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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months ago

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please don't say you love me

in which fwb!spencer reid and fem!reader get into an argument about the nature of their relationship.

18+ (implied intimacy) warnings/tags: friends with benefits arrangement, it goes bad, reader is so clearly anxious avoidant, reader is so me-coded, self-loathing, difficulties with emotional intimacy, arguing, derek and penelope make an appearance woo, a little dramatic, no happy ending (a nereidprinc3ss first!) a/n: it happened guys I stopped writing for a few days and last night randomly was inspired to finish this fwb piece and it essentially turned into a vent and went a completely different direction than i thought it would but here we are!!! i hope you enjoy, I loved writing, ilysm

“Are you reading it? Did you get to the part yet?” You ask, buzzing as you peer around Spencer’s arm to see where he’s at in the book you’d handed him. Sometimes you think it takes him longer to flip the pages than to read them.

He doesn’t answer, but you see the flickering quirk of his lip like something is amusing him. It’s been a few minutes and he’s maybe halfway through. He has to have seen it by now.

You’re clinging to his arm, eyes darting pointlessly between the text and his face, searching for a reaction. It comes in the form of a furrowed brow, a disbelieving smile, and something between a barking laugh and an exclamation of, “what?”

“You read it?”

His eyes narrow and he flips back a page, taking a bit longer to reevaluate.

“Our moans and grunts drowned out the screams of the dead and dying only a few hundred feet away.”

You giggle furiously, clapping a hand to your mouth when you snort, and you feel Spencer’s focus shifting to you, even with your eyes screwed shut.

“And you read this whole series?”

At that you sober up some, still hiding the bottom half of your face and brows drawn sorrowfully as mirthful tears well. You’re slow to admit your guilt with a nod, and his expression is somewhere between horror and fascination.

Your cheeks heat and you cover your face, laughing again and shaking your head shamefully as he ridicules you.

“Why? Why would you do that to yourself? I don’t even know if I can be seen in public with you, that’s—” he’s haphazardly tossed the book back on its display table and grabbed your wrists, pulling gently and laughing too. “No, show me your face. This is—you need to explain yourself. This is unforgivable.”

“No! I swear it was a morbid curiosity, I didn’t like it, I’m sorry! I—”

“Reid?”

You both freeze.

It’s not the most dignified position, admittedly—hidden among the shelves in a bookstore, pressed too close to be friendly, his hands around your wrists.

So you don’t mind when he drops them like hot potatoes and gives you a few inches of breathing room.

“Hey! Uh—you’re—”

Spencer is looking between you and two other people at the end of the aisle—a quirky bespectacled blonde in a flouncy polka-dot dress and her taller companion, ripped and head shaved, sporting some impressive eyebrows. Right now they’re conspicuously raised—his eyes are also pinballing between you and Spencer.

For a moment, everyone is just sort of… looking at each other.

It’s a little bit… awful?

Finally Spencer clears his throat.

“Um, what are you guys doing here? Just… looking at books?”

Something is off, and you feel like shrinking or running, but you just stay glued to your spot.

In sync, they hold up copies of the same book—and it takes you not a second to place the author’s name, in imposing red font at the bottom like it’s important. Rossi.

The pieces click into place. These must be Spencer’s co-workers—Penelope and Derek, if his descriptions of the team have served you well. Part of you is starstruck. Part of you is embarrassed. They’re clearly shocked to see Spencer with a girl in the wild, so you know he hasn’t told them about you—and why should he, you think, why should he tell his friends about the girl he’s been sleeping with for months now?

Finally, the blonder half of the duo speaks.

“You’re—this is a girl. That’s. Who is that? Hi! Who are you?”

She’s literally pointing at you, eyes drifting between you and Spencer like it just doesn’t make any sense. Derek gives her a look and gently pushes her hand down.

“Hey. That’s enough.” Then he offers you a polite smile, though you sense a bit strained, and his eyes too keep wandering back to the man next to you. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no! You’re not… interrupting…” Spencer trails off and you sense he’s looking at you and gauging a reaction but you’re just smiling idly at his friends and waiting for this to be over. He finally thinks to introduce you by name, and you offer a shy wave and a smile to your new acquaintances.

