother's words quietly seep into his mind. “You rely too much on your intuition, you know.” “But Nii-chan always passes to me, so why not? Nobody else is good enough for me.” That’s why it’s okay to move on impulse without thinking. “......What will you do when I’m not around?” “I don’t know but, I guess I’ll look for a replacement.” Rin says nonchalantly.’

This method of running ‘to the area where the enemy panics and falls through’ seems to be alluding to Rin’s Destroyer mode — the version of Rin we see in the final moments of the U20 match after he loses control and goes on a destructive rampage. Indeed, in chapter 152 we also see Rin wondering what this side of him is truly capable of and how he wants to try harnessing it more, but he still only wants to use it to destroy Isagi and Sae rather than playing for himself. His Puppeteer is not his original play style, instead it’s one he developed after Sae left in order to appease his teammates and to be a able to carry his team to victory by himself (chapter 3); ‘Even in a high-level club team, no one could handle Rin’s moves’, (chapter 4): ‘Without Sae's passes, he can't play the way he wants to play’, (chapter 5): ‘Rin erases his best image and then captures the whole picture. In his head, he sees the movements of all the players, as if filmed from a drone’, (chapter 5): ‘No one understands Rin's frustration. But they can win, so that's fine. It's as if there are marionette strings attached to his teammates, controlling and moving the team…… That is Rin's new weapon. It is a play that can only be made with Rin's combination of technical, physical, and tactical skills. It has also led him to bring out the best in his teammates’. It was only in the U20 match that the Destroyer was able to come out again after it had been sealed away for so long. It was a completely different way of playing that was more primal and natural for Rin but less controlled and more clumsy due to his lack of practice using it. Still, its pure destructive power was insane enough to almost score.

In the current chapters of the manga, we know that Rin has gotten a certain better grasp of his more destructive side since the start of the NEL. In chapter 239 (immediately after Hiori says he’ll happily drop Isagi for someone else should they come along, mind you) we see Rin utilising a very destructive play style against Nagi in the PXG vs MC match. Clearly he has been trying to improve this side of himself since first letting it loose again during the U20 match. However, clearly what we’ve seen of this destructive style up until chapter 268 was not the complete Destroyer, as Rin himself says in chapter 269 that something was missing from his improvement throughout the NEL. And so, we’re only now seeing the Destroyer properly again in the later part of the BM vs PXG match. Furthermore, it seems as though Rin might be a ‘restrictive’ player, given that the Destroyer comes out when he’s bottle-necked into a tense situation caused by Isagi limiting his options.

Now, undoubtably we’re seeing the Destroyer in full action, and very recently we’ve seen it absolutely decimate Hiori. This is a good thing, in my opinion, and I’d been hoping to see this outcome since chapter 251 when Hiori said his ‘unpredictable script’ line. Since Hiori flat out told Rin to come at him with ‘an unpredictable script’, the Destroyer can be the ‘unpredictable script’ that blows Hiori away. And I personally think that this should catch Hiori’s attention. Remember, his resolve in chapter 239 is to produce the greatest striker, and his ultra-sadism means he’s more than happy to drop Isagi for someone he thinks is better. So, no matter what the outcome of the BM vs PXG match is, I think Rin’s Destroyer should pique Hiori’s interest as a potential best striker candidate. This is especially so when you remember that Hiori has technically already experienced Rin’s Destroyer first hand in the U20 match, when Rin stole the ball from Hiori (interesting side note here: Hiori’s immediate thoughts before the ball was stolen from him were him having to choose who he should pass to, Barou or Nagi. He thought ‘which one of you?’ but didn’t pass, in my eyes because he couldn’t envision the play working with either of them, and then immediately Rin stole the ball. Rin unknowingly answered the question Hiori was asking in those crucial seconds).

In the next arc (a U20 World Cup training mini-arc I’d presume), I’d have Hiori and Rin slowly start to interact. I think Hiori’s ultra-sadism would be incredibly useful in helping draw the Destroyer out of Rin because Hiori only passes to the best spot on the field. He doesn’t alter his level of play for the sake of his striker. So, if Rin is not in a mindset where he can bring about his Destroyer, then his plays become affected and Hiori simply won’t pass to him. And if Hiori were trying to link up with a specific striker, he would likely pass to Isagi instead. This creates a bottle-neck where Rin has to evolve his mindset, discarding the Puppeteer (which is still useful in some cases, but not here) and instead fully embracing the Destroyer. If he can get into that mindset, only focussing on himself, zoning in on just the goal ahead and causing as much chaos as possible, he is guaranteed to be rewarded by receiving Hiori’s perfect pass to the ideal spot where the enemy ‘breaks’. It mirrors how Sae used to pass to him in their childhood (remembering Hiori has been compared to Sae in terms of both skill and mindset), except now Rin isn’t thinking that he’s part of a permanent duo, rather he alone is the star and he can trust his midfielder to aid him and match goal-visions without the need for the Puppeteer.

The key word here is trust. Rin and Hiori would have to develop a level of trust. Hiori has to trust that Rin will embody the Destroyer, and Rin has to trust that Hiori will side with him. It’s why Hiori has currently been able to work so well with Isagi. Their goal visions aligned and they placed the utmost trust in each other to perform at their individual bests, thus leading to Isagi scoring successful goals. For me, if Rin could also reach this state, it would be a showcase of the culmination of his development as he breaks free of Sae and learns how to play fully for himself. It would simultaneously be a return to his childhood, where he was able to freely utilise a Destroyer-like style without worrying about the rest of the team, while also showing his evolution because he no longer places that trust onto just Sae ‘because it’s Nii-chan’. When Rin trusts in Hiori, it wouldn’t be because ‘it’s Hiori’, rather it would be Rin fully focussing purely on his own plays and simply allowing the ball to land in the ideal spot at his feet. It’s a completely sadistic, self-serving mindset, just like Hiori’s is from a midfielder’s perspective. Hiori’s ultra-sadism means he likely can’t be controlled by Rin’s Puppeteer style, since he plays for himself fully. He’d only let Rin control him if their visions aligned. Therefore in order to successfully earn Hiori’s passes, Rin would need to fully embrace the Destroyer, abandon anything clouding his potential, and throw himself fully into goal-scoring. Hiori can’t be controlled but he’s reliable and can be trusted. I do think the road to building this trust should have its ups and downs. Let Rin get frustrated at Hiori not being controllable. Let Hiori want to see Rin improve while also not bending to Rin’s will. Let Hiori refuse to work with Rin sometimes. All of it would be part of a gradual, arc-spanning development for Rin that doesn’t take place in a single chapter.

In my personal opinion, having Hiori specifically be the midfielder who helps Rin most would be more narratively satisfying someone like Nanase (no hate to Nanase or nanarin tho. Love them 🫶). While Nanase works as a nice support for Rin especially at the moment in PXG, plus his sunshine personality might help Rin relax and open up more over time, his skill level isn’t quite up to scratch for Rin’s highest-level plays. Nanase’s passes are useful with his ambidexterity but they aren’t clean. They aren’t as reliable. Rin still has to pay attention to Nanase in order to guarantee a successful play. He can’t block out literally everything else to hyper-focus on goal-scoring in this state. And as we’ve seen several times during PXG, the Rin-Nanase link-up has been easily thwarted by characters like Isagi and Hiori, such as in chapter 268 when their two-person press costs Nanase the ball. Hiori on the other hand provides that high level of play (he can win 3v1s and pass through tight openings with ease) which means Rin can afford to essentially forget Hiori even exists — the ball will still find its way to him. They wouldn’t even have to look at each other (much like the Isagi x Hiori best play we saw in Ubers that was recently sort of recreated in PXG).

There is also the thematic element that Hiori has been compared to Sae before, setting him up as a Sae parallel which I think could be utilised in Rin’s evolution. Placing trust in Hiori would show that Rin is finally able to detach his reason to play from Sae and he can stop striving so strongly for Sae to notice him. This plays into the shared relationship Hiori and Rin both have with expectations, love and abandonment. It could arguably help them get on each others wavelength and understand exactly what they want from a play and how best to execute a strategy they haven’t even discussed beforehand. On top of all this, it means Hiori would be the one to help ‘produce’ Rin since Hiori has already gone through the mental baggage of his arc and would understand Rin’s mental blocks.

Still, I do not think that canonically Rin and Hiori will interact much, if at all, and if they do Hiori will likely side with Isagi over Rin. Rin’s development will likely come from a combination of continuing to battle against Isagi, confronting Sae and having a lot of internal monologues. Meanwhile, Hiori will continue to improve alongside Isagi as a plot device who can be pulled out at convenient moments, while occasionally passing to other strikers for dramatic flair (I don’t really like this after Hiori’s resolve so strongly telegraphed that he’d very happily drop Isagi without a second thought, but oh well, what can you do?). I doubt Hiori will canonically play into Rin’s development at all.

Still, from the moment Rin and Hiori met in the third selection tryouts, they were able to flawlessly link up without the need for planning or communication. Hiori understood what Rin needed and moved to the perfect spot to work with him. If both of them were in Flow, creating a ‘best-play’ scenario with the Destroyer and the Ultra-Sadist Producer, it would both be a show of incredible skill and high-level play while also showcasing Rin’s personal development and evolution, as well as utilising Hiori as a narrative support in a way that doesn’t impose him too strongly on the main plot but keeps him relevant and active in the story.

Part 5 — Headcanons Part 2: Some Fun Ideas

This section is all about some fun ideas I’ve had about hiorin, mostly trying to use canon as a strong basis so that they make sense. They aren’t things I think will ever be explored in canon but they’re fun to think about nonetheless. These can range from canon-adjacent to domestic AU material, it’s a whole mix really. I’ll probably come back to this bit every now and again to update it with new ideas I have, so keep an eye out for that.

A shared understanding. Since they’re both familiar with what they perceive to be feelings of false love from family members, it creates a situation where they can understand why they act the way they do better than anyone else. I hc that this would help them to more naturally form link-ups on the field, since they’d be in tune with each other’s mental states as well as general play styles. Off-field they’d be able to recognise when something has ticked the other off or resurfaced some unpleasant memories. I don’t think they’d really be ones to talk about their family traumas to each other openly, but they’d have an understanding of the things they do find out and wouldn’t think the other is overreacting, especially Hiori understanding Rin. While I think it’s good that Rin has friends like Nanase who he can be more chilled out with, I personally prefer the idea that his partner is someone who can actually understand the depths of his issues and sit with him in the eye of the storm until it passes, rather than trying to just ‘fix’ him without being able to understand him properly.

Touch-starved and both slow to physical affection. Since they’re both introverted and Rin is emotionally constipated as hell, they aren’t really a couple that would be very into PDA. Not even hand-holding. But it doesn’t really matter for them. They’re both not very used to that sort of physical comfort especially in the presence of others. However, while I think in general Rin might be a bit more reluctant to initiate intimacy than Hiori, I do think he’d still be more inclined to initiate hugs. Why Rin of all people? Because he grew up with a sibling. And he was a younger sibling at that. On some level he would have received attention from Sae while their relationship was still good, even if only a little bit. Hiori on the other hand grew up an only child in a household where hugs and doting were used as a tool to manipulate him. He’d likely not be used to the idea of hugs as a genuine show of affection. But Rin’s hugs are always genuine and often given out sparingly and tentatively, after a lot of hesitation. They’re both slow to physical affection but they’d find a way to navigate their wants and needs together, taking their time.

All-nighter horror dates. Be it playing co-op horror games or binging horror movies in the dark, I think they’d both prefer that as a date night over going out to a restaurant. It’s an activity they can both have fun with as a shared interest, just the two of them, alone at home with no need to even leave the house. They can let themselves get more passionate and competitive (and sadistic) while playing horror games too.

Owl eyes. According to the Egoist Bible, Rin’s favourite animal is owls (a lot of Nomura’s Rin drawings also feature owls, he has a plushie of an owl in chapter 270 and he wears a ‘fukurou’ (owl) bag in the Episode Rin extra chapter). It is also a fandom-wide thing to say that Hiori has giant eyes. While most people compare Hiori’s eyes to bugs, I’d like to offer comparing them to owl eyes — giant, round, staring into your soul maybe a bit too much. Hiori has owl eyes and Rin loves owls, so I headcanon that Rin would love Hiori’s large, curious eyes more than anyone.

Yoga together. While we only have canonical confirmation that Rin both regularly does yoga and is good at it, I hc that Hiori would also be quite good at it due to his parents likely drilling him with intense schedules and being helicopter parents about his health. Yoga would likely fall into it somewhere as a cool-down activity and a good way to exercise on rainy days. While Hiori initially wouldn’t find yoga fun to do with Rin due to his negative associations with it, I feel like over time it could be a nice bonding activity for the two of them. It requires minimal talking if they’re doing their own routines, and as long as Hiori isn’t messing up the moves I think Rin would tolerate the two of them existing in the same space. At the very least, Hiori wouldn’t try to one-up Rin with moves he can’t do and topple onto Rin as a result (looking at you, Isagi…). They wouldn’t do couples yoga though, just their own thing in the same space.

