#it must be a culture thing? someone asks me if I dreamed last night
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Okay I was just gonna leave this post alone but ya know what, nah, lemme try to do damage control on my original statement. I’m so glad Chuuya doesn’t remember his dreams.
Even though, Chuuya technically doesn't dream. He doesn’t remember his dreams as he rouses into consciousness therefore..he doesn’t experience dreams. If you fall asleep and wake up the next morning, mind empty, no recollection of what happened while you were asleep and someone asks you, did you dream? You’d answer, no.
This is what Chuuya experiences. Could he have a million dreams at night and just not remember? Of course, but if he states himself he doesn’t dream it’s probably because he doesn’t experience dreaming, the interaction with dreams, the recognition of something happening while asleep, the faint recollection of a story or memory as he wakes. He might recall figments of emotion after waking up but he doesn’t actually engage in the process of dreaming. Sidenote: im currently rereading SB right now and if there’s more evidence that comes up later i’ll update this post but i just had to write this bc it was going to drive me crazy if i didn’t. What is dreaming? A series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person’s mind during sleep. Anyways, a few people brought up a point that Chuuya’s identity of "not being able to dream" is linked with his humanity and that he woke up from a nightmare at the beginning of Stormbringer, which yes, that's right, it’s literally there in the text.
Chuuya Nakahara didn’t dream. For him, waking up was like a bubble emerging from within mud. [...] Chuuya sat up, his chest coated in a faint sheen of sweat. Swirling within his chest were the remnants of some intense emotion, although he couldn’t remember what emotion, exactly. He’d been like this every day as of late. Chuuya gave up trying to remember and left his bedroom to take a shower. - pg. 5; Stormbringer
Albatross talking with Chuuya:
“Did something happen? A bad dream, maybe?” A bad dream. The instant he heard those words, Chuuya turned around furious. “Nothing happened!” - pg. 13;
Pianoman talking with Chuuya:
“Arahabaki. Prototype A2-5-8, an artificial skill created by the military. That’s you. You’re not even sure you’re human. You’re worried you might be nothing more than an artificial personality–and that’s because you don’t dream.” Chuuya let out a voiceless growl. - pg. 21
Chuuya does wake up with emotions he can’t decipher and he gives up trying to remember what happened while he was asleep, which some folks are considering to be dreaming and that's valid. But the text also shows that he does not remember any visions, images, scenes, etc, anything that might follow what the conventional definition of what dreaming is.
My og post stated, I’m glad he doesn’t dream because he doesn't have to deal with waking up from nightmares and the text proves that while yes he might wake up and have lingering emotions, he doesn't remember the imagery or thoughts while he was asleep. Maybe i am being pedantic in saying this isn’t dreaming, maybe my definition of dreaming is different than others. Chuuya is getting his full REM cycle and doesn’t recall anything happening during that time, and honestly? Good for him.
I’m so glad Chuuya doesn’t dream; people treat it as such a sad thing with angst but like ?? Hello ?? His life has been pretty riddled with trauma and loss, like let the boy get his 8 hours of sleep without waking up from nightmares
#ill update this with more evidence from the text#bc yes Chuuya dreams I guess if you want to call it dreaming if one doesn't remember anything in the morning#but he doesn't remember and my main post was about I was glad he doesn't dream / have nightmares he can recall#like he doesn't relieve memories / or experience traumatic bs in dreams#bc he doesn't remember them#will anyone read this update? probably not but I just had to put it out there#im not tyring to throw shade at anyone for clarifying my go point? im just....#it must be a culture thing? someone asks me if I dreamed last night#but all I can recall is nothing and void#no I didn't dream#lol okay ill stop but yes I promise I read sb and I promise I understood the humanity Chuuya dream link#also I too hate misinformation so like here's a lil proof that im not being pedantic I swear#and yes I��m aware many ppl don’t recall dreams and only remember the dream right before waking up#and even then a majority of it is forgotten so lines in with Chuuya feeling things but doesn’t recall the memory/dream that caused it#and yes I’m treating dream and nightmare as the same which is what the text did too#since Chuuya probably woke up from a nightmare due to sweat on him
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A little snippet from that between time in the post-letters fic.
They're friends. Completely normal friends :)
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“Hey, where are you right now?”
Dream looks away from the sky to see that Hob is leaning up on his elbows again, studying Dream like they are a miracle needing to be unraveled. It should unnerve them to be so studied. They are flattered.
“I am here with you, Hob Gadling, just as I intend to be.”
Hob laughed. “No, I mean. Just now. You looked like you were thinking. Penny for your thoughts.”
“Do you think me worth so little?” Dream raises and eyebrow, but they are teasing. They can’t remember the last time they teased someone.
“I think you’re worth more than every treasure on earth and all the stars in the sky. It’s just an expression.” Hob smiles easily, but there is a tension between his brows, like perhaps he is worried he’s said too much.
“I find you equally valuable.” Dream says, mostly to reassure their friend. The sentiment is no less true for it’s purpose. “And if you must know, I was contemplating the nature of our friendship. My sister came to see me not so long ago and asked after you.”
The nature of the Endless siblings and their influence on the universe had been a topic of conversation some months past, where Dream had finally confessed that Hob’s immortality had been their sister’s gift, and not their own. As with everything else, Hob had taken the idea that his sister was Death in stride.
“Yeah? What did you tell her?” Hob’s smile is fond and curious in a way that makes Dream wish to indulge him.
“I told her the truth. You are well. We meet often.” Dream turns their gaze back to the stars. “You have no wish for death. I take joy in your company.”
For all that their meetings in Dreams take place with such regularity as to be difficult to define, Dream has not yet grown tired of the easy smile that any praise of Hob or their time spent together brings to the immortals lips.
In another life, in another scenario, they might have kissed the grin off the immortal’s face, just to watch the joy become desire.