Penelope points (that damn finger again) but this time it’s less accusatory, and stays below chin level.

“Cool shirt. I love that band,” she offers genially. Your brows raise and you look down, trying to remember what shirt you’d tossed on before leaving Spencer’s apartment an hour ago.

“Oh! Thanks,” you smile, and you’re relieved to mean it this time.

Another frosty silence begins to descend, but Derek doesn’t let it settle so much this time, to everyone’s satisfaction.

“Alright, well. It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your date.”

There’s too much weight on the last sentence, and Derek gives Spencer a eyebrows-raised-meaningfully look you don’t understand. You’re just glad Spencer keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t immediately insist that it’s not a date, because it’s not, and that’s fine, but the vehement denial would bum you out.

The pair walk away in the kind of clenched silence that means they’ll start fervently whispering as soon as they are out of ear shot. You watch their retreating figures and chew your lip, sensing that the carefree and playful energy of five minutes ago will have evaporated by the time you turn back to face your companion.

“Strange,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, and you’re slightly jarred when Spencer replies from beside you.

“Which part?”

All of it.

Turning to face him, you smile, and it doesn’t reach your eyes but it doesn’t need to.

“Oh—nothing, sorry.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, only stares at a point somewhere above your head and narrows his eyes like he’s thinking unpleasant thoughts.

“Was I an asshole, to you, just now?”

It’s unexpected. You don’t have an answer prepared, so you say something that feels like a lie because you can’t prove that it’s not the truth.

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I just… I don’t know. I get weird around them, sometimes. I don’t always know what to say, like, when my personal life and my work life intersect, because for a long time I didn’t really have a personal life. And I think they still think I don’t know how to talk to girls, so…”

“You don’t know how to talk to girls,” you remind him. “Let’s go look at the puzzles.”

Maybe you spend too much time with Spencer Reid. Maybe that’s the problem—too long in his presence and he’s eating away at your neural tissue like you’ve got cysticercosis and he’s the T. solium (a terrible thing he had explained to you a few weeks ago.)

Maybe you need a break from him, to stop breathing his air and sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothing, because you’re forgetting that he’s not the entire world and that is a very bad thing to forget in a situation like yours. The entire world cannot be the size of his apartment.

But you also just like him so much. As a friend, of course. That goes without saying. You like his strange sense of humor, and the way he lights up when you ask him an obscure question. You like your legs across his lap while you watch his old shows. You also like being kissed by him, and hugged by him. You like being taken care of like no one has ever taken care of you, and you like the way he always touches you, soft and kind and so on purpose.

You never meant to like him so much.

This affection—it has grown, insidious and parasitic, and now that it’s been pointed out to you like a lump in your side, it’s impossible to ignore.

What you and Spencer have works precisely because you’ve kept things platonic and casual. That way, there’s no worrying about emotional baggage or arguing about feelings because there are none to be found and no precedent that any such things should or need to occur. You can’t hurt each other’s feelings if your feelings aren’t on the table.

So why can’t you stop thinking about earlier?

Why can’t you help caring that he’s been keeping you a secret from the people he loves most?

“So, essentially the book is his first deep dive into meta-fiction. It was pretty revolutionary at the time, and while not his most celebrated novel, I’d argue it was his most relevant and culturally pervasive. I’d actually love to hear your interpretation of the story—it’s truly different for everyone. It’s a little like… like a literary Rorschach test. Do you wanna borrow it?”

You’re a tangle on his bed—arms, legs, sheets—it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins. All you’re sure of is his hand, tracing his fingers in chaste lines, feather-light up and down your inner thigh in the way he knows you like. Usually it’s so soothing you melt and fall asleep within minutes. Right now it’s only stoking some sparking electrical fire in your chest—the buzzes and bursts from which have you on edge. Ready to cave in at any second. You wish you could relax. You’ve been trying.

Spencer is in no hurry for you to respond, and so doesn’t seem to mind when it takes you a long while to find your answer.

“I think I need to go home.”