Sharing food. In the Twitter QnAs, it states that Hiori’s favourite food is salt-grilled saury (saury shiyoyaki) “including the bitter bits”. His least favourite food is cotton candy because “it’s just sugar”. Therefore, I hc that he tends to enjoy bitter food while disliking sweet food. In contrast, we know that Rin quite likes sweet food because he used to eat ice cream with Sae on the way home from practice, plus in the Episode Rin extra chapter he enjoys most blanc at a dessert cafe. Because of this difference in tastes, I like to hc Hiori giving any sweet food Blue Lock offers in their meals to Rin. Likewise, if the main meal Rin is given is ever burnt or charred too much for his liking, he gives the charred bits to Hiori since he knows Hiori will eat them so the food won’t be wasted.

Tea and coffee. As an addendum to the previous hc, I think Hiori would be a coffee drinker and Rin would be a tea drinker. This is because coffee tends to be more bitter, especially ones without sugar like espressos, so I can see Hiori preferring them to tea. There’s also the idea that ochazuke is made with tea, which is a bonus for Rin liking tea over coffee.

Cooking. Last food-related one I promise! While Hiori likely has a ton of technical knowledge about nutrition, dieting, calorie counting etc… due to his mother’s frenzied control of his diet growing up, I headcanon that he doesn’t actually have a clue how to cook. Once again, this is because of his parents being overprotective and worrying that he’d injure himself with a kitchen knife or burn himself on the stovetop. So he has zero clue about where to start in the kitchen. On the flip-side, while Rin isn’t the best cook in the world I reckon he’d have somewhat of an idea of how to cook the basics, plus he likely also has knowledge of dieting and nutrition for the sake of his own health. So while they’d both have things to learn in the kitchen, it would be Rin doing more of the actual cooking while Hiori decides what meals to eat to optimise their health and training.

A joint-aura that’s a blizzard — in the event that they ever were to team up on the field, I think that the aura they’d give off together should be a blizzard. It makes sense to me for them to have this because Hiori has ice associations with the kanji 氷 in his surname, which means ‘ice’, and in chapter 239 when he gives his monologue about finding a reason to play, a metaphorical key appears with a snowflake on it to symbolise his newfound resolve. Rin’s connections to snow are less positive though, since it was snowing the day that Sae abandoned him. I think making their joint aura a blizzard could symbolise both Hiori’s ultra-sadist resolve to play, and Rin finally being able to move on from Sae to associate the snow with his sadistic determination. A snowstorm joint-aura would also emphasise the pair of them having a sadistic, destructive take-down of their opponents.

Hiori has a type. His canon type is already ‘someone who will leave me alone’ as I previously discussed in section 2. However, I do like to semi-jokingly say that his type is also ‘dark-haired, analytical guys with an attitude who are really good at football’. Obviously this is meant to refer mostly to Isagi and Karasu (we’ve all seen the heart-eyes you give them, Hiori!), but it is amusing to me that the description also fits Rin perfectly.

Part 6 — Transformative Works I Recommend For New Shippers

These are just some of my favourite fanfics all linked together in one place. I’ll start with a shameless plug of my own fic:

14 Days To NOT Fall In Love (but guess who did anyway)

Summary: This annoyingly mandated break of Ego's was only fourteen days long. That would never be enough time for Rin to fall for this aggravatingly sweet, understanding, level-headed, cyan-haired gamer boy... Okay, maybe he'd need to exercise SOME restraint. Aka: how Rin and Hiori become mutually pining idiots after the U-20 match through a combination of video games, late night discord calls and learning that perhaps they're not all that different after all.

(Chapters: 10 , Word Count: 67088 , Rating: T)

And now for my personal favourites I think new shippers will enjoy, in no particular order (if any of the authors see this and have tumblrs you want me to tag, lmk!):

catch us in the morning by transrightssokka (kellallyourfriends)

Summary: Hiori looks down and brings his hand up to his mouth, hiding a faint smile. “You don’t wanna go home, do you?” “No shit, I don’t,” Rin says. He’d rather sleep on the sidewalk than spend the next two weeks with Sae. Hiori is silent for a minute. His pretty eyes flick to his feet. Up to the back of the seat in front of them. Over to Rin. “So.” “So?” Rin says. Hiori lowers his voice. “So, what if we didn’t?”

(Chapters: 3 , Word Count: 27206 , Rated: M)

Even When It’s Starless by saturnshots

Summary: Everyone’s had an imaginary friend or two — it’s not often they change the course of your life, but who says being imaginary could stop them from bringing your dreams come true?

(Chapters: 1 , Word Count: 2838 , Rating: G)

sine wave by starstruckdove

Summary: Rin discovers Bachira’s “super secret surprise” sooner than he’d thought. There’s a new boy standing next to Ego at practice, and Rin knows he’s new because each of his unfortunate teammates have made their presence (loudly and raucously) known in his life. The boy has a nice face–wide eyes and soft mouth, all rounded corners instead of sharp edges. His hair is a shocking shade of blue and Rin finds it almost familiar. “This is your new manager,” Ego says with about as much energy as a dead battery.

(Chapters: 1 , Word Count: 8990 , Rated: T)

Daydreaming by em_hiorin

Summary: Hiori can’t seem to concentrate during practice, as a certain Itoshi has been plaguing his mind.

(Chapters: 1 , Word Count: 1560 , Rating: G)

My family thinks we’re dating. by akiangelsolos

Summary: “Oh, I see.” His mother hummed, placing her silver fork down on the table. “You must be upset, Hiori hasn’t come over in a while. You have to be lonely without your boyfriend around.” “I’m not lonely-” Rin shot his eyes at his mom, “What did you just say?”

(Chapters: 2 , Word Count: 5486 , Rating: G)

Part 7 — Wow, You Made It This Far? Congratulations And Thank You!

If you’ve made it this far, then I am both immensely thankful and I applaud you. Seriously, thank you for putting up with my insane, delusional brainrot over this silly rarepair that has barely any canon backing to speak of. Hopefully if anything, you now understand why people are starting to take interest in the ship (or at least why I enjoy it). And if you’re a shipper now, welcome to the club! You will now have to watch Hiori and Rin never affect each other’s development, never interact in any meaningful capacity and you’ll be eternally bitter about it 👍. For any aspiring fic writers, I hope this can be a nice hub of info for all of you if you want to consult the hiorin ‘dynamic’ (i say in quotations because let’s face it, I made up like 95% of the dynamic based on analysis and a canon dynamic doesn’t actually exist). Also, bear in mind that in the off chance we do get some more moments, I plan to update this post. So you may end up being subject to even more brainrot in the future.

Until that day comes though, I can only thank you once again. Hiorin is my otp and no matter how much Kaneshiro doesn’t make it come to fruition, he will have to try incredibly hard to make me stop shipping them. The dynamic can change. They can become more and more ‘incompatible’. I don’t care. If hiorin has no shippers, I have passed on from this world.

#blue lock #bllk #hiorin #hiori yo #itoshi rin #blue lock hiori #blue lock rin #FINALLY this post is finished!!!#I’ve been working on it for weeks #it’s mostly for myself ngl #just a nice place to compile all my screaming into one clump #might as well share it with the world yk?#I hope it makes even a modicum of sense to any unsuspecting readers who don’t ship it #rinhio #rnho

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yostresswritinggirl · 2 years

Text

4 𝑆𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑆𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙

; this is my submission for fluffvember by @maehemthemisfit!

; Tighnari x Reader, fluff, romantic

; When Tighnari was gifted a Kamera by the Traveler, after taking a photo of you by accident, decided how he'd put it to good use.

"Hey, you haven't touched your food!"

"I will in a second."

Already at your wit's end to keep your hunger at bay, you finally bit into the delicious pita pocket Collei had packed for your patrol today.

While Tighnari continued to tinker away at the device in his hand as the cuisine next to him sat neglected. It was a gift from the Traveler from their recent trip to Fontaine, an enhanced(?) version of the Kamera that has the ability to both print the captured photo immediately as well as store the image in data form.

Naturally, scholar that he is, the forest watcher had been poking and pinching the device to fully understand it.

He even brought it with you during your patrol together, it capturing his attention even as you sat on one of the picnic tables scattered around the forest to eat your lunch.

... heh, capturing, captured, Kamera. Oh no, Cyno's infected you -

CLICK. And a flash after almost made you drop your food on the table.

"What the heck?" Desperately rubbing the white spots in your vision, you briefly saw a surprised expression pass by Tighnari's face as his attention still stayed on the device.

"My bad, I guess that's what that button does." He seemed content, you can tell just by looking at his tail that wagged enthusiastically behind him so openly. You were about to groan a complaint at him when the sound of gears and grinding caught you both off-guard.

Leaning close, you both watched as the Kamera began sliding out a piece of white paper. And there in all its glory is your face:

Pita pocket held near your chewing mouth as your cheeks were stuffed, your gaze off to the left signifying your preoccupied thoughts beforehand as a breeze gently swept your strands. Despite the impromptu shoot, somehow it turned out really well.

"Ohhh, that's some high quality print." But before you could take the photograph, his deft hands picked and pocketed the thing. Tighnari was already pulling away from the table as he cleaned up the place.

"The film for this is expensive and exported, every print is precious." He watched as you huffed to yourself, gathering your items into your bag as he reminded you that break time is over. Perfectly oblivious to the cheeky smile he dons as he decides how he would use his new toy.

The patrol continued as usual with the occasional small talk, but it relatively stayed in peaceful silence without much to say. His mind was elsewhere, you can tell by how his brows furrowed and his attention fleeting here and there.

His fingers twitched again when you spoke up. "Sooo, why did you bring the Kamera with you?"

"I was thinking of updating the field guide, perhaps a less comprehensive version, a digest with accompanying images."

Tighnari bit back a smile at the sight of you perking up at the idea, watching you copy his movement earlier to inspect the forest floor for any interesting floras to add into the digest. Flowers, flowers is a good start, can't go wrong with them.

You were always so eager to help, your companion shook his head endearingly as you started mumbling local flowers under your breath, completely enamored by the new task.

Patrol soon became a foraging trip as you lead the way with Tighnari following behind, Kamera already in his hand but not yet taking a photo of anything. Instead, he would point at a flower that looked to be the healthiest in the bunch which you would carefully pluck to join the bundle growing in your arms.

Lotuses, Viparyas, Sumeru Rose, Mint, Padisarahs, huh there's not really a lot of flower variations in the Avidya Forest actually.

"I think I got all of the flowers? Well, I added the mint despite not being a flower." Tighnari looked up from the mushroom he was inspecting to see you grinning at him, flowers overflowing in your arms. "You think we should add mushrooms into this -"

"Can you hold that pose for a second?" His eagerness seeped through his request as he raised the device. Even his ears twitched with excitement.

Nodding, you made sure that all the flowers (and mint) could be viewed in the shot. CLICK!

"Nice, did the flowers look good? I thought it would have been better to lay it out instead." You don't see the printed photograph this time as you focused on bunching up the flowers for an easier hold.

"Yeah, the flowers..." Yet when you looked at him, his attention was on the photo again with a soft and satisfied smile.

The patrol was thankfully uneventful after that. Something as engaging as a spinocrocodile or rishboland tiger encounter wouldn't really be good for a fragile Kamera in hand. You wouldn't be much help to Tighnari if you want to maintain the quality of the flowers you gathered either.

Some of the forest rangers already went back to Ghandarva Ville after their respective patrols well into the early evening, making the place livelier than it was that morning.

Stepping up to the platform, you were pleasantly surprised to see a familiar figure sitting under a lantern outside.

"Ah, Master Tighnari, (Y/N)! Welcome back from your patrol!"

"Why are you out here?" Placing your haul on the table, you took a seat next to Collei while the Forest Watcher sat across. "Studying?"

"Yeah, I can't quite grasp some of the concepts still so I thought a change of scenery would help." Leaning over as Collei tapped her pencil on her notes, Tighnari leaned his cheek to his palm, watching the two of you talk animatedly about the topic at hand.

"Oh, I remember this! Tighnari LOVES to make this topic difficult in his tests," the man in question scoffs and rolls his eyes. "But if you look at it this way -"

Eager to get some help, Collei passed the pencil to your awaiting hand as you started writing a new section in her notes. The way the trainee forest ranger presses against your side to get a closer look, how you make eye contact when emphasizing an important note to which Collei earnestly nods to, when you smile when you sense her progress -

CLICK. The both of you looked up from the study session with wide eyes, just in time to see Tighnari lower the Kamera with a smile.

Shaking your head, you kicked his foot under the table gently. "Precious print, my ass."

"A section highlighting the forest ranger's mentoring capabilities could be good." Was his immediate response, which you scoffed at with an easygoing smile.

"Don't worry about it, Collei." Your attention shifts to the younger female to ease her confusion on the matter. "He's just being a goof. Where were we? Right, so..."

The next day started beautifully for the Chief Officer, happier than when he finished his research, happier than when he ate his favorite mushroom.

How could he not be extra enthusiastic of the day when it started with him looking at the pictures he had taken, now tucked neatly on his table for later perusal. It looked better seeing it under the natural lighting of the morning, almost as if the image sparkles.

And when he saw you waving at him first thing in the morning, the day just got significantly better.

"Good morning, Master Tighnari." His eyes followed the hand that cards through your nicely dried hair. "Oh, you're taking more pictures today?"

"Yes." Eyes flickering between your form and the Kamera in his hand, a bright idea popped in his head. "Actually, can you stand there for a second?"

Confused but compliant, you watched as Tighnari placed the Kamera on a tree stump nearby, adjusting the angle and distance as he looked at you through the lens.