But Dream knows the dangers such things present, and so they do nothing.
“I’m always happy to be a bringer of joy. Life’s not worth much if you can’t do at least that.” Hob rests one hand behind his head, the motion stretching the muscles of his pectorals in a way that Dream would be happy to explore with their mouth, but again, they do nothing. “Are there any constellations from this perspective? Anything I’ve never seen before?”
“There are no beings who witness the night sky from this angle with the capacity to give star clusters names. However,” the sky moves again at Dream’s will and Dream lean’s close to Hob pushing his hand up with the tip of their fingers, guiding the immortal’s fingers light the sight of a gun, “cultures long past observed that star cluster,” Dream guides Hob’s hand, leaning closer than necessary as they traced Hob’s hand along the invisible outline of a constellation long past, “as a manifestation myself. When Stories and Dreams were worshipped above most other things. I admit, I’ve never seen the likeness.”
#lore's dreamling letters#I'm so normal about them#definitely didn't write this in a fever dream at 5am this morning#(jk I absolutely did that)#and it gets hornier#but that part needs editing. so they will not be posting it
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Okay, I’m not a big c!beeduo fan but I’ve always loved the idea of unrequited romantic c!beeduo!!!
There’s Tubbo and he kind of hates love. Not the platonic one for his friends, obviously. But the romantic kind. The one that’s about kisses and holding hands and something with screams and slapping noises he doesn’t want to know about. He’s been told there’s good ones. Phil seems to talk fondly enough of his partner even if he had never seen her. Wilbur and Sally had… something, even if it didn’t last, so the jury is still out on that one. But he has witnessed the shit kind. He couldn’t stand the tough of ending up in a situation like Big Q’s. Quackity always told him it was mutual, that he was using Shlatt too. That they were in this against him, they just have to wait a little longer. But Tubbo didn’t think the bruises were worth it. Or those days Big Q couldn’t get about of bed for a while. They were kinda endearing in the beginning, that was the scary part. It started off nice, which means you never know. If this is what romantic love is, or whatever hot girls Tommy is always on about, Tubbo wants nothing to do with it.
In enderman culture emotions like love are not really explored. In general they’re very closed off and don’t really DO emotions besides anger at outsiders obviously. But then he meets this boy. He’s fun and kind and not at all in his place. Ranboo tries to be there for him, to help him and be together. Eventually all his dreams come true, they get a house together, they adopt a child. It’s all platonic, of course, and so is their marriage but for a while now he has had this feeling in his chest. When they fall asleep together at night, when Ranboo can see his eyes shine. It’s there yet he has no name for it, he has never been taught it.
One day when him and Wilbur are working the ranvan. The older is going off about Quackity again but then he stops, looks to the side and says
“Ranboo, have you ever been in love?”
And Ranboo doesn’t know.
“Sorry, that must be a weird question. I’m… I just think… I am”
Him and Wilbur talk for a while after that. His whole thing with Big Q can’t turn out well, the relationship in question is too shaky, to many broken pieces.
“Why are you asking me this, anyways?”
“Don’t you have, like, the best relationship on the server?”
And Ranboo guesses that he does, in a way. Aside from maybe Phil and Techno. But they’re friends. Till death do them part friends, but still. And Phil has a partner. But him and Tubbo are married, they have a kid, it’s… not the same.
“I guess? Um… this is gonna sound weird… maybe. But… what does it feel like?”
“What?”
“Liking someone? Like… romantically?”
“Aren’t you married?!”
“Platonically”
“Oh”
“Yeah…”
Cuz as complicated as Wilbur’s feelings may be, he knows what they are, at least. He likes Quackity, he wants to kiss him, go on dates, maybe, do all the other stuff he does not want to think about. Wilbur knows what he wants, even if that is a short power hungry duck-hybrid that probably hates him.
And… some of Wilbur’s nervous rambles do hit home. Maybe not the stuff about the presidents famous ass but he does kinda want to kiss Tubbo. And his stomach may not fill with butterflies but maybe some ants… or particles… it’s there.
He thinks about it for a couple of days afterwards and… yeah, he’s in love. And it’s kind of wonderful and beautiful and the coolest thing to ever happen to him. The feeling may be nothing new but the realization is and it’s amazing!
But he can never have it, not with the person he wants most.
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TW - talk of death and other stuff I forgot about
. ⋆ 。 ⋆ ☂˚ 。 ⋆ 。˚ ☽ ˚ 。 ⋆ .
Death is such a weird thing to think about, I cannot say I am not afraid, nor can I say I will welcome it with open arms; because no one knows what death is, yes. We have a name, and what it implies; but what happens to a human soul when it is taken away from our body? Will we be reborn? Will we go somewhere else? What will happen to us? This question is asked by many, but no one has an answer. Someone who was brought from death will not be able to tell us, I have a theory that one cannot tell us because our minds cannot understand or comprehend what happened to it, most would be like "I almost died! oh I almost died.." in shock and probably afraid. But natural to humans is it not? From the very start of time, death has been a thing, the dinosaurs experienced death. creatures from the ice age have experienced death, humans then and now have experienced death, animals have experienced death; we cannot escape it (reasons why I feel disgust and disappointed when a character has claimed to be immortal, unable to die; because everyone can die, perhaps their meeting with death have been extended, but they will never escape it).
Our culture, our history and beliefs have its own version of death, like the Greek, Roman and Norse beliefs and history have its own way and form of it, Christians have their own way of it, every culture has it but yet its still unknown? Why?? I don't want to be a scientist but I need to know; why, How, and when, what & where?