It comes out too scratchy, as you haven’t really spoken for several hours. Not as casual as you were going for. He angles his head down toward you and his hand stops and you realize it’s actually worse like that.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Everything is fine, I just… I wanna sleep in my own bed tonight, I think.”

It’s late and you shouldn’t be making him drive you across town, but he’s always amenable to what you want. This is the longest you’ve ever stayed at his place, after all—a rare long weekend—and before that a few weeks had passed with no cases to speak of, during which time you’ve been staying with him more and more. Spencer seems to be completely content letting you eat his food and use his shower if it means you don’t leave.

“I know the feeling well,” he admits, and your heart twinges with the care he takes to not bump or bend you or pull your hair as he shifts. He’s already been out of bed, and so is more dressed than you. Really, most people on the planet are more dressed than you, and you pull his nice sheet higher up your chest as he sits on the edge of the mattress, looking down at you and with a sort of worry in his eyes. He finds your knee through the fabric. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Stop paying such close attention, you want to tell him. And in the same breath, please don’t ever look away.

“I’m… good.”

It is easily the least convincing performance of your life. Either you’re self sabotaging or you want him to push you further, and you don’t know which is worse.

When his brow ramps just the slightest bit, you know you’ve fumbled it.

“I don’t believe you.”

You shrug. “I don’t need you to.” And then you sit up, still holding the sheet to your chest. “Can you hand me a shirt?”

Enough clothing has accumulated around the room recently that he could pretty much reach out in any direction and find something for you to wear. He grabs a sweatshirt hanging from the bedpost and holds it out for you, and you pull it over your head, before dropping your feet onto the cool wooden floor and grabbing the first bottoms you see—a pair of floral pajama shorts. How have so many of your clothes ended up at his apartment?

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

You scoop your bag up from a chair and flit around the room, haphazardly stuffing away discarded clothing to take back home. It’s true that it’ll be nice to get back to your stuff—your shower products and your closet and your silk pillow cases. You shouldn’t be spending so much time here. It’s not your space and you’ve been sacrificing your own needs to be closer to him, which is something you’d rather not do for any man.

“You can drive me home. I’ll send you gas money.”

“You don’t need to send me gas money,” he says, tacking your name on to the end of the sentence in a way that raises your hackles instantly.

“Yeah, I do. You drive me around constantly. I’ll pay you back and start taking the metro, or something.”

“I don’t want your money,” he scoffs.

“Fine. Then I’ll call a car.”

“That’s unnecessary. I’m happy to drive you.”

“Why?”

Silence hangs. Spencer has by this point stood up, and he’s watching you with a furrowed brow and slightly parted lips like he doesn’t understand where this animosity has come from. Honestly, you’re not entirely sure either. You didn’t realize you were harboring so much of it.

“Am I supposed to see you as an inconvenience?”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“No. You’re not. We have a relationship and I don’t mind doing things for you.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but you sure as hell were thinking it.

It feels good to say, like stretching a sore muscle beyond its limits or pressing into a bruise until you get past the ache. Sometimes when things hurt, it’s best to feel the pain and move on.

He looks absolutely perplexed, the lines between his brows only ditching deeper.

“Is that what this is about?”

“Oh my god, Spencer, no, I don’t care—”

“Because earlier at the bookstore I asked you if I was being an asshole and—”

“I do not give a fuck about earlier at the fucking bookstore!”

It’s too late to be yelling, but he doesn’t scold you. He just sort of looks at you, like you’re something mildly unpleasant. It makes you feel worse.

A long moment goes by.

“Fine. I’ll take you home.”

You let him brush past you, nothing more than a breeze on your shoulders as he disappears from the darkened bedroom. For a moment, you can’t follow him. All you can do is stand there and try to contain that sour, stinging, crying feeling in your eyes and nose because there’s no reason for you to be crying right now.

From the living room, he calls, rather abrasively, “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” you huff, and it is as wavering as it is insolent, so obviously the only word holding back a full-fledged deluge of tears.

One minute. One minute to sniffle and take deep breaths and wipe abashedly under your eyes because you refuse to be dramatic about this. Refuse to get over-emotional. You will not let it matter this much to you.