And when he was seemingly satisfied, he left the device there to join you where he left you.

Before you could ask, his lean arm snakes around your waist securely. "I found out that there was a timer option." That wasn't the question in your mind anymore tho!!

It wasn't until he started leaning forward did you finally realize his intention, hand grasping at his sleeves as the feeling of his warm breathe tickles your waiting lips. Your eyes closed with the distance, the gentleness reminiscent of a good morning kiss.

Just as soft as the flower petals you plucked yesterday, as filling as an afternoon meal, as sweet as the happiness of being with him —

CLICK! Your eyes flew open at the sudden flash.

Oh, that sneaky fox! But before you could comment on it, Tighnari leaned over to chase another kiss, his triumphant smirk melding with your lips.

@maehemthemisfit @sonder-paradise @96jnie @komiyaa @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss @scarasbaby @1eaf-me-alone @ireallylikehamsters

#fluffvember 2022 #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tighnari x reader #exile.flower #sumeru arc #gender neutral #genshin impact fluff #oh wow fluff who would have thought #sorry im not good with fluff aaaaaaaaaa #fluffvember event #fluffvember

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friskyrisk · 2 months

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[BIG BOY POST + I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING DON'T LISTEN TO ME] I have to preface this with a HUGEEE disclaimer that an unhealthy workplace is never acceptable, and that the culture of a company being shit is almost *always* the fault and neglect of leadership. That out of the way, as an avid pm fan its impossible to avoid the conversations that have been occurring about PM as a company, and after Ji-Hoon Kim's live stream, these conversations sort of converged on his role in the company and his lack of aptitude as CEO. Second disclaimer, I'm not here to glaze Ji-Hoon as an unassailable god, I think its clear to anyone keeping an eye on whats been happening that he's very suspectable to shitty mistakes. But what's bothered me, and the whole point of this post I guess, is the tone of some of the criticism addressed to him. People have sort of defaulted to the way they talk about every other irresponsible or greedy CEO when talking about him, but I think that misses a lot of important context that's vital to understanding why these things keep happening. Ji-Hoon did not go to university for business communications, or entrepreneurship, or any other fields related to heading a company. Ji-Hoon attended Ajou University for 4 years as a *game developer*, and as a scenario writer for all three PM games, he seemed to have a passion for writing as well. That is to say, Ji-Hoon Kim is an artist. Being a game director and writer are both creative positions, and from my research, he seems to have no prior experience in any other fields. The reason why this distinction is so important is because a lot of the discussion has been directed at PM's treatment of its artists, rightfully so, but its also been tinged by the preconception of CEO's as people who care for profits and growth, often to the detriment of the artists that work under them [A preconception that historically has been proven accurate, BUT only because these people are brought in by a board of directors from the business world] It also largely explains Ji-Hoon's almost nonchalance towards the company, and his controversial statement about wanting to "run it as a club". To many people, this sounded eerily like the corporate "we're all family" excuse that's often given to mistreat workers, but looking at Ji-Hoon's background, and how he started PM as a passion project between 7 people with his scholarship money, as an actual creative, it very much comes across to me as naivety, not malice.

This doesn't abdicate Ji-Hoon completely, and in fact, makes him culpable in other ways. PM has grown to a team of 45 people- its safe to say that it needs leadership from a business savvy, [hopefully] ethical CEO, and that Ji-Hoon simply does not have the tools in his skillset to provide that. However, his work and vision are still vital to Project Moon, and I'd love to see him shift to a position that still has creative control, but that separates him from the business and leadership aspects for the workers and his own good. I'm still quite fond of 300 lunacy man, and I think a CEO as passionate as him has its sets of advantages, but I think he's understandably out of his depth here, and I just hope that a conclusion where all parties are satisfied can reached.

holy yap sesh imma go play demon souls now

#pm #project moon #limbus company #limbus #this is my second tumblr post ever idk how to tag things #am i doing it right guys

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actual-changeling · 1 year

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In the grand scheme of things, a month is not enough time to really get to know someone, especially if said person is clearly still going through a lot of shit and clinging to his brother like an octopus. They have been spending more and more afternoons with each other, always with Joel in the middle, and he likes to think they're on a good path to being friends.

Tommy might not know Ellie well, but he does know her, and it's easy to see that she is currently incredibly uncomfortable and Joel nowhere to be seen. The dining hall is loud during meal times on the best of days, but today it is outright chaotic, and Tommy remembers how overwhelming it had been during his first few months in Jackson. On top of that, Ellie is so small she can probably barely see through the crowd, just a piece of driftwood caught in the current and pulled along in whatever direction people are moving, and without Joel there to enforce her personal space, she is drowning.

His body is moving toward her before he even notices what he is doing, stopping himself once he does; there's a chance Ellie would be quite upset if he tried to swoop in and "save" her, well aware how much she dislikes being close to anyone who isn't Joel. But then Martin starts talking to her, good guy, usually very friendly, and all color drains from her face, and Tommy decides he'd rather have Ellie elbow him in the stomach than face his brother's wrath over not stepping in.

The crowd parts around him when he moves through it, the distance between him and Ellie closed within seconds, and he stops on her right, keeping himself in her field of vision so he doesn't startle her (he did that once on accident, never again). He nods at Martin, though his feelings are far from his priority right now.

"Hey Ellie, have you seen Joel somewhere?"

Trying to keep his tone light, he has one eye on the people surrounding them and one on her, still trying to figure out where the hell his brother disappeared to, he never leaves her alone if he can help it. He's not quite sure what he expects Ellie to do, but it's definitely not her hands snapping up to grab his arm so tightly it's almost painful, nails digging into his skin. She is shaking, trying so hard to be aware of the room around her that her eyes are almost fluttering, and it takes him a few beats to react.

"Gonna go 'n find my brother with this one, Martin."

It's not a question but he nods, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze before merging back into the crowd, and Tommy is incredibly thankful for that. The second he is gone, Ellie deflates, falling against his side, and Tommy brings up his other arm around her and gently places his palm on her back, relieved when she doesn't flinch. Asking if she is okay seems unnecessary, she clearly isn't, so he just tries his best to provide her with as much space as possible as he navigates them to an empty table in one of the quieter corners near the back exit, casually pushing people away when necessary.

Ellie sinks into a chair and doesn't let go of him, knuckles white, and he settles next to her, keeping an eye out for Joel while talking to her.

"Anything you need, sweetheart?"

The endearment slips out, force of habit, and her gaze is suddenly glued to his face, pupils blown so wide her eyes seem black.

"Don't leave."

"I won't, promise. Do you know where Joel went?"

She shakes her head, fingers around his wrist loosening a tiny bit.

"Alright, I'm sure he'll be back soon, someone probably just distracted him."

They both lean back, the relative silence between them oddly comforting, and Ellie nudges her chair across the floor until their armrests are pressed together, her breaths coming a bit slower and deeper now. The affection curling around his heart is familiar, warmth blooming in his chest, and it's easy to understand why Joel fell for her so quickly and completely it almost killed him. She relaxes while they wait, head tipping to rest against his biceps, eyes closed, and the open display of trust is so sweet it makes him ache. Despite not spending a lot of time together, she clearly thinks of him as someone safe, probably due to his relationship with Joel, and Tommy finds himself hoping that maybe they can build something on that foundation. Ellie is Joel's kid, which makes her family, and Tommy looks out for his people.

It takes Joel about fifteen minutes to finally return to them with a panicked look on his face, clearly out of breath, and he stops dead in his tracks when he sees Ellie half draped over him.

"I'm sorry, baby, someone was asking about some construction work I did yesterday, and-"

"It's okay," she interrupts, blinking up at him and stretching out one hand in a clear demand, "Tommy got me."

Joel stills, eyes flicking between the two of them, and he simply shrugs his unoccupied shoulder, it's not like it's his kid, after all. He takes Ellie's hand and falls into the chair next to her, leaning over to press a kiss to her hair, and Tommy doesn't even try to hide his smile. To everyone's surprise, Ellie stays right where she is, holding Joel's hand with a death grip but still using him as a pillow, and the look he shares with Joel is one of mutual confusion and resignation. She starts talking to him about some space book she's been reading, ignoring the last twenty minutes of her life, and they silently agree to wait out the masses before getting their own food, Ellie seemingly content to force both of them to listen to her ramble about an astronaut he has no idea about.

Yeah, she got them both wrapped around her finger, and Tommy finds he doesn't mind it one bit, hoping that maybe this is not only a second chance for Joel, but for him, too.

#alex writes tlou #the last of us #tlou #ellie and tommy #ellie and joel #ellie williams #joel miller #tommy miller #ficlet #fluff #hurt/comfort #look at me writing happy shit guys look at me go #consider this a little warm up #uncle tommy has me under control rn send help

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 11 months

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"I've mended all my ways, repented, seen the light, and made a switch."

The fact that Rollo has a voice line where he genuinely expresses an interest in visiting the Mostro Lounge KILLS me 😂 This fan art in particular makes me laugh a lot!

It's also at this point that I realize I thought the Heartslabyul headcanons with Rollo would be super long (because of there being 5 members in that dorm), but the Savanaclaw and Octavinelle headcanons ended up being even longer...

A Big Octavinelle Welcome to Rollo!

Rollo's interest was piqued when he first heard about the on-campus eatery that Azul runs. However, he keeps flip-flopping on whether or not he should go. On one hand, he’s curious about what it’s like—but on the other hand, does he really want to give that smug octopus his business??

… Eventually, Rollo gives into the temptation. He settles on an excuse to go while still protecting his ego and guilty conscience: I must survey his cafe to ensure that there are no misdeeds being committed… Who knows what sort of shading things may be happening without a watchful eye and regulations?

He goes through the mirror and emerges in the world wet and full of wonder. Down a corridor with glass walls, Rollo peers at the passing marine life with caution (as if they, too, were in on some scheme). For as peaceful as the bottom of the sea may be, he’s wary of the monsters that also lurk in its depths.

He follows the faint sound of smooth jazz to the lounge. Upon entering, Rollo finds it packed with mob students at every table, stuffing their mouths with food and filling the air with noisy chatter. He reluctantly wades over to the front desk, handkerchief to his face to keep himself strong in this dense den of depravity.

The suited host greets Rollo with a bow and a smile that feels a little too familiar. That immediately sends alarm bells ringing in his head. “Welcome to the Mostro Lounge, Rollo-san. Azul has been anticipating your arrival for quite some time.” (“… Has he now?” How positively shady!)

“We have a table specially reserved for you. Please, right this way.” He follows the host, not letting his eyes wander off his back for one second. To Rollo’s shock, he’s seated and handed a menu without any issues, then is left on his own to peruse. Odd. Given his other experiences at NRC, he was expecting some sort of unnecessary ruckus—

CRASH!! Right on cue, a mob student goes flying across the room and smacks right into a wall. A waiter with a face nearly identical to the host’s is the assailant. “C’mere!!” Floyd says coyly. His grin isn’t quite as coy—it’s maniacal. “I’ll squeeze the rest of the tip right outta you! That’ll teach ya to cheap out on us!”

Floyd advances on the frightened mob student, who is scrambling away on his hands and feet. Rollo blinks and rubs at his eyes, wondering if what he just saw was real or a figment of his imagination.

Jade is suddenly blocking his field of vision, wearing that same suspicious smile again. “Would you care for recommendations?" he asks, gesturing to the menu. "If you'll direct your attention here, this is our limited-time autumn menu. It features an assortment of freshly picked mushrooms..."

Rollo tries to get up or to crane his neck—anything to get a better look at whatever the pandemonium that Jade is trying to conceal is. Alas, the eel follows him like a shadow and expertly blocks all of his attempts (all while reciting the recommendations as he had promised earlier).

“Please keep your eyes on the menu, Rollo-san,” Jade advises patiently. “It will be difficult for you to decide which items you would like if your eyes are wandering to places they shouldn’t be. You must believe me when I say there is nothing of importance in this lounge but your own leisure.” (There’s a light chuckle that accompanies those words, and he doesn’t like it one bit.)

Rollo is forced to browse the menu (and forced to listen to Jade drone on and on about mushrooms). He’s appalled by the absurd pricing on the items (did the devil set them?)—even the simplest ones have huge markups!! But ultimately, he has to concede and opt for the overpriced plain dishes to appease his sensible palate. No indulgent dishes for him, no sir!

Jade doesn’t move until the conflict is settled; when he finally clears away with Rollo’s order for the kitchen, Floyd has finished “cleaning up” after the public nuisance. He casts a nonchalant look around the room and goes, “Hah? What’cha gawking at? Everybody go back to eating unless you wanna be next.”

“… That man just now, what happened to him?” Rollo speaks up—not that he would ever defend the scum of NRC, but he has a thing or two to say about the way the problem was handled. At least air the dirty laundry in private.

“Ehhh, who’s askin’? I don’t have to answer to anyone!” Oh no, Floyd’s eyes have lit up like those of a cat that has spotted new prey. “Hehehe, I know exaaactly who you are! Azul’s special guest guppy…!” (“Everyone and their brother seems to know,” Rollo grumbles.)

He’s unnerved by the way Floyd’s grinning—as though he knows something that Rollo doesn’t—so he quickly drops the question and shoos the eel off. Unfortunately, Floyd keeps returning to his table to annoy him with little disturbances: offering a refill on water (which sloshes all over the table), asking if he wants straws or napkins (then chucking a handful of them at him), calling him by the wrong name (which Rollo makes sure to correct), etc.