No one can answer it, nor can we figure it out. So I will wait, patiently and not; to have my very own meeting with death. But I do hope I die with the memory of a full life, of joy and suffering, of companionship and love; I wish to die while dreaming my last dream, to be able to smile, bc I know I will not have to worry about anything as I sleep and dream my last of which. I just hope my wish is able to come true, but fate can be a cruel thing; perhaps they will take my wish and grant it, perhaps they will not. But I won't let such thoughts tie me down; I will continue to push forward, even when I have tears streaming down my face, even when I feel life gets too overwhelming. I will push forward, toward my loved ones and companions; because to me, life is nothing without friends and love: nothing without anything. So let's take what we got for granted people, and say fuck you to everything that has wronged our person. Rather it be family or friends, perhaps life in general; say fuck you to it and push forward, because that is the only thing us humans can do with our complicated emotions and words, every event makes us stronger until we are stone and jewel's; one can choose to have a meeting with death sooner or later; and if they do, I hope they have a pleasant conversation.
I must thank you for listening to this young, and maybe naive lady, as she ( I ) have much to learn in this life. So thank you and have a wonderful time, good night/afternoon/morning to you my darling kits,
- hisslop,
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Hello and welcome to Del's Outer Range S1 E8 thoughts and wonderings! We are officially at the end of both the show and my sanity! This show starts off so calm, so normal, and slowly becomes some unhinged fever dream that never fails to fill me with dread
Yo how long has Joy been perusing the forest?
Anybody know she's missing yet?
CGI bison for a CGI hunt
Joy, you have GOT to know something's amiss here
Glad to see Perry is still falling
The idiot let go of his hat, and I genuinely hope he never finds it again
I was thinking about this last night, but what if the time ore/dust is...addictive? Because it seems like both Autumn and Billy are hooked on it, and Royal's seeking it out more and more.
That, or maybe it's got to some "possessive" quality. Billy eats the powder, and he starts speaking like he's in a daze that he never truly comes out of.
Autumn doesn't seem to be doing much better either, but that could possibly be related to the potential manic episode I mentioned in E7.
Maybe the hole is the real villain at play
UGH this shot is gorgeous
The things I would do to live here
I like how it rains every time someone hops in the hole. Royal went in, and it rained that night. Perry went in, and it also rained.
Royal says it was a buckshot that went into his father's chest. Stay tuned; this will change by the end of the episode
Excuse me. Where did Cecelia get this digging equipment??
Royal has been sitting in that pasture all damn night it seems
His willingness to kill Autumn is astounding. I get you're angry but to immediately jump to murder?
Autumn also seems aware of Royal's willingness to kill her, because she's getting guns too. Why are both of them acting like they know exactly what's about to happen? Y'all been in the time powder again?
This is day two of Rhett being lost in quiet thought.
His hand must be hurting him from the fight :/
He's got bruises on his knuckles; it's hard to see because his hands are always moving.
Rhett's the only one to apologize to Amy about the fight
I also like that he's the only one who doesn't get onto her for swearing. Even in episode one, when she said he got a "bullshit bull," he was the only one who didn't correct her.
Rhett taught her to swear, I'm telling you.
Even after the fight, Amy still believes Rhett's going to win
Now we get some insight into what Rhett is thinking. "Do you think you're gonna stay here your whole life?" Interesting that Amy is the only one he seems comfortable asking that.
Billy rubs the powder on Wayne's lips and forehead.
....siiiiimbaaaaa
sorry
Billy being dressed in blue and Luke in red, feels deliberate
I believe the owl named after Luke is a barn owl. This bird symbolizes many different things, depending on the culture, but centerspirited.com mentions this, which felt interesting.
"To some cultures, the barn owl’s nocturnal lifestyle signifies an ability to see beyond physical boundaries and comprehend the unknown. Furthermore, barn owls are often seen as guides between the physical and spiritual worlds."
The Tillersons are already rich and looking to get richer, even if that means stealing from the Abbotts.
How did Billy know the hole is gone? Meet up with Autumn for a chat?
So Billy KNEW Wayne was leaving him the ranch. But he's willing to give it all to Luke if he doesn't kill their dad.
I also thought of this earlier, but Billy seems to be the only brother who is not interested in money or lavish things. He's not even interested in inheriting the ranch.
Again, I can't say much because we saw Trevor for all of fifteen seconds, but Billy drives his dad's old truck over having a new one like Luke and Trevor. He goes hunting, he sings, he wears a casual hoodie in some scenes. He's the only brother we really see do this.
Oh I forgot this scene. Autumn's asking how long it takes for a skipped bail to go to auction, so she knows that sending Perry into the hole will give her the chance to buy the ranch.
I wonder if she convinced Perry to go into the hole so that she could get the land.
...but what about that land dispute?
Lots going on here, folks
Autumn has money in a trust? Enough to buy the ranch? Christ, how rich is this girl?
God, I mistook Royal's truck for Billy's and felt a strike of fear.
This hotel secretary does not know how to protect someone's privacy. Need to know where someone is? Here's their room!
And yet, somehow, Royal fails to find Autumn
...is she in the walls?
Nevermind, she went out the window
Should have stole his truck <3
Ominous sign part...four(?)
So Rhett doesn't know Perry is missing because Cecelia doesn't want to tell him before his ride. Wild how they're keeping him in the dark.
Aaand she finally knocked the sign off the wall...right in front of Amy 🧍♂️ Lord, reveal yourself to this jar of pens!
Autumn, is that a gun, or are you happy to see someone?
Sorry
Where did she get this red jumpsuit? It feels...cult-y
...Maria you JUST now noticed the gun? ITS SO VISIBLE
This woman in the back listening to them argue
Maria's repeated "What the fuck did you say?" made me think of this.
Maria enters a screaming match and is now subject to...worlds worst makeout session
Is Autumn...licking the dust off Billy's tongue?