When you decide you can show your face without making a scene, you march out of his bedroom and straight past where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, keys in hand, to the front door.

He doesn’t move. You burn smoking holes into the dark wood of the door with your eyes, and the two of you are apparently at an impasse.

“I’m ready,” you eventually snap, always the impatient one between the two of you, casting a sharp glance over your shoulder.

“I’m not.”

“You said you would—”

“I know what I said,” Spencer cuts you off and shuts you up, “and I changed my mind. I’d prefer to talk about it before I take you home.”

By the time he finishes the sentence you’re already wrestling your phone from the depths of your bag in search of a ride sharing app.

“Okay, well I’m done talking because I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, so—”

“No, you’re done talking because this is what you do. You can never admit it when you want something because that would mean acknowledging that you’re a human being with emotions, and that’s too scary for you.”

Surely you misheard him. You turn around, a deep frown contorting your features.

“Excuse me?”

He only looks at you in that expectant, knowing way of his.

“It’s too scary so you run away. You’d rather burn your relationships to the ground and rebuild them with a new person every time than actually let someone in.”

“You don’t know me!” You yell.

“Do you actually think that’s true?” Spencer says, pushing off his perch against the counter, voice shrilling and raised slightly as he gets visibly agitated. “You think I’ve spent hours upon hours with you and I don’t know you at all?”

“You have no idea what I’m like in a relationship because this isn’t one. You have no fucking idea what I want, so do not presume to,” you seethe.

“You want a relationship. You wanted my friends to know you and you didn’t tell me that because you’re fucking terrified of the fact that I do know you. You can’t stand the idea that regardless of how many times you tell yourself it’s just sex, you have been vulnerable with me, and you’ve told me things you’ve never told anyone before, like why your last three relationships really ended, and how you constantly self-sabotage when you’re on the verge of getting what you want because you think you don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up!”

“No. I’m not just going to let you walk away from me like you did everyone else who could’ve ever cared about you because I know once you walk out that door you’ll stop responding to my calls and texts and I’ll never see you again, which is a juvenile pattern and completely unsustainable if you don’t want to keep pushing people away for the rest of your life!”

“God, Spencer, stop!” You sob, staggering back like you’ve been stabbed.

The urgency, the raw, desperate scratch of your voice, stops him in his tracks.

Every place an arrow penetrated a chink in your armor aches, and it hurts so much worse because he knew exactly where they were. You don’t know when or how it happened, but he’s right. Despite your most valiant efforts, Spencer Reid knows you. Somehow he crept in and grew over every limb like ivy. It’s crawled over your feet and up your legs and it’s keeping you there, rooted in place in his apartment, sobbing silently into the crook of your arm because you feel utterly paralyzed with fear.

Just as he’d said.

It’s silent for a long stretch of time, unquantifiable the same way the distance between the beach and the horizon is unquantifiable. It’s sprawling and infinite and desolate. The only relief from the drowning quiet is the occasional gulp of air or gasp from you which furthers your humiliation.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer finally whispers, soft and unsure like rays of weak sunlight over staggered tides, in the grey morning after a raging storm. It’s an attempt. It’s earnest and afraid.

The energy radiating off of him is so tangible that you can sense his desire to come near. To hold you. But that would be your worst nightmare come to fruition. This—this warbling and crying in front of him in silence in his dark apartment is god-awful enough. But to be comforted? For him to bear witness up close and personal to your humility and your ugly, jagged pieces—that inspires true catatonia. That is everything he said you were afraid of, and he was right.

You resent your human nature, and the fact that you care how his friends look at you and that it stung when they did so with little more than apathy. You hate that you care that he hasn’t told them about you. You hate that you feel so unimportant—because more than anything, you want to be fine with being unimportant.

You want to be fine. Constantly.

You hate that you feel. You hate that you care.

But you always have. And so fucking deeply.

Somehow, Spencer Reid is the only one who has ever noticed.

Eventually, his self-restraint snaps and he surges forward at the same time as you take a shuddering inhale and step back.