… Rollo’s starting to believe Floyd is doing all of this to purposefully annoy him. (He has to resort to taking deep breathing exercises and mutter various peaceful mantras to keep himself from lashing out at the waiter.)

Rollo never thought he’d be thinking this, but the other twin is his savior from the hell that is dealing with Floyd. In comes Jade with his order, which contains many more items than Rollo recalls ordering. Many of them are extravagant and arranged on ornate china platters. “On the house from the manager,” Jade explains, setting the heavy tray down. “I will leave you to enjoy your meal. Come along, Floyd.”

The twins skitter off, leaving Rollo to his own devices. He takes a second to decompress from the stressful encounter with the Leeches—and when Rollo thinks about it, he doesn’t mind the atmosphere of this place. It’s quiet and calming, with a classy yet understated look to the lounge itself and its staff. Maybe it’s not so bad after all.

He places a napkin in his lap before beginning on the feast, taking care to carve everything into more digestible chunks before nibbling at them. Of course, Rollo doesn't plan on gorging himself (there's no way he could finish all of this!), but he doesn't want to be wasteful either. Perhaps a healthy compromise would be to take the rest to-go and eat the leftovers over the course of a week.

As he's in the middle of mentally plotting out his next meals, the entire lounge unexpectedly darkens. Gasps and cries of surprise ring out from the mob students. Then a blinding spotlight appears in the middle of the room, and Rollo almost chokes on his buttered bread roll.

Azul is illuminated by the spotlight. He throws his arms out in a friendly gesture, beaming out to his captive audience. “Gentlemen! It is with great pride and pleasure that we of the Mostro Lounge welcome you to this special evening. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy your meals and conversations set against a calming backdrop of the sea’s melody.”

Their performance begins: Azul on the grand piano, Jade on contrabass, and Floyd on drums. Rollo wants to detest it, but he can’t bring himself to. If he closes his eyes and wills his mind elsewhere, the opening notes envelop him and soothe his weariness, like waves washing away his fatigue and stress.

“I’d like to dedicate this song to a very special guest,” Azul announces, “to our visitor from the City of Flowers, Student Council President of Noble Bell College, and, of course, our dearest friend, Rollo Flamme-san! May the bond between us and our schools be ever stronger.”

His eyes fly wide open. The spotlight drastically swivels, the bright, hot lights suddenly on him. This time, Rollo really does choke on his bread.

He downs what he can of his meal as quickly as he can, wanting to slap some money on the table and to be out before Azul can embarrass him further. That crafty octopus has planned for this though—none of the mob students stop by to give his check, locking Rollo in a social circumstance where he has to stay put (or else be labelled as a dine-and-dasher, a criminal).

He sits there quietly coping and seething for the entirety of the performance. The calm waters the music once provided has suddenly turned scalding. Rollo’s gaze seemingly burns holes in the Octatrio as they finally (FINALLY!) wrap up and bow for their audience.

Azul and the twins then make their way to Rollo. Were it not for the booth itself, there was no doubt in Rollo’s mind that they would be circling him like sharks. Jade and Leech stand on either side of them while Azul clasps Rollo’s shoulders in an overly familiar way (it makes his skin crawl).

Before he get a word out edge-wise or demand for the check, Azul declares, “Our dear Rollo-san just so happens to be Mostro Lounge’s 10,000th customer!! As such, he has won himself a most generous prize: one free consultation with yours truly! A round of applause for him, everyone.”

The applause kicks up, and Rollo’s head is spinning from confusion at Azul’s ludicrous statement. He doesn’t have the luxury of fully processing what it could mean or what his true intentions are—Jade has looped one arm under his, and Floyd has seized the other.

What is the matter with these two?! When I said I was interested in a visit to the on-campus cafe, never did imagine I would be accosted by thuggish men during it!!

“Release me!! Unhand me!!” Rollo roars, flailing his limbs uselessly as the twins drag him off to one of the back rooms. The mob students avert their gazes, pretending as if they don’t see him—they’re unwilling to get involved themselves. “IS THIS HOW NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE OPERATES?!”

Into Azul’s office he’s ushered, seated before the proverbial mob boss himself. Crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together, Azul calls for Jade to fetch tea. Floyd lazily flops onto an adjacent seat and drapes his limbs all over it.

“Rollo-san, it’s been so long! We must catch up before getting down to business,” Azul croons. His voice is disgustingly sweet and slimy, caked on thick. “Tell me, how have you been? How are you finding our fair school? I’m all ears.”

“Don’t act as though we are friendly. Nothing could be further from the truth.” Rollo makes a face, concealing his grimace of disapproval with his handkerchief—Azul spots it and his eyes glimmer with recognition. “I’ve seen through your ruse, you miscreants. I won’t be deceived by the likes of you and your minions.”

“Oh? And what, pray tell, are the misdeeds you suspect on our part?” Azul asks innocently.

Jade places a fresh cup of tea in front of their guest, then Azul. The steam rising from the cups shrouds their faces in a curtain of faint white, obscuring both truth and lies. Floyd is on the edge of his seat, waiting for a good brawl to break out. Jade joins him, matching his deranged grin. (All they’re missing is the popcorn.)

“… I thought it odd that you would be ‘anticipating’ my arrival and that you would go to the trouble of preparing to receive me. Trying to win my favor with free food and a show, it’s clear you were trying to butter me up for something.”

“Me? Butter you up? Never,” Azul insists, but his smile is a little too wide. “I only wish to help you, to deepen the relationship between ourselves and of our respective schools. Networking and making useful—oh, excuse me, I mean deep—connections is important for young adults.”

Azul bows elegantly. “… I offer you my services, Rollo-san. Speak your heart’s desire, and I shall see if I can make it a reality. In return, I expect a favor, should I happen to call upon you. We will also serve as each other’s contacts for our own schools. You see? It is a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Rollo instantly sees what he is: the devil looking to make a deal. The twins with their razor sharp teeth, his hellish imps seeking free amusement.

He stands, fists clenched, expression enraged, and lets nasty words torrent out. “You’re sorely mistaken if you think I’m open to negotiating any sort of terms with you. You’d be better off propositioning someone with fewer brain cells. Maybe start with your dopey-eyed classmates before you attempt at seducing something out of me.”

The thing he wished for more than anything else… that was something no one could make a reality. The best he could hope for was some form of retribution—retribution that Rollo sought to bring about with his own hands. He would never be able to live it down if he entrusted his ambitions to someone else, let alone a nefarious mage. Soon, brother. Soon, I will bring about a fairer world in your name—a world without magic, without sin, without suffering…!!

“I understand.” Azul nods, accepting Rollo’s decision, but doesn’t totally back down. He offers a rectangular angluar cut of paper. “My card. If you ever wish to have your woes be heard, you know how to reach me.”

Rollo snatches it out of his hand and crushes it. He storms out without another word, crumpled business card still in his grasp.

“How unfortunate that Rollo-san did not take the bait,” Jade sighs. (“It was funny watching his face twist though,” Floyd cackles, flopping over in his chair.)

“No matter.” Azul says with a shrug. “I foresaw this from the very beginning—which is exactly why we took precautionary measures to ensure that we still earned something from his appearance at all. Isn’t that right, boys?”

They smirked at each other knowingly. Everything had been carefully calculated from the moment Rollo had stepped onto campus. The big show they had put on, the loud declaration to the lounge and its customers… “Our dear Rollo-san just so happens to be Mostro Lounge’s 10,000th customer!! As such, he has won himself a most generous prize: one free consultation with yours truly!” (That had been a convenient lie, made up for the whole publicity stunt.)

All of it was an elaborate pretense for one explicit purpose: to plant a seed of suggestion in the other customers’ heads. A free consultation for the 10,000th customer? Then perhaps they could be the next lucky man to be the 20,000th one. More incentive to return, more lines skewered with tasty bait, cast out into the sea of waiting customers.

“Fufufu, another excellent job well done, if I do say so myself.”

While Azul and the twins are gloating in private, Rollo has made his way to the first fireplace he can find. He furiously casts Azul’s accursed business cards into the flames, relishing the moment it turns entirely black and ashen. No, Rollo swears to himself. He won’t be swayed by the devil. He was made stronger than that.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Floyd Leech #Azul Ashengrotto #Rollo Flamme #Octavinelle #Jade Leech #Tweels #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons

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igotanidea · 1 year

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Retaliation: Jason Todd x plus-size!fem! reader

“You should not be staying here alone.”

“Hm?” Y/N was more focused on the chocolate pudding in front of her than the words her boyfriend shot her direction.

“You should not be staying here alone” he repeated rolling his eyes at her obliviousness.

“I’m not alone.” she licked the spoon before continuing “Alfred is here. Besides, I believe that Wayne manor has all sort of crazy technology protection measures, right? Some of them of my invention?”

“Still, I don’t like the idea…..”

“Come on, Jace.” She took a step forward, dessert in her hand. No matter what she was not willingly giving up on her piece of sweet “it’s not the first time and most definitely not the last. Why are you getting paranoid now?”

“Not sure…. Maybe it’s the instinct.”

“Maybe it’s the urge to avoid patrol with Grayson.” She smirked

“I’ll ditch him within ten seconds from the start of it and you know it. I think it’s rather the urge to not leave you alone with that chocolate thing.”

“Get the hell away from my pudding!” she yelled and rushed through the door to save herself from Jason’s greedy hands .

***

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to stay at the manor for the night. Sometimes, she was accompanying Oracle in the batcave, some other working on her tech stuff, but still she was present there. This time however, she needed peace. Of course it was hard to focus on anything while Jason was out in the field, going full crazy with his guns and stuff, getting himself in danger, but Y/N had to force herself to try and get some rest. So instead of staying in the four walls, she decided to take a bit of fresh air. If you can even talk about fresh air in Gotham City. Still, grabbing her jacket and a pair of favorite fingerless gloves she sneaked a peek into the kitchen when Alfred was busy baking.

“Alfred.”

“Miss Y/n” the butler turned around from the counter and smiled at her. “Going somewhere?”

“Just gotta clear my mind. A lot has been going on lately.”

“Surely it did. But please, don’t be long. I may need help with preparations.”

“The feast for our fearless protectors?” the girl smiled wildly, a chuckle escaping her mouth.

“that’s one way to describe them.” Alfred smiled back lightly

“ Are you preparing your cookies?”

“I do.”

“Then I will be back in a heartbeat. That’s the only way to ensure I will get at least one of it.”

***

She did not come back in a heartbeat. She did not come back in an hour and after that time Alfred became a bit worried. Trying to keep calm he went down to the batcave to consult with Barbara, who being herself, immediately took the action, searching long and wide for any sign of Y/n. The thing she found was far from good news.

***

"Who the hell is she?"

"I don't really know. She was in the manor so....."

"You idiot!" the first man smacked the first one on the head "Were you thinking at all?!"

"Relax, Denver, maybe we can actually benefit from it. If she was at the manor she probably has some value to Wayne or one of his sons...."

"Denver ?" Y/N couldn’t help a single laugh despite the bag on her head blocking her vision and the fact that situation was far from funny "Have you guys been watching Money Heist much?"

"You shut up or I'll help you" with a single harsh move her vision was back and she squinted trying to prevent eyes from the light.

"Let me guess" her gaze focused on the man in front of her. "If you're Denver, since you really act like the most impulsive one, than he "she motioned towards the man by the wall "must be Marseille, the intermediary between you two" . And you....." she looked at he one acting like the leader of the group "let me guess, you're Berlin? Or did you go straight for the name of Professor?"

"You talk a lot for someone who's just been captured....." the leader took a few steps forward "But you're good, I'll give you that. I go by Berlin, indeed. Now, let's see the pretty face Marseille got for us.... Oh, fuck....." the sudden change of tone and unexpected word got his accomplices on high alert.

"What happened boss?" the man who called himself Denver stuttered.

"Do you know who she is? Do you freaking now who that fucking one is? You've captured Red Hood's girl!"

"Wait.... How do you know....?" Y/N stuttered

"We got our ways, sunshine. Now, this is not going to be nice for you....." he smirked reaching for the knife resting on the nearby table and his wild face expression made Y/N shiver.

Oh, no.......

***

“Red?” getting in touch with Jason to drop the news to him was far from the preferred way to spend the night, but Babs really had no choice in the matter if she wanted to save her friend.

“Kinda busy here, Oracle.”

“this is rather important.”

“Everything is rather important. I can’t really do three things at once. You got four vigilantes running loose so why don’t you…..”

“It’s about Y/n.” she specified. Time was of the essence in this case so she was trying to use as little words as possible only to get Jason going. Of course that informing any other member of the family was an option, but eventually Red Hood would find out what happened and flatten everyone and everything for not letting him know first. After all, Y/N was his girlfriend. No one else’s. And it wasn;t like he was underlying it proudly at every time possible.

“What about her?” for a moment the only sound echoing through the comms were bangs and some screams, clear sign that a single mention of her name and possibility of her being in danger got his mind spinning and his action more violent. And then Jason came back “What happened?”

***

It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

The guys who captured her were surely not the ones to joke around and make empty promises. Once they realized who she was they tried everything to get her to talk and spill Red’s secret identity. Not that she was going to talk of course, but the price to pay for silence was extremely hard.