My exact reaction, girl. Run for the hills
Luke has so much money that his phone case doesn't fit his phone
Patricia refusing to hear Luke's confession of trying to kill Wayne...I get that she doesn't want it to come back to get her in the event Wayne presses charges, but damn
The way Cecelia snaps at Amy is making me wonder if that helps shape Autumn's view of the Abbott's in the future. Everyone is being so rude to her in this episode.
Don't rodeos only ever have one ride per rider per night? Why does Rhett have three rides here lmao
We were robbed of his first ride >:(
An excellent ride on the bull, Turnbuckle!
The worst part about small towns like Wabang is that they always compare you to your parent. So here Rhett is, being compared to his father, a former champion.
He's so pretty
Considering the amount of people here, Royal should not have been able to get a parking spot right next to the gate.
Love how Rhett's hands are anxiously shaking
I've said this before, but what am I but a broken record?
I find it interesting that Royal goes to Rhett to ask him to find something on the land, presumably the hole or something related. He doesn't try to do it alone; he doesn't ask Cecelia or anyone else; he goes straight to Rhett.
At the worst possible time, of course. His son is about to ride in the finals, and all Royal cares about is the ranch.
But why is Royal saying he might not see Rhett again?
Aaand this is the moment Rhett makes up his mind. He's leaving, but his voice is just the slightest bit weak when he says that. Sad about it, maybe? Hurt?
There's a thunk in the background, and these three dudes turn to look what happened at the same time
Rhett says, "Go on," but the captions say, "Well..."
Royal breaking down and unable to speak. I wonder what he was trying to say :/ "You get..." get what?
The guy showing him out is so nice, "Come on, I got you."
Rhett's hat tear is different here.
Autumn having Amy's phone number is...something
Even now, Royal isn't concerned about watching his son ride
"I know how this ends," I wonder if this implies Autumn remembers this night from when she was a kid?
Maybe she's baiting Royal out so they can take Amy
That spot on Rhett's hat is gone
His number is 11 here. Last rodeo, his number was 44, and before that, it was 137.
Interesting that every time Rhett has won a rodeo, he's worn repeating numbers.
Not only that, but he also wears blue each time he wins. The first ride in E1 is weird because he briefly switches to blue (the same shirt he wears in his E3 ride), but ultimately, he spends most of the scene wearing green and white. But when he wears blue and has repeating numbers, he wins
Rhett looking over and finding that his family isn't looking at him :(
The way he has to be physically snapped out of it
He's gonna be feeling this one for a while
Again with the repeating numbers
I wonder where Amy is going, to go check on Rhett? I'd assume that's what she's doing, but she's walking around like she's looking for someone
The clutter of noise. Music, the crowd cheering, the bulls, the gate slamming into the fence. Sensory overload.
And then...clarity.
oH my god
Rebecca is still wearing her wedding ring.
Either she has gotten remarried in nine months (unlikely), or Perry isn't the one she was hiding from. Because if Perry had something to do with her disappearance, almost killed her, plain scared her off, or something in between, she probably wouldn't have worn that ring.
Either Rebecca is involved with whatever group Autumn is with, or she's deliberately hiding so that the group can't find her. Billy said something bad was going to happen to Amy, and I can't imagine Rebecca would willingly hurt her daughter.
Regardless, there's an unknown force that's scared Rebecca into hiding.
Rhett vomiting after his shoulder is put back in place :(
I honestly don't think he would have said something about it had that rodeo hand (aka my inspiration for Archie) not come up to help.
Cecelia arguing with the cop, knowing Amy is gone, and finally breaking down after eight episodes of stress. This poor woman did not deserve all of this., and she has yet to learn Rhett's going to leave too...she lost her entire family in two days.
Rhett eating the sand/dirt feels like a parallel to Billy eating the time dust.
Except Rhett's consuming from the earth and Billy from time. Both also happen to be the youngest sons, overly invested in women whom they just met (or came back into contact with...in both cases, actually), and are willing to throw away their entire lives for them.
I wish to be the can that he crushed
Sorry, whore moment
Rhett's banging his shoulder on the fence to...what? It's already set back in place. Trying to amplify the pain here so it doesn't feel as bad when he gets on the bull?
All the rodeo guys coming together to help Rhett finish his ride, even when he can't lift his own arm 🥹
Fun fact: I can't actually see the "🥹" emoji. I'm just hoping it's the right one when I copy and paste it because it's just a square to me
Wonder if that guy actually bought Rhett a chicken dinner
All that, and Rhett looks up to this
I can't imagine how horrible it must be, seeing your family has left during a rodeo final you've been chasing for nearly a decade, right after you told your dad you were moving out.
I know they have reasons for being missing, but Rhett just dragged himself all the way out here to find that they left. Ouch.
Again, he doesn't know what's going on
Fun fact: the song playing here is called The Rodeo King!
The disbelief
I love watching the smile slowly emerge onto his face
JOY IS STILL FUCKING WALKING
GIRL I FORGOT ABOUT YOU
This must have been interesting to look over and find
The shaking...the unattended crockpot...I bet not a single person expected this to be from bison
Rhett's immediate "I love you" would send me running to the trees irl, but in the show?
Hot
The other riders barking at Rhett will never not be funny to me
Someone here has a stellar chihuahua impression
Something triggered the time...liquid to come up from the ground, and I don't like what that entails.
I wonder why this didn't give Luke a vision? It just kinda..scrambles
And now Luke is being run over by an ungodly amount of bison.
He's about to develop a fear that will cripple him for life
Oh god, the old-fashioned shootout begins
Is Autumn...alright? Genuinely
Everyone here is a terrible shot. Particularly you, Billy. You had time to line up a shot and MISSED ANYWAY
Is there not a singular cop on patrol out here?
Ram 'em off the road, Royal!