“Please don’t touch me,” you whisper. Afraid that if he did, his fingers would only sink into your flesh like decaying fruit. That you would disintegrate in his hands, and he’d finally see you’d been rotten the whole time.

He speaks softly, holding his hands up to show you he’s not a threat.

“Okay. I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go home.”

“I’ll—”

“No. I don’t want a ride. I’ll get a car.” You speak quietly. Efficiently. There’s no point in pretending this doesn’t feel catastrophic anymore.

His brows furrow. Like a moth to flame, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he draws nearer again.

“I’m not comfortable with you on the street at this hour.”

“I’ll wait in the lobby,” you insist, pleading, a wounded animal, because he doesn’t seem to understand how every casual notion of kindness is a violence, how he’s ripping into you and making it so you’ll never be able to put yourself back together. He can’t be kind like you’re easy to be kind to.

If you’re easy to be kind to, you are just as easy to hurt. Accepting that kindness is a sort of vulnerability you feel you can’t afford right now.

Another moment of silence, of stillness, as if you’re both bolted to the ground where you stand.

When he speaks it’s a blow to the chest because you’ve made him cry too.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, quietly, and a venomous self-hatred drips down your throat. Because you’re doing it again.

Maybe this is all you will ever be.

You fail to stifle a sob and Spencer steps closer still, saying your name desperately and so quietly like it’s his last rite.

And you try. You try harder than you ever have to stay in one place, to get a hold of your vibrating and to swallow all those slithery feelings and ignore every alarm telling you to panic when he reaches out to touch your arm because it’s never safe to let people in. But when his hand finally brushes you, it’s like a cow prod. You jolt backward.

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you whisper all in one harrowed breath, and there’s so much you’d like to say—you’re right, about everything, you do know me, you know what I want, I tried, I’m ashamed—but none of it matters. None of it is enough. He’s backed you into a corner of your own making, and the only way out is by pushing him aside even if it hurts you both.

So you don’t say anything else. You leave him there, in the dark of his own apartment, and you disappear down the hall.

Maybe this is all you will ever be.

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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xrjsoo · 4 months ago

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I live for Crystal and Edwin's friendship. Him and Charles could share a braincell but damn if he and Crystal are the same person in different fonts, just a couple of cinical buddies ready to sass and diss the shit outta anyone. The duo we weren't expecting but one we needed and i'm seriously hoping that they'll throw in some scenes of them bonding over being iconic.

#dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #crystal palace #edwin payne #niko sasaki #charles rowland

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helpallthenamesaretaken · 11 days ago

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same duo different fonts

(credits to @pmpknsoup and mircsy)

#I couldn't find the fanartist for the percy and grover one so if you know pls tell me so I can credit them #percy jackson #percy and grover #epic the musical #epic polites #odysseus #grover underwood pjo #grover underwood #rick riordanverse #rick riordan

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not0a0mundane · 10 months ago

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"Communion" you say?👀👀👀👀 please say more?

#same hat meme with the Lasat merc #<- prev tags #I'm still trying to figure out if I wanna give him the same name & personality in the new fics or not bc it would be funny to have a duo #that's like “me and the bestie (same fucking name but in two different fonts)”#like Sasha is the russian/ukraininan nickname for alexander while Olek is the polish equivelant and I think that's so funny

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lowkeyrobin · 7 months ago

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Mcyt's with over expressive and loud reader who fake crys / whines and start fake arguments like bickering just to be annoying and funny. <3

ooo okay okay 🙏🙏 I tried here I apologize if this sucks titties ; these are really short so I apologize I just didn't have many ideas lol

MCYT ; overexpressive reader

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, quackity, & nihachu

warnings ; language, super short sorry

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he's overexpressive and loud too cmon

he absolutely loves it

loves starting fake arguments with you lol

"tommy, give it back!" while he's holding your phone over his head so you can't reach it

you're constantly chasing each other around the house like

that one clip of him spidercrawling across the couch to get Molly is the definition of your relationship LMAO

golden retriever duo

RANBOO

will happily play into your playful fighting

and will always tease you with height advantages

honestly loves when you're being "annoying" cause it's like your love language

he'll happily get you wound up because he honestly thinks it's funny

you genuinley make them laugh so much, esp on stream lmfao

FREDDIE BADLINU

he will proudly be loud and rambunctious with you

genuinley worries about your loudness sometimes lmaoo

will always tease you to wind you up 💀💀

you make him laugh so much, like to the point his chest hurts

ALEX QUACKITY

he's just like you, literally same person different font

the amount of cackling in that office on stream... how have yall not died from laughter 💀

you get him laughing with your fake crying or just being fake annoying to the point he is RED lmao