“Damn it, you bitch!” Denver yelled and punch her straight in the face, hitting an eye and she could feel the bruise forming. “You better talk right now or….”

“Denver.” Berlin spoke calmly “Please, the girl is our guest. Is that how you treat your guests? I don’t really think so. “ he took a step towards her, grabbing her swollen face in his hand and making her look at him “it would be a shame to mutilate such pretty face…..”

“Screw you” she spat but it only made the man laugh

“You see, gentlemen. This little one has to be taught some manners. It’s a shame Joker is not in town tonight, he would show you the real meaning behind the words “big mouth.”

“Screw you ….” She repeated, but this time it came out weaker. Maybe it was because of the fact that for whatever seemed like an eternity now she was tortured with the use of every tool and every method possible. She was tied to the chair, her hands bind behind her, wrist swollen and purple because of the cut of the blood supply. She had sprained ankle which hurt like hell and many deep cuts on her legs which allowed the blood to drip freely making her feel hazy and dizzy. She also had countless bruises all over her arms and possibly dislocated shoulder. And now, also a black eye. Her head was hanging low and she was losing all the motivation to fight, not that she was going to show it to them.

“You are so stubborn, aren’t you? why don’t we start again then?” Berlin reached towards the table and grabbed something that looked like giant nail clippers “Step by step. First, you tell me who is the Red Hood. Then I’d like to know about the Nightwing. And last, but not least, Batman.”

“There is clearly something wrong with your priorities” the sudden hit in the chest made her cough and much to her terror she saw some blood coming from her mouth.

“every time you refuse to cooperate I will pull one of your fingernails.” Berlin moved closer to the chair and twisted her arm painfully, placing her finger between the claws.

“He’s going to get to you, you know…..” she whispered “he’ll find you and then…..”

“Then what, sunshine?” Marseille, silent until now joint the discussion pulling her head back and squeezing her already hurt neck, putting another knife to it. “You still think he can save you? You watch to many movies….”

“What good will it come to you if you kill me?” she panted, her heartrate picking up significantly “you still won’t know who he is underneath that mask. You’ll be left in the dark, so what is the whole point of….Auch!”

“You still don’t get it, doll, do you? We’re just sending a signal here. You see, your loverboy interfered with some of our business and let me tell you, there were consequences for us. Not the kind you like. So this…” Marseille motioned towards her broken figure “is just a collateral damage. You are a collateral damage. A lucky coincidence we captured you since it was not planned. But it will get to Hood. And when he comes….” He laughed viciously “we’ll be ready.”

“Screw…..”

“You said that before and it got you nowhere, sweetheart. Again then. Who is Red Hood?” once again the clipper got really close to her finger and Y/N gulped loudly.

“Why don’t you just ask the object of your interest?” familiar, yet modulated by the helm voice reverberated from the right upper corner of the barn the men were keeping Y/n.

“Look who decided to drop by.” Berlin smiled wildly, especially when he noticed the gun pointed at him. “now, now, Red. We all know you are way past your killing days, don’t you.”

“I can make exceptions” Jason’s gaze travelled towards Y/N who was now almost unconscious on that fucking chair, blooded, bruised, exhausted, tortured. And still with Marseille’s knife at her throat. Jason had to be extremely careful now.

“You want to add to your girl’s trauma? Poor thing has been through so much….. Believe me, we have very vivid imagination when it comes to retaliation.”

“I can assure you, it could never compare to mine.” Jason took a step forward, now almost having the gun at Berlin’s forehead “Easy, Hood. One wrong move and Marseille’s going to cut her throat without any inhibitions. “

“What do you want?” Jay’s voice broke slightly

“Take off your mask and expose yourself or… you know” Berlin made a very unambiguous gesture. “You can’t win this round, you know it. There are three against one, even you are not that good.”

“I’ve dealt with worse….”

“But not when the life of someone you love was at stake.”

Jason hesitated. He could easily take all of the men down, but could he be fast enough to save her as well? He knew Marseille, that one was a devil in disguise, the most unpredictable opponent, never acting like he was expected to. Once again, his gaze travelled to Y/N and his heart clenched. For a while her consciousness was back and he looked him straight into the eyes, her own filled with tears, fear and so much pain. She shook her head slowly, silent begging for him to not surrender for her sake, but Marseille pulled her by the hair and she stopped. It was the moment Jason could not take it anymore. His brain stopped functioning. Let them know who he was. Let them. If it means that Y/n would be kept safe he would go for it.

“Fine….” He muttered reaching up to remove the helmet.

“No! No, don’t, please, please!” Y/n yelled and the second that voice came from her things happened too fast to comprehend.

Nightwing and Red Robin came out of nowhere, heading straight towards Marseille who immediately yanked Y/N up using her as a shield. At the same time Robin went at Berlin from behind, tackling him to the ground. In such circumstances Jason fired a single shot into Denver’s leg eliminating him from the equation for good. However, the other two were not so easy to give up. Berlin got up from the floor and attacked Jason, showing unusual fighting skills, which were a bit surprising yet still not sufficient to beat Red Hood. It only took a couple seconds when he was back on the ground being beaten to death by the anti-hero.

“You hurt her!” he yelled “You should die for that!” at this point Jason did not care where his punches and kicks landed. In all his blind fury, the only image behind his eyes was Y/N, broken, scared, injured…. This only fueled his rage and made the motions more violent and powerful. He was so oblivious of what was happening that it took Dick’s interference to bring him back to reality.

“Hood!” he yelled

“Fuck off, Grayson!”

“She needs you!”

Those three little words worked like a magic spell. Jason immediately dropped unconscious Berlin, whose face was now more like a bloody pulp than anything else and looked about. Marseille was down as well, now getting tied up by Damian and a few meters further he noticed Y/N’s limp body, her head resting on Tim’s lap. The boy stood up abruptly, pushing away Dick and fall on his knees next to her, slowly and gently getting her in his arms, careful not to cause any more damage. It only took him a second to notice the deep cut on her throat and a pool of blood. Her blood.

“y/n…. no, no, no, no….” Without hesitation he took the cape Tim handed him and was trying to use it to block the bleeding “Baby, please, stay with me….Please” he sobbed noticing her breath getting more and more shallow.

“Jay….” She stuttered reaching for his cheek and cupping it gently, her hand so limp when he put his own bigger over hers. Limp and cold and pale just like her whole face.

“hush, baby. Save your strength. Just hold on to me, all right? It’s gonna be all right. You’re gonna be alright. Just don’t let go….” His grip on her grew stronger and stronger while she was becoming more pale and weak and started coughing.

“I’m….. I’m sorry…. Jay…..” she closed her eyes and took a desperate breath “I…. I love you…..”

“No, no, no, no! Don’t you dare dying on me! You hear me? I forbid you!” his hands were stained with her blood. A stain he knew he could never clean, no matter how hard he would try.

“Bossing me…. around…. Huh?”

‘I know you like it when I do that…” he brushed a strand of hair from her bloody face and rested his forehead on hers, closing eyes in silent desperation. Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me.

“And yet, I never….. “ she coughed “never listened”

“Make an exception this time” he pleaded, tears falling from his eyes. “I can’t lose you…. Y/N, baby…..”

“Jay…” she whispered, eyes blurry, losing contact with reality. All the light that her gaze usually held slowly dying with each faint heartbeat. If only he could ......

"Jason...."

“I told you to fuck off Dickhead!” he spat at his brother, not caring what the oldest had to say at the moment.

“The help is here” Dick motioned towards the paramedics rushing through the warehouse door. “Come on, let them work, it’s not too late….. Jay?”

The view of big, scary Red Hood kneeling next to the girl who was the love of his live, holding her close to his chest, while sobbing, rocking back and forth and repeatedly kissing her forehead muttering some incoherent words was heartbreaking for everyone. And there was nothing either of the boys could do.

“Miracles like this don’t happen…..” Jason sobbed while Y/N’s body was practically ripped off his embrace by paramedics and put into the ambulance, while his brothers held him back, preventing from beating the medics. “I lost her….. I lost Y/n…..”

Possible part 2 - let me know if you want another part of angst, mourning and heartache.

@jasontoddsthickbabe

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krirebr · 2 months

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Surprise blurb bomb!

It’s been a long week, and you need something to bring at least a little brightness to your life. Flowers should do! So you head to the florist, the new one you’ve been hearing rave reviews about from all your coworkers. You walk in to see so many beautiful displays, but you just need something small for the vase on your counter. Whoever this woman was, she was insanely talented. You’ve got your nose close to a carnation when something tall enters the corner of your field of vision. You look up to be greeted by a smile, and are offered help from a man who introduces himself as the owner of the shop, the new florist. He sends you home with all your favorites, first one on the house. Little so you know, there’s a lot more where that came from. Who’s your babe?

First off, Essie, did you know I worked as a florist for five years?? I can't remember if I've talked about that on here before or not. But that means this little blurb hit wonderfully close to home!

And I swear, I'm not going this direction just because he's my favorite, but my first thought here was genuinely Curtis. There's just something about those big, rough hands doing such delicate work. And just, like, think about the look on canon!Curtis's face when he walked into the greenhouse car. He's the only choice for me.

Warnings for me fully unleashing my flower nerdery below.

But so, since I spent a significant portion of my life in floral shops and learning about them, I enter this new one with a critical eye. What's the cooler situation? Have the roses been left out in room temps? I'm touching everything to determine freshness. And what about the arrangements? Is it all just roses and baby's breath (which I, of course, call gyp, because I'm being obnoxious) and leather leaf? Is this the sort of place my grandma would think is great?? I am, in short, being a real dick.

So I am immensely pleased when I find several of my favorites - lisianthus and stock, green ball dianthus, blue globe thistle, multiple kinds of wax flower, ruscus and seeded euc and my beloved variegated pitt. The anthers have been picked out of the lilies. All the flowers are wonderfully fresh. The arrangements are all interesting. There's nothing for me to be judgemental about!

Curtis, of course, notices just how thorough and attentive I'm being as I walk through his shop. So he comes over to see if there's anything in particular I'm looking for. When I answer his question with a thousand of my own, he's not just patient, he's excited that I care so much. That I want to talk about the ins and outs of his shop, want to hear all his random flower opinions because I have so many of my own.

He has to pause our conversation multiple times, because there are actual paying customers that need his help. But he always comes back. And I always wait while he works. Finally, I realize that this quick errand has already taken me well over an hour. But before I'm able to leave, Curtis goes over to the case and pulls out the arrangement of lizzy I've been staring at this whole time. "Here," he says, "on the house." When I try to protest, he says "I'll be happy, knowing this one's going to such a good home."

That's got me kind of speechless, so I let him box it up for me. As I turn to go, I tell him I'll definitely be back. "I sure hope so," he says, his voice a little rough, and with a look that makes my knees go weak.

My house is definitely going to be full of flowers as I try to find any excuse to visit that flower shop in the next few weeks.

#ask kris #bigtreefest #curtis everett #flower shop au #snowpiercer #asks are always welcome

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cripplecharacters · 11 days

Note

Hello! I have a character who has esotropia. I myself have esotropia but it is not really noticeable unless I take off my glasses. I wanted this character’s esotropia to be more visible because I always wanted to see people like me and just giving them glasses and not showing their eye often felt like a cheap cop-out. I also already have many other characters with glasses in this story and others. I have two questions about the character.

One, I’ve been researching and I am still unclear on whether all forms of esotropia require glasses and if they would experience any reduced vision or other symptoms.

Two, the character struggles with self-worth and an obsession with being conventionally attractive (not just about their facial difference, the obsession effects several other parts of their appearance as well). With the help of their friends, they gradually learn to accept themselves as they are. The character is a fairy and has the ability to cast minor spells that change small parts of their appearance. I had the idea for them to hide their facial difference (as that is something ive tried to do myself) with their magic and then stop hiding it (and other parts of their appearance) as they become more comfortable with themselves. Is this okay to do? The character largely draws on my own experience and is in a way a vent character but I don’t want to spread harmful ideas with my work.

Thank you!

-💚

Hi there!

I have exotropia, not esotropia, but hopefully I can be helpful anyway. How exciting to hear about some good representation!

There's accommodative esotropia, which can be corrected with glasses. It sounds like this might be your type, since you say yours isn't noticeable with glasses on. There's also non-accommodative, which cannot be corrected with glasses. That might be a good angle for your character.

As for vision issues: double vision is an issue for a lot of us. In some cases, it can be corrected with prism lenses. This wouldn't necessarily make the eye appear the same as an average eye.

Another way it can affect vision is amblyopia: sometimes the brain can suppress the image from one eye (particularly if the esotropia is present from a very young age). These people would have other vision issues (poor depth perception, limited visual field, etc). This is commonly known as a lazy eye - people often incorrectly call strabismus a "lazy eye", but it's a misnomer!

My particular strabismus cannot be corrected with glasses, and it "drifts" too much for prism lenses to be effective in correcting my double vision, either. I wear an occlusive (opaque) contact lens to block the vision in the affected eye. It doesn't hide the position of my eye, and actually makes it stand out slightly more from my unaffected blue eye since it's black. It's my understanding that it's not an especially common treatment, but it may be an option for your character. It's also fine for them to not wear anything for their vision.

As for your second question: I personally feel that a disabled person drawing from their own experiences is almost always going to be an appropriate way to write something. I think a story that shows a journey toward self-acceptance is one of the best ways of including the experience of that kind of shame that people often have with their disabilities.