GOD where did he get that gun
For a while, I thought that Autumn knew exactly what was going to happen here; she kept saying, "You can't change fate, Royal." Like she knows what fate will be. But she's genuinely surprised by Royal killing Billy
Now, how does Royal plan to wiggle his way out of this? Suicide mission, or does he have a grand plan here?
Autumn...can't walk. She's crawling because she can't get up
INCOMING BISON
HELLO
If only the car chase continued on past where Rhett and Maria are driving. I would have loved to see them fly by and Rhett realize his old man is in a gunfight
Surely someone's gotta question all these fucking bison. You can ignore one, but you can't ignore THIS MANY
I don't think you understand how bad I want to look over and see this in the driver's seat
RIP Rhett's truck.
If this ain't divine intervention, idk what is
Do you think insurance will cover this?
The way his shoulder is fucked up but he's still grabbing her to keep her close :( how do I get my own Rhett
Bro
Royal's known this bison had the arrows in its shoulder, but he only takes the arrow out now.
And it just walks off and into the distance once he's done. No big deal.
The revelation of the scar. Autumn is Amy.
And Royal now realizes he was trying to kill his own granddaughter.
Did Cecelia...not notice Royal carry a whole woman up into Amy's bedroom?
"Then, when I was eight years old, I shot my father. But when I saw that stray bullet go into his chest..."
Remember what I said in the beginning? At the start of this episode, Royal says a buckshot went into his father's chest.
The phrases "buckshot" and "bullet" are not interchangeable. Either Royal is lying and can't keep it straight, or something altered the course of events and changed what Royal shot his father with.
I'm not a fan of Royal, but it hurts to see him pushed so far, forced to acknowledge a past he's been running from his entire life, and have his biggest fear come true anyway. All he wants is his family. And they're gone.
Thus, Cecelia kicks the table over, shattering it all.
Does Cecelia know Rhett left?
The crockpot is shaking again...incoming bison
And the show ends with a device beeping
Cut to black
...
..
.
WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE DEVICE BEEPING?
BECAUSE IF IT WAS THE SLOW COOKER, THE CAPTIONS WOULD HAVE SAID THAT
RIGHT?
I know there's a big chance that many of the weird details I've pointed out could be continuity errors. Rhett's hat, Karl on the road, but I'm watching this show with the understanding that it's loved by its creator. That this show had all of the care and love in the world put into it because every time I look at behind-the-scenes snippets, that's what it feels like. That's why I'm so "this has to be intentional" with this series.
As much as I say I can't stand this show, I love it to death. It gives me a headache, but oh my god, I love the freedom this show brings, from theories to writing. You can get away with so much because the universe is so vast and undefined by rules.
There are theories that we're viewing two separate timelines, that Royal is hopping between them, someone is fucking around in the past and causing the anomalies we see in the show. That Royal still knows more than he's letting on; Royal could be Cronus or a son of his; the cult Autumn mentioned could be at play; there's so much!
This is why I love this show. I got to sit here for days and point out all the weird tiny things, and I could go back and STILL notice new things.
I can't wait for season two to roll around 💕 thank you for joining me on this weird little stint.
I'll continue this series whenever season two releases or if I notice anything worth noting. 💐
Rewatching Outer Range for the umpteenth time. Will slowly reblog with random thoughts and theories.
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Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!
Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.
I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.
Returning to you.
Embry Call x Reader
5058 words
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Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.
The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.
It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.
That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.
Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.
My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.
“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.
He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.
“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.
“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.
“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.
“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.
“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.
“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”
I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.
“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.
“I-I know I just really miss you.”
“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”
We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.
The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.
My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’
The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.
Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.
Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”
I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.
The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.
I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.
I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.
Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.
The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.
Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.
It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.
One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.
I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.
I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.
“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.
“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.
“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.
He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning
“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.
I knew he was buttering me up for something.
“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”
“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”
I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.
“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.
“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.
We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.
‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’
I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.
The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.
Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.
As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.
I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.
I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.
I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.
Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.
My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.
The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.
My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.
The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.
I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.
As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.
“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.
“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.
“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.
“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”
“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.
“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”
“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.
I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.
We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.
The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.
I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.
Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.
I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.
I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.
“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.
“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”
My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.
I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.
The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.
The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.
“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.
One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm
“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.
“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.
The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.
“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”
We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.
The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.
It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.
Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.
Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.
I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.
As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.
My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.
A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.
I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.
Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.
We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.
I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.
Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.
I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.
I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.
The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.
Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.
As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.
The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.
It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.
Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.
“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.
“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.
She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.
The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.
I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.
Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.
“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.
“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.
“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.
We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.
The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.
My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.
I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.
Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.
My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.
The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.
I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.
My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.
“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.
“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.
“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.
“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.
“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”
“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.
“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”
His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.
“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.
“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.
“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”
“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.
“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.
“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.
“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.
#embry call imagine#embry call x reader#twilight wolves#twilight wolf pack#twilight renaissance#twilight revival#twilight saga#wolf pack#embry call#jared cameron#jacob black#sam uley#paul lahote#quil ateara#seth clearwater#leah clearwater
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Things I loved about In the Heights
-The sounds of the city are part of the music of the opening song
-The frame story is the only way this story should be told; the story only works if it shows the results of Usnavi's decision to stay
-Anthony and Lin shaking hands
-Yay to random mixed race couple asking for directions
-“I hope you’re writing this down I’m gonna test you later” only makes sense with kids
-Showing different residents of Washington Heights provides scale
-I’m not sure about the decision to cut Camila, but if it means less Nina drama, then I love it
-I love how Usnavi has his friends’ orders all ready to go
-LOVE how Usnavi announces Benny’s entrance
-Everything about Vanessa in this movie is perfect=> she’s given so much more depth, her beauty is downplayed, she’s kind of a nerd, but has a beautiful smile
-Nina’s heels=> metaphor for her reaching for the stars
-I love the actress that plays Nina; she’s the right age and her singing voice is so sweet
-Nina’s hair is straight when she’s at school; as soon as she comes home, it’s curly=>she can be herself at home
-When Nina turns around and sees the crowd of people counting on her=> I felt that
-I love seeing Nina get her acceptance letter; I remember what that was like for my brother
-Camila must have died while Nina was at college in this version; Nina lost her mother recently which helps explain her different reason for dropping out; she feels lost
-I don’t know why Sonny is using this deep voice, but I love it!