"quackity, stoppp" "pick me ass" "I swear to God I'm gonna kill you"

NIKI NIHACHU

she loves you and your way of expressing yourself

you literally get her cackling everyday

she's always happy around you and always playfully bickering with you as well

you (very lightly) fake fight all the time because you bicker a lot

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #badlinu x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader #gn! reader

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s-b-party · 5 months ago

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HSR’s Guns & Roses: Analysis of Boothill & Argenti

****Possible spoilers ahead, esp. Boothill’s & Argenti’s lore****

With Boothill out now, I’ve been very intrigued by the Boothill & Argenti duo which I’ve noticed so many details that are similar but also different about them, some of which many people may have already noticed but I still would like to analyze them since it’s been a hot minute since my last lore thread

The main aspects of these 2 characters that I want to talk about are their gameplay, characteristics, and lore/backstories

When we look at their gameplay, some details stand out; for example, both have the same element (physical) but opposite paths when it comes to their DPS roles (Boothill is Hunt which specializes in single target fights & Argenti is Erudition which specializes in dealing dmg to multiple enemies)

Their weapons are also opposites of each other where guns are ranged & the lance is typically used in close combat

This is more of a coincidence which I tweeted about recently but I still think it’s funny that their best-in-slot relics can be found in the same cavern of corrosion

Next we’ll look at their characteristics by which I mean their personalities & designs; off the bat we can see that Boothill has a more gruff personality & if he weren’t censored by his synesthesia beacon, he would be the sole reason for bumping HSR to a higher audience rating; this man probably would not hold back on the expletives 😂)

Meanwhile Argenti is shown to be very kind with his words, often using compliments & praises; typically he speaks with levelheadedness & grace, just like how we imagine a knight would speak

If we think about it, Boothill & Argenti are both very flamboyant characters but in different fonts; just look at their demo trailers as references since they both move like dancers (Argenti looks like he’s in a graceful ballroom dance while he’s fighting the swarm disaster; Boothill straight up MOONWALKS while dodging bullets from the IPC, we literally went from Marilyn Monroe to Michael Jackson 😂)

What accentuates their flamboyance even more is the way they both have spotlights on them at various points of their demo videos

Bonus shot of Boothill being so extra (read: fabulous) while fighting:

They also have very flamboyant designs which makes them stand out (as Boothill explains, they’re both clad in silver which definitely is one of the first things you would notice when looking at them); I don't know how much value silver has in this universe but it is considered a precious metal & valuable to us due to its many uses which is thanks to its malleable nature

Another thing to point out is that Argenti is based off the Latin word for silver argentum; fun fact, the Latin translation is the reason why the symbol for silver on the periodic table is Ag :3

I feel like their color palettes are a bit similar (silver, red, black) but they also have varying degrees for shared colors, specifically red & black; from a visual standpoint, this goes very well because Argenti having more red helps to emphasize his association to roses & Boothill having more black helps to emphasize his identity as “death” (well, for the IPC at least)

Moving onto their lore, although Argenti doesn’t have lines about Boothill, we do get lines about Argenti from Boothill himself; based on Boothill’s voicelines, we can assume that he holds some respect for Argenti as someone to whom he can relate

Their backstories are quite similar when we take a closer look at them

For example, they both have experiences where they lost their homes & the people important to them (damn, HYV really said you’re gonna suffer 💀)

Their respective factions are both noted to be groups of solitary people

Interestingly the factions have different reputations according to the data bank where the Knights of Beauty are looked down upon & the Galaxy Rangers are seen as heroes which may be a bit different from what we’re used to since knights normally have a positive connotation as people who hold chivalry as one of their most important values