#mod jess #vision #face difference #strabismus representation

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sunshine-jesse · 10 months

Text

Why I'm Uncomfortable With Trying To Diagnose The Siblings

Hey!

I would like to preface this by saying that I'm not saying you shouldn't find representation in these people. If you have a personality disorder, and see your own behaviors in the two of them, then by all means, claim them. The point I'm going to try to be making is NOT that it's morally wrong to see yourselves in them. After all, I find autistic rep in people like Futaba Sakura, who isn't explicitly diagnosed, or trans rep in Luka Urushibara, who isn't trans within the context of the story but is so obviously trans in behavior that she'd absolutely be trans IRL. I also find pretty good autistic rep in Maria Ushiromiya from Umineko, and trans rep in [SPOILER CHARACTER] from that very same work, even though her experience doesn't exactly line up with the average trans experience.

None of these characters are diagnosed. None of them really have to be in order to be valid examples.

The point I'm going to be making in this essay is that I don't think that personality disorders have enough explanatory power for their behavior, and while Ashley and Andrew (especially Ashley) might technically qualify for one of them, I think it's a very simplistic way of characterizing their behavior. And frankly, whether or not they do qualify doesn't matter, because I think psychology as a field is grossly insufficient for characterizing and treating their behaviors… and perhaps even your own.

Why?

Well!

What, exactly, about their actions and thought patterns is disordered? The Nina incident obviously, and the calls to Julia, I guess, but what -else-?

Let's start with Ashley because she's the one people have most commonly accepted as having a PD of some kind. Namely, Borderline Personality Disorder! I'm going to go down the list of symptoms and tell you why I either do not think she has many of them, or that they're perfectly rational reactions to the environment around her.

I probably won't cover Andrew as deeply because Ashley, as loud and annoying as she is, makes everything easy to see.

-Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment

…So. Where, exactly, are the -frantic- efforts? In Decay, what she's worried about is literally her dying. Not just being abandoned. And in Burial, when she feels her grip loosening on Andrew, there's nothing frantic about her reaction to it. She's just confused and thoughtful, maybe a bit worried. But that's more because she's trying to parse what's going on, and not because she's trying to avoid abandonment. She only ever speaks about it in regards to the incest vision.

The most severe actions to prevent abandonment are her calls towards Julia- assuming Andrew ever could've heard them and it wasn't just Andrew imagining what the calls could've been- but she takes immediate responsibility for them when confronted. That immediate responsibility is admittedly her just laughing it off, but there wasn't even an attempt made to justify it. All she has is the fear of abandomment, really. With the above in mind, her calls to Julia come off as her being more of an asshole than anything.

-Unstable and chaotic interpersonal relationships, often characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation, also known as "splitting"

I think she idealizes Andrew a lot. But the parts where she tries to """""gaslight"""" Andrew over how responsible he is for his killings aren't… devaluation. As I spoke about in my last essay, it was Ashley trying to get him to take responsibility for the actions he took supposedly for her own sake, so she knew it was for her- to make her happy.

It qualifies more for the first symptom, with that in mind, but she never, ever deviates from viewing him as her favorite person. She doesn't split. She just wants him to take responsibility so she knows that he actually cares.

-Markedly disturbed sense of identity and distorted self-image

Her self image is absolutely distorted. She's been viewed as worthless from the start of her life, and never got along with any friends or family. But her self-image is also remarkably consistent- she has a firm idea in her mind of who she is and never starts to deviate from it until, arguably, the end of the Burial route.

-Impulsive or reckless behaviors Yes.

-Recurrent suicidal ideation or self harm

Nope. She arguably has the strongest self-preservation instincts in the whole story, and despite her viewing herself as worthless, never once actually wants to die.

-Rapidly shifting intense emotional dysregulation -Inappropriate, intense anger that can be difficult to control

These ones are a bit iffy. The scene wherein she yells at Andrew for not taking responsibility for killing Nina and the 302 lady arguably qualifies as this. But this is the only such example of it in the story. Otherwise, she's in remarkable control of her own emotions, and all her worries over Andrew abandoning her are met with confusion more than an immediate, powerful emotional response.

-Chronic feelings of emptiness Yeah.

-Transient, stress-related paranoid or severe dissociative symptoms No. She displays no dissociative symptoms whatsoever and she only ever grows slightly paranoid when she sees the shift in Andrew's personality.

So, let's go over her symptoms that she unambigously has: -Chronic feelings of emptiness -Impulsive or reckless behaviors

And the ones she PARTLY qualifies for: -Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment (key word here is frantic, else she'd fully qualify) -Unstable and chaotic interpersonal relationships, often characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation, also known as "splitting" (she doesn't split Andrew)

The BIG maybes: -Inappropriate, intense anger that can be difficult to control (only two such examples of that in the story) -Rapidly shifting intense emotional dysregulation -Markedly disturbed sense of identity and distorted self-image (her sense of self image is distorted, but her sense of identity is not disturbed; it's remarkably consistent)

You need five of these symptoms to qualify for a diagnosis. Ashley unambiguously meets two, partly qualifies for two, and the rest are either BIG maybes or flat out nos.

In other words, for people who view BPD as The Cause, she does not qualify for having the disorder. Sorry, armchair psych bros; this is your L.

…are they gone yet?

Good!

As I'm sure most people reading this who see themselves in these characters have come to realize, diagnosis is mostly full of shit. And for those who have actually studied the field of psychology beyond a few random-ass articles they looked up while trying to find out why their ex or mom was so crazy, or a single college psych course, they might find my above summation to be lacking. Questionable. Even, problematic!

Well, congrats, because now I'm going to level with you about what this essay is actually about. If you understand what personality disorders are, you'd know that they are rarely the cause of anything. They're not like diseases in that they 'cause' anything; they're just words we use to describe a set of symptoms that each have their own individual causes. And while there's a lot of buzz in some circles about the heritability of personality disorders, the fact of the matter is that there is currently very, very little evidence that they're genetic. (https://www.apa.org/topics/personality-disorders/causes)

The patterns emerge early, sure, but there is no gene for a personality disorder*. It's not, and never was, how they were always like. Nobody is doomed to develop one. They are merely born with a series of traits that might predispose them to it. By their very nature, they possess no explanatory power for behavior whatsoever. Ashley is not "like this because she has BPD," she's "she has BPD because she's like this." And this is at the core of why I'm uncomfortable with attaching a personality disorder to her.

*A malfunctioning gene has been linked to OCD, however, but even in that case it's not a gene that defines someone as OCD, because it's linked to other conditions as well such as autism, social phobias, and substance use disorders. It's merely one of the many preconditions someone may have that could lead them to developing it. https://www.nature.com/articles/4001365

There's an old meme about trans people having BPD. I don't know if that's still a popular meme, but it was, in fact, a strong association that us in the trans community had. A way we stereotyped ourselves, as it may. And it's a pretty funny meme! Bonding over mutual trauma is always a fun time. But. I don't like that meme, either, for the same reason I don't like it for Ashley or Andrew.

I don't think medicalizing personality is a good thing.

For trans people, the fact of the matter is, we have every reason to develop BPD. The world really is that hostile towards us. Coming out can make friends drop us on a whim, transitioning makes it hard to develop lasting relationships because there's always that fear of people sexualizing us and never wanting a real, close, romantic relationship to begin with.

It's not disordered. It's not a condition. It's not a "problem".

It's a perfectly rational reaction to the world around us.

We have every reason to be so afraid. It'd make less sense if we weren't. And we have every reason to view every sign someone might leave as a sign that people never cared to begin with, because we have seen so many people who never HAVE really cared about us show their whole ass once we're a little bit different than they expected us to be. The same applies to cis women, too; it's why they're diagnosed with BPD three times as much as cis men are!

And I honestly think Ashley's reactions are much the same. She was denied the benefits of the social contract her whole life, abandoned by her parents and "friends," and only ever had Andrew, who gives every indication that he's trying to distance himself from her for the sake of being normal. He refuses to give her the validation she needs to think otherwise, always making it seem conditional or coming with a caveat, and tries to pass off the responsibility for all the actions that'd prove how much he cares for her.

And, ah, Andrew, goodness gracious. I've seen so many different takes on what's up with him that it boggles the mind. It's hard to pick out just one, but ASPD is a pretty common one. But I honestly think that's even more questionable than Ashley having BPD. Like, yeah, he's mostly afraid of consequences rather than the morality of his actions, but that's because his Prime Directive is to keep Ashley safe. Any consequences necessarily separate them. And the fact that he's so willing to kill, so cold and emotionless while doing it, so emotionless after? Once more, it's his job to keep Ashley safe; to keep her happy. But society won't let him take credit. It pushes back against him taking responsibility and acknowledging just how much he wants to- and has- done for her.

He always has to distance himself from how he truly feels, lest society punish him. He's had to distance himself from his true feelings so much that it's little wonder he has any attachment to them at all anymore. Violence is the only power he's ever had, because it's the only thing society never pushed back on, and it's the only thing many of the viewers never push back on. It's how he distances himself from the things that hurt him, which is either Ashley, or the people who keep him away from Ashley. … But only one of those things ever truly made him happy, and it just happens to be the one that society doesn't accept.

Andrew isn't like this because he has ASPD. Andrew has ASPD because he's like this.

It's the effect, not the cause.

The cause is the world around him; the world around Ashley.

Medicalizing something implies the issue is internal. It implies it's something we can fix from within ourselves. And, at worst, it implies that it's our fault. We should take responsibility for maladaptive behaviors, sure. We absolutely should, if only for our own sakes, lest we push people away through no fault of their own. We should do what we can to not hurt people, every step of the way. That is on us.

But there's only so much we can do when the world around us constantly reaffirms our greatest fears.

And that's exactly what the world does to the marginalized.

#andrew graves #ashley graves #the coffin of andy and leyley #gaming #tcoaal #tcoaal essay #essay

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spitdrunken · 2 years

Note

thank you so much for all the rollo content,, highlight of my days, really.. for yan alphabet L, I, H and X? think X will depend quite a bit on whether reader is a mage or not tbh. rather than a sense of worship he’d feel like he’s saving them lol

notes: yandere

i’m glad you’ve been enjoying it :D!! i really like writing for rollo myself <3 a lot of my headcanons differ from mage vs. magicless reader, so honestly it’s always a bit hard to balance them HAHA i tend to focus mostly on magicless reader since mc is one, and otherwise i’d be writing two sets of headcanons for every post. pls feel free to ask for stuff with mage reader tho :3!!

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Rollo likes to think of a calm and simple future with you. In a world without magic, where no one will be senselessly harmed any longer, and he’s found peace within himself. After he’s fulfilled his ultimate goal, what more could he hope to achieve with his life? The rest of his days, he could devote to you, and never grow bored of it. He doesn’t want extravagance or excitement, just you would be enough. In his fantasies, neither of you ever has to work or leaves to meet with friends. It’s just the two of you.

More specifically, he imagines a small, happy wedding, with one chair left empty for his little brother. He imagines living in a small home in the City of Flowers, or a cottage in walking distance from the city walls; he could never go far from his beloved city. Rollo enjoys the thought of himself baking for you, though whatever he makes will likely pale in comparison to the bakeries he loves so much.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Rollo yearns for quite a while, as he believes his personal feelings shouldn’t take precedence over his goal. None of this is your fault, and he is not upset with you for it. As his plans begin to fall more and more into place, he may be more likely to approach you. Before that, he still watches you whenever he has the chance, and zones out if you’re in his field of vision. He has extensive notes on you, your likes and dislikes, your family tree, and all of your social connections. If he’s particularly smitten, you could find yourself having a ‘secret admirer’, leaving letters in flawless handwriting accompanied by a croissant or some local sweets.

Once he finally makes up his mind to approach you, he can hardly contain himself. His hands are folded behind his back, otherwise you would see how much he’s fidgeting. Rollo’s face is as calm as it would be at any other time. If not for the blush creeping onto his face, you wouldn’t be able to tell anything was amiss.

“May I have a moment of your time?” He would say, lightly bowing his head. Rollo would ask you out on a date, or an ‘outing’ as he calls it, promising to show you all of the beauty the city has to offer, and ensuring you’ll enjoy yourself.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Sweat beads on your forehead, despite your distance from the fire. Rollo is pressed against your back as he leans his full weight against you, his chest stuttering with how fast he’s breathing. He’s clutching the railing so tightly that his knuckles are white. Below you, the world has descended into a hellscape of flames, yelling, and raw desperation. Some of them are your friends, and some of them you might not have known as well, but still- You cannot believe they were deserving of this fate. He presses his face against you. Rollo is shaking all over, and so does his voice.

“As foolish as they are... These villains’ salvation is truly a beautiful sight to behold, isn’t it?”

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

You are different from him. Where he is inherently cursed, burdened by magic, you are pure and clean existence. The sinner, and the saint, extending their hand to him in their endless mercy. Though he wouldn’t go as far as to directly worship you, he very much considers you as more valuable and worthy than himself. Even once he is fully ‘cleansed’, he’d continue to be hard on himself when it comes to you. He takes your opinion of him very, very seriously.