-Whoever decided to have 96,000 take place at the pool is a genius
-The graphics at the beginning of 96,000 are good for helping regular people understand the rap
-Pete just put his arm around Sonny=> are they dating?
-Sonny yelling 96,000 as he enters the pool=> the sound design
-Pete nodding along to Usnavi=> sucking up to the family
-Usnavi is such a proud cousin-uncle during Sonny’s part in 96,000
-Vanessa making her “I'll be downtown” walk down a ramp
-The dancer doing flips is now a diver doing spins into the pool
-On stage, the lighting was dark; in the movie, it’s underwater
-The circles of people in the pool reflect the zeros in 96,000
-Lin and Chris being rivals is perfect; their bromance is everything
-Nina and Benny being together before the events of the movie means they are the beta couple and have less drama than Usnavi/Vanessa which is how it should be
-Benny joins in during “on that fire escape”=> like West Side Story
-Benny’s “Let me in” against the fence is hilarious
-Nina and Benny are FUN, not angsty like in the original
-Nina following the little girl=> following herself, following her dreams which eventually lead her to the sea; all of this is done while she’s talking about her past
-Nina and Benny instrumental™ part 1 in the middle of “When You’re Home”, Benny interrupts=> their story isn't complete yet
-Benny says he believes in her without discounting her feelings
-Everyone loving Nina=> I finally get it
-Nina is home geographically and with people who love her
-Benny is Nina’s home
-In the Heights is about how dreams are great, but the life you have now can be so beautiful
-Nina’s hair during the dinner/club scene is great
-Usnavi is wearing his dad’s hat for his date with Vanessa; he knows that she is to him what his mom was for his dad
-Family dinners are the same in every culture
-Awkwardness of long-time friends going on a date
-Vanessa offers Usnavi his first drink of the night; he thinks that’s what she wants; because why would she want him and only him?
-Usnavi whispering in Vanessa’s ear is so sexy
-Love that Benny is on Nina’s side instead of being mad at her
-I wonder if they thought 5 years of Benny working for Kevin was too much or too little since they changed that line to "all these years"
-Benny’s reactions to Vanessa dancing at the club are hilarious
-Vanessa laughing at Usnavi dancing with someone else
-Nina is always smiling and laughing at the things going on around her; not as self centered
-Nina and Benny dancing at the club=> all of the yeses
-Usnavi is too nervous about being alone with Vanessa that he un-dated himself; he wasn’t quite ready
-Love that they consciously cut all the “Usnavi, help me” parts=> Vanessa is not a victim
-Fireworks are a romantic setting for Sonny and Pete, just saying
-Usnavi/Benny/Nina talking about the fourth member of their square gives me feelings; I need more of these four in fanfic, my dreams
-“I got to wait for Vanessa”=> the stuff dreams are made of
-Benny is such a good person; he’s even better than the original which is what he deserves
-Usnavi is relieved to have Vanessa call his name
-“Don’t walk away from us tonight”=> great addition
-To give Usnavi and Vanessa some of Nina and Benny’s original lines is to see the face of God
-The first time I saw this, I’m ashamed to admit, I thought Benny was going to steal money from the dispatch; I was a fool
-Dancer with fireworks on his shoes
-Benny is smart and good; he isn’t doing this for Kevin or Nina but for the people of New York
-Abuela was able to see stars again on the last night of her life
-I’m sad Blackout isn’t exactly the same but the orchestral parts that cover up what is unsaid is so beautiful it makes up for it
-Abuela’s family is her “fireworks”; they are what light up the Heights
-Sonny came to Usnavi instead of being with his dad during the blackout; his real family
-Abuela’s smile as she looks at her family while reflecting on her childhood is the most beautiful thing there will ever be
-Paciencia y Fe as a dream sequence is how it was meant to be
-The transition on the subway from reality to memory
-Paciencia y Fe is a mixture of cultures; like Abuela’s memories
-“Wide awake”=> stepping off the subway
-The same actress played Abuela on Broadway and in the movie
-Abuela may be in a musical, but she’s still an old woman
-“As I feed these birds”=> back to the present
-Calor means heat in Spanish but in English it sounds like color
-Abuela dying during the night of the blackout is perfect
-Usnavi saying “she was just here” twice: when she was literally just there and many years, maybe a decade, after the fact
-Usnavi’s daughter is the life that goes on after Abuela is gone
-Usnavi and Nina crying together
-Those closest to Abuela are inside and everyone else is outside
-Iris was sitting on the outside and now she’s in the middle; needed comfort from her friends
-“Should we take a break?”=> we’re past the point of an intermission
-“No daddy, keep going”=> does this look like a stage production to you? It’s a fucking movie
-There isn’t a clear point for an intermission; the action stays strong over where the intermission should be; this is a movie, not a play, and movies don’t have intermissions
-Everyone’s holding candles; like the stars Abuela loved so much
-Iris called Usnavi Daddy for the first time because that was the point in the story where he needed to hear that the most
-“I thought about the people I care about the most, I thought about you”
-Anthony makes Usnavi sexy in a way Lin never could
-So many people love Vanessa, but no one better than Usnavi
-Abuela paid to have Camila's napkins cleaned after all
-Usnavi is the kind of parent that doesn’t sugarcoat life
-Vanessa listed no emergency contacts even though she had people
-“That’s senorita to you”=> yes girl, get it
-Love Daniela for getting everyone out of their asses
-“Tonteria” means foolishness=> the more you know
-How fast Carla says no to “ask me why” shows how quickly she wants to please her love
-Usnavi’s Nueva York t-shirt=> I need it
-Daniela’s first effect being on a woman whose hair is terrible
-Carla pushing that man away from her woman with a bullshit excuse
-My friend was laughing at the parts that were meant to be jokes