Their goals are similar in the way that they both are looking for a specific person or entity: Boothill is looking for Oswaldo Schneider (who is responsible for the loss of his family & home; we might possibly meet him soon since we ended off 2.2 with the cliffhanger where Boothill confronts Aventurine to ask him where Oswaldo is) & Argenti is looking for Idrila the Beauty

They also have their critical turning points in their respective Character Story Part 3 portions

Boothill’s portion talks about his transformation into a cyborg & his adoption of the name “Boothill” which he explains is what they called gunslingers who ended up dead; it is a clear representation of his old self having died along with his loved ones & his home when the IPC destroyed everything

Argenti’s portion talks about his journey as a new Knight of Beauty & the obstacles he faced after having met the knight that was mentioned in his Part 2; here we see his transformation into a Knight of Beauty & his dedication to the path he walks

Before I had mentioned silver being an important part of their designs; here I think is where we see the importance of silver the best (since silver is a malleable material, it can change its meaning for both characters based on their situations)

To reiterate, becoming a cyborg by replacing his body w/ silver represents Boothill saying goodbye to his old self who knew of happier times & his loved ones; for Argenti, the silver that he wears is a sign of his devotion to Idrila the Beauty

What ties their differences so well in my eyes is that silver acts as a symbol of Boothill’s & Argenti’s resolve to accomplish their goals (silver may be malleable but it still can be strong metal & it’s even better since Argenti does talk about his will/faith being unbreakable)

I truly love their dynamic as complementary foils & I really hope that we’ll be able to see more interactions between them in the future since we just only have Boothill’s voicelines about Argenti but considering their goals, it probably won’t happen, at least not any time soon

Let me just say that I only cooked this idea up after listening to Boothill’s demo trailer on repeat…..a normal amount, I’m so normal about him 🙂🙂🙂🙂

Thank the YEEHAW man :3

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail spoilers #honkai star rail lore #hsr spoilers #hsr lore #hsr boothill #hsr argenti #character analysis

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linkspooky · 1 year ago

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Hi I really love ur metas your jjk ones really made me appreciate the story even more. I was curious about ur analysis on why Gojo is important to Geto.

It's obvious as to why Geto is important to Gojo and how Geto effected him but I don't think it's talked about enough of the reversal

That's a good observation anon, the story makes it less obvious what Geto needs Gojo for, while spending a long time lingering on the tragedy of Geto's loss and what the loss of his only real friend meant for Gojo.

I think part of this is because Geto is a character of deep self-reflection so a lot of his internal narration is about his feelings towards his self and thinking through his own ideals and what that means. Whereas Gojo doesn't really self reflect but he does observe other people. We don't know what Gojo's opinions on a lot of things are, but we know what Geto meant to him because he's much clearer on how he felt towards Geto. Geto's staring into himself trying to figure what he feels personally, Gojo is always staring at other people trying to figure out what they feel.

As for why Gojo means so much to Geto, it's important to remember that they are a duo. They're the same idiot in different fonts. Geto's a much more human character and we are inside his head more often so it's easy to forget that when they were young Geto had the same kind of god / superiority complex that Gojo did.

Geto is associated with religious imagery over and over again, the same way that Gojo is associated with budhist ideals of enlightenment and escaping karma. They are both people who were in their teenage years more powerful than everyone around them, and because of that looked down on everyone.

Even Geto's stated ideals of "protecting the weak" come from a place of superiority. He still divides people mentally into the weak and the strong. The special ones and the common rabble. He sees people the same way Gojo does, he just believes that the strong like him and Gojo have a moral obligation to use their powers responsibly in service of others.

Geto's not more humble than Gojo. Their moral disagreement comes from how they should use the power they've been given, but they both feel that the power they have puts them in a position above other people.

All of this to illustrate the fact that if Gojo felt isolated as a teenager because all the power he had made him feel lonely and unable to connect with others, then so Geto probably felt isolated in the same way too. They each found in each other someone they could finally call their equal. Because of it they gained someone they could be vulnerable around and someone they could trust to watch their back.