If you were to deny him, you would really be putting him in a tough position. Rollo feels guilty about placing the burden of his feelings on you, but he can’t rid himself of them either. You’ve rooted yourself in his mind, and he cannot get you out. He would try to become friends with you instead, trying to convince himself that it would be enough, all the while lying to himself. Rollo would constantly be teetering on the edge of giving in. There would come a moment he would snap and give into temptation, apologising while he does so and forever cursing himself, but secretly being glad to finally being able to touch you.

#cha.rollo #yandere #rollo flamm x reader #rollo flamme x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere rollo flamm x reader #yandere rollo flamme x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader

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mlove44lh · 1 year

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Don´t hurt yourself

Chaprter 4 - Apathy

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: mention of cheating, angst, swearing, mention of miscarriage, mention of blood and hospital, alcohol use. This chapther it may be triggering for some people

Words: 4.337

“So what are you gonna say at my funeral, now that you've killed me? Here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children, both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted. Most bomb p*ssy who, because of me, sleep evaded. Her god listening. Her heaven will be a love without betrayal.

Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks.”

August

"The physical pain is a gentle breeze compared to the emotional pain that engulfs me now. The contractions still echo through my body like violent waves, and tears continue to stream down my face. But none of this compares to the tightness I feel in my chest. The image of what happened before still haunts my mind like a nightmare that won't go away.

It lasted so little, I didn't even have a chance to know him, to hear his voice, admire his eyes, feel his warmth against mine. I will never know which one of us he would have resembled more. My dearest dream has turned into a nightmare.

They promised me that this would be the last exam, just to make sure I don't have any residue left inside me.

"Residue". That's what he became.

I go through all the procedures while being completely on autopilot, I no longer care where they take me, the smell of ether is already ingrained in me and everything seems like a loop of the same thing. Doctors come and go from my field of vision, their voices distant as if they were whispers.

A lot of blood lost, they said.

I think of Lewis, I think I saw him this morning, but I'm not sure, dreams are becoming more and more similar to reality. I don't know if I can trust my mind.

"Mrs. Hamilton? Do you hear me?"

The doctor stares at me, even though he is close, the sound of his voice feels like it's coming from miles away. I try to focus on the moment but it's almost impossible.

"We can search for treatments for your condition, but for now, the best course of action would be for you to refrain from attempting a new pregnancy. So that we can investigate and make the best decision before proceeding with anything else." He pauses before continuing, perhaps waiting for a question. I must have a million of them, but I can't even manage to utter my own name now. “I will call your husband, if everything goes well, you'll be discharged by morning. I'll be around if you need me.”

I watch him leave the room, the hole in my chest makes me feel absolutely nothing, which ends up being more comforting than the suffering I felt when I came across all that blood. I go back to staring at the white ceiling and hope this all passes soon.”

There is nothing more exhausting than loving for two.

I look at the diamond that even after six years, still shines brightly on my ring finger. It would be so much easier if there was no love, but it seems like love was the only thing that remained, even if only on one side.

Everything else has gone away; happiness, respect, attention. The only thing that remains will be the hardest to let go, love.

How does she look through the eyes of my husband? How does he see her? Certainly very different from me, certainly much better than me.

I don't know if I want to forgive him for what he did, but I also don't want to regret not having tried to fight for us both. Forgiving him would mean accepting what happened and trying to move forward together. On the other hand, moving forward without him would mean trying to heal on my own and leaving him behind.

But I don't want to be alone, and I don't want to lose him, even though the feeling that dominates me now is that I have been alone for much longer than I thought.

I stare at the cold coffee on my table, I thought I'd be rested and that I'd be able to think more clearly after a night of sleep, but I couldn't sleep for even a minute, and today things seem even more confusing and painful than yesterday.

"I don't think you should ask for a divorce"

"What?!"

"Put an end to this and move on."

I stare at the woman sitting in front of me as if she had just said the most absurd thing in the world. And it really sounded that way.

“Can't you see the state I am in right now?”

“Yes, your sadness today is clear to me. Just like your happiness almost blinded me during these seven years.”

The cafeteria is more crowded than usual, people are moving back and forth, most seem late for appointments. Emma and I are the contrast to these people, we've been sitting for hours, and many of those minutes have been spent in complete silence. For some reason she was the person I called as soon as I woke up from the worst night of my life.

Emma became practically my confidante over the years. I met her shortly after moving to Monaco, on the first day of my new job. She has always been kind, always seemed to understand me, and it didn't take long for her to become more than just a work colleague. Even after leaving the company after a few years, I didn't stop keeping in touch with her.

I know she has been married for over 30 years, and I also know that she is a very intelligent woman. So it made sense to me to arrange this meeting.

"Have you been through this?”

She says with such certainty that I should forgive him that it's almost like a confession.

“I've been married for thirty-two years. What do you think?"

"And was it like that? Did you just forgive him?”

“No. It was a lot of struggle, we almost gave up.”

“What happened?”

“I was pregnant when he told me he was in love with someone else and wanted to leave me. Can you imagine that?"

Emma is one of the sweetest people I know. Imagining her going through that makes me even more disturbed.

“How did I not know about this?”

“No one knows about it. I promised myself I wouldn't tell a soul.”

“Why are you telling me now?"

"Because you need to.” The woman continues to stare at me as she takes a small sip of her cappuccino. “No one can make the decision for you. But know that if you take him back, you will have to forget what happened and never bring it up again. On the other hand, you can achieve so much more together.”

I rest my head in my hands. I thought this conversation would bring clarity, but I'm even more confused now.

"I don't know, Emma. It's so complicated.”

"It's not easy, Y/n. It's a marriage, everything requires sacrifices. And sometimes those sacrifices are our principles. But if you love each other and want to give it another try, the rest can be fixed."

The thoughts and possibilities rush through me so quickly that I can't focus on just one. I promised myself I wouldn't go through this, but experiencing it firsthand, it's much more complex than I imagined. It's not just a simple 'yes' or 'no'. What's at stake is much bigger.

"Why don't you go out with some friends? It'll help clear your mind. Sometimes a hangover makes us think better about life."

I chuckle at your unusual request.

"I don't think that's a good idea. I'm exhausted."

"Staying in this spiral of sadness and doubt that he put you in won't help you, that I know."

I look at the woman in front of me for a few seconds, but I don't respond to her. The idea doesn't sound as absurd as it did seconds ago, but I don't think my exhaustion and melancholy would allow me to do something like that.

The woman gives me a kind smile, but I can sense pity in her gaze, which only makes me feel more ashamed and guilty.

"I need to go now," she says.

Emma gets up and grabs her coat, and I do the same.

"Thank you for listening to me.”

"You're welcome. You know I'm here for you anytime.”

As we leave the coffee shop, I feel the cold wind of the day wrapping around me. I put on my coat before turning to the woman one last time. Emma pulls me into a hug that I wasn't expecting, but I nestle into her arms, grateful for the chance to see her and for her willingness to help me.

"You'll know what to do when the time is right. And know that you'll never be alone, no matter what decision you make," her voice comes out softly in the midst of our embrace.

"Thank you so much," I say.

We part, and Emma continues to look at me for a moment before she starts to move. I watch her leave the street as she walks away calmly.

I get into the G-Wagon parked in front of the café, and I spend a few minutes staring at the steering wheel in my hands. I don't feel like going home. Even though he's not there, the idea of being surrounded by his things and his scent makes me anxious.

I look around the car and can visualize him in the passenger seat, with his mischievous smile and sparkling eyes. I remember how we used to travel together, planning adventures and sharing laughter along the way. Now, everything feels different.

I left everything behind to come here, to rebuild my life by his side. I faced different people, different cultures, a different language, but I had him by my side, so I didn't mind the barriers I encountered. Because I knew everything would be okay as long as I was with him. I've never regretted leaving what I left behind, even though I left a lot.

I contemplate before reaching for my bag and taking out my phone.I skip through all the unread messages from Lewis and go to her name in my contacts list. I feel anxious as I wait for the call to be answered.

The amber liquid goes down my throat, burning, but it burns less than the last shot seconds ago.

I slam the glass back on the round table and pop the small slice of lemon into my mouth, feeling the sour taste cut through the burning sensation of the drink.

I've lost count of how many of these I've had already. But I don't care about drinking too much now, because for the first time in weeks, I don't feel as suffocated.

I could become an alcoholic if it meant finding some peace from my own thoughts.

I reach for my phone inside my bag and stare at the lock screen. The small icon of his photo stares back at me.

“35 New messages”

Since yesterday they haven't stopped coming. I haven't responded to our conversation, but I can still read the messages. A mix of “please” and “let's talk” and a bunch of other things that make me want to drink even more.

Alessia sits back in front of me after returning from the bar with a drink in her hand. She notices my serious expression and looks at me with attentive eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what happened now?" She asks, leaning towards me.

The busy bar isn't too far from Alessia's place, and the bustle around us are louder than I'd prefer. The piano music plays softly, and despite the chatter of people, I can still hear Alessia's words clearly. Ever since we met at this bar, Alessia has been trying to get out of me what she knows is wrong.

She knows me very well. Too well, I would say. It would be impossible to keep something as significant as this a secret from her, but I don't want to have to talk about it at the only time I can deceive myself and pretend it's not happening.

"It's complicated. I don't think here is the right time or place. I just want to be able to drink with my best friend tonight."

Alessia tilts her head, studying me intently. She knows I'm avoiding it, but she's also familiar with my stubbornness.

"Okay. But you're going to have to talk to me sooner or later."

I nod at her as I put my phone back in my bag.

"Tell me. How are the preparations for the move going?" I ask her.

I try to shift the topic of conversation, and fortunately, I succeed. Alessia's eyes light up when I mention my curiosity.

"An organized mess." She responds with a smile. "Everything is in chaos in the gallery, with boxes everywhere. I'm moving just a few blocks away but it feels like I'm moving to another country with so much to do. But I'm really glad I got that spot."

I can't help but smile as I listen to her. I know how much she's been looking forward to this moment, and her joy is contagious.

"The location is perfect, it will help a lot with business.”

"Well, I hope so. This effort has to be worth something. At least it's almost over."

"Do you already have the opening date?"

She nods as she takes a sip of her drink.

"I organized the inauguration cocktail even before starting the move." I chuckle with her. "It's going to be on Saturday. So make sure to arrange to go."

"Of course, I will."

The conversation with Alessia flows for a few more minutes as we share laughs and more drinks.

I'm already feeling buzzed, but the more we talk and drink, the calmer I feel. We're immersed in our conversation when the waiter suddenly approaches, placing an elegant glass on the table in front of me. The transparent liquid inside the glass shines under the soft bar light.

"A dry martini for the lady," the waiter says with a smile, pushing the glass towards me.

"I didn't order that." I say to the waiter, looking confused.

The waiter points to a man sitting at one of the high stools at the bar, who looks our way and raises his whisky glass in a suggestive gesture. He appears to be in his early thirties, with dark hair and a mischievous smile on his face.

"It was the gentleman at the bar who ordered it for you," the waiter explains before walking away.

I look back at the man in the bar, surprised, as he gazes at me with a confident look. He raises his whisky glass in a suggestive toast.

Alessia glances at the man and then turns her inquisitive gaze back to me, clearly confused about what's happening. I shrug and take a sip of the drink, trying to appear indifferent. The bitter taste of the drink mixed with the sensation of the ice in my mouth makes me realize that it's a well-made martini.

“Jesus, either he didn't notice this giant diamond on your finger, or he's confident enough to be an asshole.”

“Maybe he's just curious.”

She looks at me and just by her expression, I can decipher her thoughts. On a normal day, I would decline the drink, send it back, not touch it, or do something like that. But today, I just accepted it willingly, with a smile on my face, from the stranger who bought me an unrequested drink. So I understand the reason for her confusion in her expression.

Alessia is a smart woman who knows me well. I can almost hear the moment when it clicks for her. But she doesn't say anything, just shakes her head negatively.

“What's wrong? Why are you looking at me as if accepting the drink was a crime?”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You don't need to say anything with that look.”

She laughs.

“I just wasn't expecting that reaction, but whatever.”

The sound of Alessia's cellphone interrupts us, she reaches for her phone in her bag, rolling her eyes as she looks at the screen.

"Oh my God, they really can't do anything without me in that place," she says, getting up from her chair and preparing to move away. "Give me a minute, I need to take this call before the gallery catches fire or something."

"Sure," I say, chuckling as I watch Alessia walk away from the table until she's out of sight.

I turn my gaze back to the man who is still watching me, a small smile on his lips. His desire is evident, but my interest in him is as nonexistent as my desire for a dry martini tonight.

But I accept the drink, and now I gaze at the man with curiosity. Not because I want anything with him, but because I wonder what it would take for me to do to Lewis what he did to me. Definitely much more than an attractive man buying me a drink. I still know this, even though I'm angry and drunk to the point of not thinking about how it would further affect my situation.

I hate this stranger for making me go back to thinking about Lewis when I was managing to deceive myself so well for a few minutes.

I watch the man get up from his seat and slowly walk towards me. I don't know why he thought he was entitled to all these actions, and I have no interest in talking to him now, but I still don't move to stop him. I stay in my seat with my eyes fixed on him, waiting to see what will happen.

His posture is impeccable, and he seems to be over 6 feet tall. His suit is flawless, and the watch on his wrist looks expensive. He is an attractive man for more than just these things. But even so, I couldn't be less interested.

"I've been trying to choose a drink for you for a while." He says as he gets close enough.