-Usnavi’s entrance being announced in Carnaval del Barrio; just like Benny in the opening song
-“There’s nothing holding me down”=> assuming he was rejected
-The different communities dancing with their flags
-Nina being part of Carnaval del Barrio is great
-Even Kevin, kind of an old man, can get down
-Since Nina and Benny sex scene wasn’t shown on screen (praise Jesus), I have to assume Nina told Daniela even though she knows she’s a huge gossip
-Everyone stops because Sonny, a kid, starts singing
-Vanessa and Sonny are so powerful together
-Vanessa’s hand on Sonny’s shoulder
-A kid providing Usnavi with the “flag I’ve got in my hand”
-Usnavi and Vanessa dancing together is muy romantico
-Everything about Nina’s appearance in “When the Sun Goes Down”
-“Let me just listen to my block”=> peak Nina
-Abuela wrote “for Usnavi” on her lotto ticket 😭
-They cut so many songs but kept Champagne=>I love their priorities
-The pause before “you outta stay”
-Everyone has such great chemistry; especially Usnavi and Vanessa
-The choreography in Champagne is what I’ve always imagined
-Usnavi didn’t have time to cash in because Vanessa came over
-Vanessa and Pete friendship for the win
-“Best days of my life” is said thrice=> good things come in threes
-Usnavi staring at the room where Vanessa kissed him
-Iris knows he stayed; she loves her dad so much
-Usnavi looking out his window in Washington Heights and seeing his friends on his dad’s beach
-When Usnavi talks about Kevin at the dispatch, the camera flashes to an abandoned building
-“Vanessa at the salon”=> Usnavi sheds a tear
-Vanessa being front and center during Usnavi’s decision to stay
-Hearing the sounds of the beach during the unveiling
-It’s all about Vanessa=> perfection
-Lin being at the ending is perfect no matter the context
-“Say it so it doesn’t disappear”=> the sad reality is your neighborhood probably will disappear
-Usnavi telling his daughter “you’re it” is everything
-Iris understanding all of the little details of her father’s store now that she knows his story
-Iris is the goddess of the rainbow like the light that appears when water appears on a sunlit day
-“Man, you talk forever”=> that’s so “How I Met Your Mother”
-Iris has a necklace of seashells, like the islands
-Vanessa would sooner get wet than let go of Usnavi’s hand
#in the heights#in the heights 2021#usnavi#vanessa#usnavi x vanessa#anthony ramos#lin manuel miranda#washington heights#camila rosario#nina rosario#benny#breathe#leslie grace#sonny#96000#graffiti pete#sonny x pete#christopher jackson#nina x benny#when you're home#kevin rosario#abuela claudia#the club#blackout#paciencia y fe#iris#daniela#carnaval del barrio#carla#daniela x carla
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A Shakespearean Soliloquy in Two Parts
Relationship: Asexua!Spemcer Reid x Asexual!Male!Reader
Summary: “Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” William Shakespeare, Julius Ceaser
Warnings: Scool shooting, asexual Spencer Reid and reader, implied autism.
Word Count: 7520 words
A/N: To be frank, I meant to post this at like, three pm. Also Asexual Spencer Reid owns my ass and I will only write him as such. Please enjoy. Edited by the outstanding, amazing, show stopping @mystic-writes . I love you please forgive me for forgetting.
"Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream" –A Midsummer Night's Dream
"Hey, Shelly," you say with a smile at the small book store you are currently checking out in. "Good to see you again."
"You as well! Only one book this week?" Shelly asks and you nod.
"Yeah. I have too much work to do, so I can't focus on more than one book," you say.
She scans your book and you pay quickly. She hands you the book back and says with a smile, "Enjoy your book!"
You nod and turn around quickly, taking a step, before colliding with someone. The books in their hands go crashing to the floor, and you do as well, crying out as you land suddenly on your tailbone, and stars flash before your eyes.
"I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have been that close and I wasn't paying attention, and I should have been looking where I was going and-" you hold up a hand to silence the man who was speaking a mile a minute in front of you.
"Really, it's okay. It was my fault," you say, wincing as you try and get up.
The man holds out a hand out and you take it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
He takes his hand back almost immediately once you're standing and you smile. "No, not really. Just bruised my tailbone," you say and the man sighs.
You lean down and pick up a couple of the books he was carrying, and when you go to the last book, his fingers brush yours. You look up and see your faces are inches from one another, and you feel your face heating up. You see him blush as well and you both pull your hands away. You stand up so he can grab the last book and you shove the books you're holding into his arms.
"Sorry again!" you say, not looking at him, and you leave because you can’t embarrass yourself any more.
It isn't until you're in your car that you realize you gave him your book as well.
"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love." –Hamlet
You walk into the Alley Cat Café, a new café that just opened a block from your flat that also offered an area where you could hang out with adoptable cats. You never went in there because you would just adopt all of them and you didn't have the time for that right now.
You walk into the café and the little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival. You walk up to the counter and order your regular, the Calico Chai, and pay before finding a seat near the back close to the window where you could watch the cats. Your order is called, and as you get up, you look over to a table, and see a very familiar man reading a book at a remarkable speed.
You distractedly grab your tea and go back to your table, gathering up your things before plopping yourself next to the man.
"Hello again!" you exclaim and he jumps, looking up from his reading to glare at whoever interrupted him.
When he locks eyes with you, however, his eyes widen. "Oh! Hello!" he exclaims and a small smile forms on his lips.