The things Geto does for Gojo (check on his feelings when no one else would, go out of his way to reassure him), Gojo does for Geto in return. It's not Geto always taking care of Goo it's a partnership between the two of them where they lean on each other.

When Kuroi is kindapped and Geto immediately falls into a funk and starts to blame himself for his mistake, it's Gojo who reassures him by hurrying him along and telling him they need to focus on planning what they should do next. Gojo knows Geto well enough to know his tendency to get trapped in his own thoughts and gives him the kick in the pants he needs.

In the same scene where Geto checks on Gojo's well-being to make sure he's not overusing his power, Gojo returns the sentiment by reassuring Geto not to worry about him because he won't push himself too hard and that he's not in this alone Geto's here too.

That's probably a big part of it for Geto. Yes, Geto tends to naturally slide into the caretaker role, watching out for Gojo and checking in on him but at the same time Geto probably likes that there is someone who needs him in that way. If Gojo's defined by his lack of connection with other people, Geto's defined by the way he goes out to make connections. It's nice to be needed as they say. The fact that someone as seemingly self-sufficient as Gojo not only relies on Geto a great deal, but lets Geto take care of him is probably a big part of their bond.

Which is probably why Gojo's awakening post Toji is a big part in why they started to grow apart from each other. If Geto likes to live in service to other people, and defines himself by his connection to others he probably interpreted Gojo no longer needing his support on missions and suddenly doing everything by himself as Gojo pulling away from him.

I think a big part in Geto's downfall was the hit he took when one he was defeated by Toji someone without Jujutsu and too, Gojo suddenly became out of his reach. Gojo himself never said that they were no longer the strongest duo, or that they were no longer the strongest together it's all Geto. As I said Geto has as much of a god complex as Gojo does.

He thought they were on the top together, and not only is he suddenly confronted with his own weakness at the exact same time Gojo's become so strong it appears on the surface that he no longer needs anyone's support, especially not Geto's.

Nanami says it out loud, but Geto probably echoes the sentiment. If Gojo is now strong enough to handle every mission on his own then what need does he have for other sorcerers - and Geto in particular? Geto goes from feeling needed in a lot of ways by Gojo who was just as important a friend to him as he was to Gojo to watch Gojo suddenly handle everything alone. In a lot of ways it probably felt like Geto lost Gojo far before the KFC breakup and his defection from Jujutsu High. From Geto's perspective their relationship was over, their partnership broken and Gojo just did not realize it until after the village massacre.

At first Geto had as big of an ego with Gojo, and connected in a special way with him because the two of them were on top together. However, he came to believe that the only reason their partnerhsip worked was because they were both the strongest. When Gojo became the strongest alone Geto believed incorrectly that what they once had was lost and Gojo no longer needed him when Gojo's emotional reaction to Geto's defection shows that's anything but true.

In Geto's mind it is though because he's kind of got the same messed up way of dividing people into strong and weak that Gojo does, he probably just realized that he was one of the weak ones and feared Gojo thinking the same way.

During Geto and Gojo's final confrontation he almost has an inferiority complex about it when he talks about how if he had the limitless he'd easily be able to accomplish what he set out to do.

Until that moment Geto always thought they were equals, but now Geto's suddenly talking like he covets Gojo's power. He suddenly wants to be Gojo, probably because he incorrectly believes that their partnership is base don being equals in power when it's really just a normal friendship.

Which is why the loss of Gojo's friendship affects Geto just as badly as the other way around. Everyone wants to be equals with their friends, especially to a friend as important as Gojo was to Geto.

There's almost a tragic irony in how when speaking of his friendship to Nanako and Mimiko, Geto acts like their friendship ended when Gojo left Jujutsu High. It's their in his death scene too, Geto is surprised by the fact that Gojo has any feelings left for him.

Geto's so insecure over his connection to Gojo he didn't understand that in Gojo's mind they were still friends right up until the very end, and perhaps if he were just a bit more secure they would have been able to reach one another instead of falling apart.

#jjk meta #geto suguru #suguru geto #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satosugu #metasks

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