"And what made you think a dry martini would be a good idea?"

"It's an elegant drink, and you seem like a very elegant woman, so it made sense." He smiles.

"Thank you." I smile back at him.

"I'm Henry," he says, extending his hand, expecting a handshake.

"Y/n." I say, extending my left hand to him. He looks at it while shaking it. The ring on my finger is not something that would go unnoticed, especially to someone interested in flirting with me. But that realization doesn't stop him from being here, with the same smile and the same posture.

"So, did I make the right choice?" he asks.

My drunkenness and thoughts make me take a few seconds to realize he's talking about the drink he sent me.

"Well, to be honest, that wouldn't have been my first choice," I laugh nervously. "I prefer something sweeter. But thank you, it was very kind of you."

The unwavering smile remains on his face. Meanwhile, I struggle to maintain minimal eye contact. Regret and anxiety flood me for having accepted the drink and not having avoided the conversation.

"Let me buy you another drink then, one that you like this time," he laughs. "I'm staying at the hotel across the street and maybe we could continue the night there..."

"I'm married," I say, hoping to make the man realize my lack of interest and leave. But that's not what happens.

"I noticed," he says, seemingly unfazed. "But you accepted the drink, so I didn't think it would be an issue."

He says it as if it were a simple math equation, as if it were obvious that I would want to sleep with him in exchange for a fucking dry martini, even though I'm married.

At least I have the answer for Alessia: he saw my ring and has enough confidence to be an asshole.

I don't respond to him immediately. I just stare at the man in front of me, trying to process the audacity of someone making such a crude assumption.

“Is everything okay?” I feel Alessia's hands on my back. She says to me as she glares at him, there is clear anger in her features directed at the man.

"Thanks for the drink," I say as I grab my purse and stand up from the table. I have to concentrate when I put my feet on the floor so I don't end up falling due to drunkenness.

I walk to the exit of the bar and head towards Alessia's car, which is parked a few meters from the front of the place. I hear her footsteps behind me.

"What happened?" she asks.

My heart is racing, and I don't even know why. What happened in there wasn't anything that hadn't happened before, but for some reason, it affected me to the point of wanting to cry. I didn't realize it would be such a big trigger for me.

"Nothing. I just..."

And then it happens. What has been pent up finally surfaces, and I burst into tears. The wave of emotion is so overwhelming that I can barely stay on my feet. I know there are people outside the bar staring at me now, but I couldn't hold it back even if I tried.

In an attempt to have more privacy, Alessia retrieves her car key from her purse, unlocks the passenger door, and guides me inside. She doesn't say anything, but holds my hand and waits for me to calm down.

I know my sobs echo through the car, but I couldn't keep them down even if I tried. I denied myself this feeling, and I knew it would take over me sooner or later.

I don't know how much time passes there. I am silently embraced by my best friend, who holds my hand firmly as if she feels that I might slip away at any moment.

"He cheated on me," the words come out between sobs. I watch her posture change beside me. "In September, Alessia."

"Son of a bitch," she whispers, and I'm not sure if it's directed at me or herself.

"I thought nothing was wrong. He was distant, but after everything, it was normal for that to happen," I break my gaze from Alessia and look down at our connected hands. "But then I found a fucking bracelet in his car. And a few days later, I found out who it belonged to."

"Did you talk to him?” Her voice is low, as if she's not sure if asking me something like that would be helpful or not in my situation.

I nodded at her before continuing to speak.

"I saw her, Alessia. I looked into her eyes while she confirmed to me that she was with my husband. I've never felt so ugly, ridiculous, and humiliated in my life."

I give myself a few seconds to try to calm down, but every time I start speaking again, the tears and despair come flooding back.

"He told me that I was distant, that I changed after the diagnosis. He tried to justify what he did" I say, feeling Alessia's hand gripping mine tightly, providing comfort. "I don't know what to do now."

I look back at her, and I can see the emotion in her eyes.

"You know what to do, Y/n. Look at yourself now, if this isn't a cry for help, I don't know what is. The only problem is that the only person who can get you out of this is yourself."

She pulls me into a tight hug, and we stay like that for some time.

"I'm so sorry. Truly, deeply sorry," She say, pulling away from the hug, but Alessia stays close to me. "I swear, I could kill him right now."

"I know," I manage to smile through my tears. "But I don't think that would solve much."

Alessia backs away from me when she realizes I have calmed down, and she starts the car.

"You can stay at my place as long as you want," she says, releasing the handbrake and preparing to drive out of the parking spot.

"No. I want to go home," I reply.

Alessia looks back at me.

"Y/n, I don't think it's a good idea. Stay with me for a few days, try to think about it away from him,"

"No, I don't want to run away. I shouldn't have even left home today." She keeps staring at me with the steering wheel in her hands. "Please, I need this."

Alessia looks at me for a few seconds before sighing in defeat.

"Alright."

The drive home isn't long. I try to calm down during the journey, but the closer we get, the more I feel the urge to turn back. I know I have to resolve this situation and make a decision soon, but I'm afraid of saying goodbye to the only good thing I've ever had in my life.

Author's notes: Thanks for your patience in waiting until now, and... CHAPTER 5 IS OUT NOW! GO, GO, GO!!

Taglist:

@slafgoalskybaby, @justanormalfangirlsworld, @ravenqueen27, @nakamotosmoron, @supersanelyromantic, @maryseesthings, @bebesobrielo, @tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden, @bbhyunee, @missamericana69, @thotsposts.

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#au fanfiction #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton angst #angst fanfic

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snezus-christ-risen · 5 months

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I am both pleased and ashamed to debut my En//canto fixation (and primary source of dopamine) to the world. About a month ago, after having watched the movie for the forty-eighth time (#momlife), a thought crept into my mind later that night (and I’m blaming the edible for this one): has anyone ever made this Bruno guy sneeze? I knew from the moment I took to Google to find out that I was already in too deep. So I wrote a little something myself, for myself. Part II to follow if this hyper fixation doesn’t burn out and die before I get around to finishing it.

Stubborn Things, Part I - Aperitivos

(Part II - https://www.tumblr.com/snezus-christ-risen/748150063515287552/back-blessed)

Colds were stubborn things. Notoriously incurable, it’s only natural that they would pose a challenge to the woman who could heal almost anything. To Julieta, almost anything was an evasive mental itch, a thorn in her side, one elusive combination of ingredients away from becoming everything. What did it matter how many bones or tendons she could mend if she couldn’t even conquer the sniffles?

Julieta was a stubborn thing, too (and maybe, maybe a bit of a perfectionist). She resolved to solve this puzzle if it took the rest of her life. But that was, God willing, quite a few years yet. Her brother was sick now.

Ay, Bruno. Su conejito extraño. He was another thorn in her side (but how she’d missed him so!). So much like her Augustín at times that it was alarming, except Bruno’s chaos was more… deliberate, governed not by butterfingers and left feet, but a seemingly insatiable drive to push himself past his breaking point as often as possible. Despite having developed a robust immunity to most things (owed, in part, to a lifetime of keeping close company with rats), he was particularly susceptible to catching colds. Naturally, this made him the perfect lab rat for his sister’s culinary experiments. Julieta wouldn’t deny that she subjected him to a lot over the years, but nobody ever claimed the field of medicine was without its sacrifices.

Bruno was late to breakfast that morning, which was unusual. Since his return, he was always the first one at the table, so eager he was to make up for lost time with his family. Alma was in the middle of asking Antonio to go check on his tío when her son shuffled in, looking just as pale and tired as he did when he first emerged from the walls. Not that he ever looked particularly healthy. Coupled with the fact that his visions were known to sap his stamina, nobody thought to question his appearance. Bruno quietly apologized for his tardiness, then sat down at the table and cleared his throat a few times, covering up the sound of his fist knocking against his chair. Julieta heard a hint of something in his voice, something that kept drawing her attention back to him as the meal progressed.

Only a few minutes had passed before he scraped his chair away from the table, burying his face in the sleeve of his ruana to stifle a volley of sneezes. A pair of rats dropped to the floor before scurrying away. The conversations around the table ceased abruptly, giving way to stares and scattered blessings. Bruno sniffled, withering under his family’s collective acknowledgement.

“Sorry! Sorry…” It was unclear if he was apologizing to them or his rats.

Camilo resumed (or perhaps never stopped) his reenactment of the argument he had witnessed at the market that morning, talking quickly and switching rapidly between faces in a way that reminded Julieta of cards being shuffled. Her nephew had been so eager to share what he saw that nothing else seemed to register for him. She flicked her gaze back to Bruno as he returned to the table, looking upset with himself for having interrupted. He reached instinctively for the salt cellar, but then met his mother’s eyes and withdrew his hand as if from a flame. It swung around to grip at his left arm instead. Julieta recognized this as a self-soothing gesture, except this time Bruno’s fingers were digging into his arm.

“Are you feeling okay, tío?” Dolores asked, having lost interest in her brother’s story a long time ago. “You’ve been sneezing all morning.”

Bruno shot Dolores a look of betrayal so dramatic he could have been performing a scene from one of his telenovelas. While he was distracted, Julieta seized the opportunity to reach across the table for his forehead. “Are you getting sick, manito?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bruno said, dodging her hand and sliding down in his chair. He started to pull his hood up, but when Alma cleared her throat in disapproval he yanked it back down again, sitting up straighter. “Really, I feel great, I’m just, uh… still getting used to the air out here, you know.”

Nobody seemed convinced, least of all Bruno himself, but nobody challenged him, either. At least, not until he interrupted Alma during her morning rundown. He had just enough notice to stutter out a breathless apology and twist away from the table, crushing his fist against his nose. Julieta winced as he stifled two sneezes into silence without a breath in between. She kicked her brother under the table, frustrated by his stubbornness, and mouthed stop it. How many times did she - did they all have to tell him not to do that? Bruno blinked, looking dizzy and indignant at having been cheated out of his usual pattern of three sneezes. His retaliation efforts were less than successful; Julieta saw him bite his lip to hold back a curse as his foot struck the leg of the table instead of her own.

Alma, wearing an impassive expression, cleared her throat and waited patiently for her grown children to settle. While Bruno was preoccupied with his body’s latest betrayal, she casually brushed his curls back from his forehead to rest her hand there. He looked at her in stunned silence, breathing more quickly than usual through slightly parted lips.

“Bruno is unwell,” she stated matter-of-factly as she withdrew her hand, then held it up to cut off his objection. “He will remain in Casita today so he can rest.”

Julieta was surprised; Bruno actually had a few appointments lined up for this morning. Their mother never used to let something like a cold get in the way of her family’s obligations to the town. They were all still getting used to this new Alma, who, while not perfect, was learning to see the benefits of resting and recovering over crashing and burning. Julieta sat up a little straighter, wondering how much further she could push their luck.

“Mamá, if it would be alright-” she began, and Bruno, apparently aware of where this was going, started shaking his head.

“Uh, no, nope, not uh,” he said, rapping his fist against the table with each syllable.

“-I’d like to stay here too and test out some new recipes-”

Bruno continued to shake his head. Julieta closed her mouth and frowned, genuinely wounded by his fervent refusal. “Do you have so little faith in me?” she asked, and that was all it took for his protests to melt into praise.

“Juli, you are incredible, and you know I know you can do anything, I’m just… .” He swallowed nervously as she eyed his untouched plate. “Full? So full. I, uh, ate earlier, you know, I’m still getting used to the new schedule, well, I guess the old schedule, and besides, and most importantly, I’m not sick, so it would b-be a w-waste to… heh!”

Julieta prided herself on being the most mature of her siblings, but something about Bruno always called her inner child out to play. She just couldn’t resist the urge to tease when the opportunities presented themselves. Catching a glimpse of Pepa across the table, smirking as their brother’s breath hitched helplessly, only egged her on further. “Perdona, a waste to what?” Julieta asked, fully aware that providing clarification in his current state would pose a challenge.

He surprised her by squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath before forcing it back into a steady rhythm. She had never seen him do that before - a technique he learned living in the walls, perhaps? Had he been doing that for the last ten years to avoid detection? Julieta was impressed with his self-control, but she could imagine how unsatisfying it must have felt to deny his body something it desperately needed to do. Bruno didn’t look like he was going to sneeze anymore, but he did look ten times more miserable than before.

“Disculpe…” He sighed it more than spoke it, then sniffled again, wincing at how wet it sounded. “I forgot what I was saying.”

“Ay, mijo.” Alma passed him her unused napkin before waving her hand at him, directing him to turn away from the table and blow his nose. She then turned to Julieta. “You will stay with your brother today and see what you can do. I’m sure Mirabel would be happy to bring your food into town. We have those new herbs that Isabela grew. Perhaps they’ll do the trick for your…” She paused as Bruno blew his nose, then looked at him pointedly. “… purposes, today.”

He gave a little cough as he crumpled the napkin in his lap. “I suppose I don’t get a say in any of this.”

Julieta shook her head and he huffed out a sigh, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. He seemed resigned to his fate. Good. That would make things go a lot more smoothly for the both of them.

#why does my lesbian ass keep falling for these twerps #his sisters are hot hot hot and yet I torture him #they’ll have their turns soon enough #sneezefic #male sneezing #cold sneezing #en//canto #I wish I was clever enough to come up with a phrase like melon felon but for people who go bonkers for big honkers #sorry I said honkers but the rhyme was right there

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