"I think I may have given you my book on Tuesday," you say sheepishly, and his eyes widen even more and his mouth drops open adorably.
He turns and fishes around in his bag, before turning back to you and holding out a book in both hands. "I've been carrying it around with me hoping to give it back to you," he says, blushing, and you grin, taking the book from his hands, your fingers brushing his.
"Well, thank you," you say, grabbing the large book.
"So, the complete works of Shakespeare, huh?" the man asks and you nod.
"Yeah. I've never actually owned a copy before," you say. "I've only taken it out from the library or borrowed it from friends. I actually wanted to major in Shakespearean studies in college before ultimately deciding to go another way." The man nods, and silence falls over you for a moment before you say, "You know, I never got your name."
"Oh! Doctor Spencer Reid," he says with a wave.
You wave back and say, "Doctor [Y/N] [L/N]."
"What's your doctorate in?" he asks, excited.
You reply, "Biological Anthropology. I teach it at Georgetown."
"That's where I got my PHD in Chemistry," Spencer says and you grin.
"Really? When was that?" you ask.
"Thirteen years, two months, six days, and seventeen hours ago," he says and you blink owlishly.
You think for a moment before saying, "You must have been really young when you got that."
He nods. "I was seventeen. It was my second PHD. I have three. One in mathematics, one in chemistry, and one in engineering. I also have five BAs."
You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything, before you whisper, "That's really impressive." You feel your cheeks heat up. "I didn't get my PHD until I was nearly 25."
"I have an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words a minute," he says and you smile.
"You're one of a kind, Spencer Reid," you say, holding your book to your chest. "That must have been a very lonely childhood though," you remark, and he looks away from you. He nods but doesn't say anything. "What do you do now?"
"I'm a profiler with the FBI in their behavioral analysis unit," he explains and you smile.
"Maybe I'll have you come in and lecture to one of my classes some time," you say and he smiles. "Though Biological Anthropology isn't very exciting to anyone but me…" you look away and scratch the back of your neck, but Spencer assuages your fears.
"Actually, I find it quite interesting. I read an article the other day about how work stress is actually de-evolving humans, causing their bones to actually lose density, causing them more physical pain and inability to do physical tasks, as well as loss of sleep, appetite, and more," he says, and you grin.
"But, the study was only on French individuals, and it could have different results based on where the study is done. Like, in Japan for example, there may be the same amount of stress but they handle it better because in their culture, work is just a part of life and you have to deal with stress. Or in America, where we have different ways of dealing with stress that may cloud the findings," you add, and he nods.
"That is true, though you'd have to factor that into the initial hypothesis and-"
Spencer is cut off by his phone ringing. He picks it up and the phone call ends quickly.
"I'm so sorry to have to do this, but I have to go to work. We have a case," he says and you nod in understanding.
"Of course. It was nice talking to you Spencer. I hope we can talk again some time!" you exclaim.
A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I do too, [Y/N]."
You stare at each other for a couple moments before he turns around and leaves the café. You sip your now cold tea and realize you didn't get Spencer's number.
“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt." –Measure for Measure
You sit at the bar and nurse your glass of water as the music and lights cause a headache to split at your temples. You groan and massage your head, but it doesn't do anything to relieve the pain. You take another sip of your water, and look up to see a familiar face looking down at you.
"Co-workers bring you here too?" Spencer asks and you smile and nod.
"Yeah. It's Fiona's birthday today and she wanted to go to a club," you say, and Spencer sits down next to you. "I got dragged along. And apparently I got a splitting headache too."
"Do you want any help with that?" Spencer asks and you look at him, questioningly. "Turn around."
You do as he asks, slowly, and you feel his fingers lightly resting on your neck. You wince as he presses into your spine right where your head and neck meet, but after thirty seconds he releases, and your headache dissipates. You grin and turn around.
"How did you know to do that?" you ask.
He shrugs. "I had chronic migraines when I was younger, and I read a book on pressure points once," he explains and you nod in understanding.
"Right. You're a genius," you say with a forced smile and he frowns. You sigh. "You just…" you put a hand on his cheek, and he stiffens for a moment before relaxing into your touch. "You make me feel inferior. Like I'm just never going to do as well as you."
Spencer grabs your hand lightly and squeezes it, putting it away from your face as he looks into your eyes. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You're a doctor working at one of the best schools in the country," he says and you smile. He returns it. "And, don't compare yourself to me. I can read 20,000 words a minute. I'm a freak. You're more normal than I am."
"Spencer Reid, don't you ever say that again!" you exclaim, taking his other hand in your own. "You are not a freak!" He goes to protest but you take one of your hands from his grip and put it over his lips. "Nope. No arguing. What I say is final."
You pull your hand away and you see he's smiling. "Yes, Doctor," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm.
You grin, before gasping. He looks alarmed as you say, "Oh! I forgot!" he places his hands on your arms. "You didn't give me your number in the café!"
He sighs in what looks to be relief, before reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. "You want to see a magic trick?"
You nod and he grins an adorable smile that has you grinning as well. He holds up a business card, probably his business card, and moves his hands in front of his face, and when they cross back over, the card is gone.
"Oh come on! It's behind your hand! I know this trick," you say, and he raises an eyebrow.
He opens up his fingers and turns his hand around, showing it's nowhere to be seen. Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops slightly in awe.
"Hey, I think you have something in your hair… right there…" he says, pointing to your left ear, and you reach up before he can touch you.
You feel something, and when you pull it out in front of you, you see it's Spencer's business card.
You laugh and flip the card over, checking to see if it's real or not. But it very much is.
"Wow Spencer, that's amazing!" you exclaim and his cheeks flare red. You take out your phone and put his number in, calling it. He looks up at you and you place your phone to your ear. He picks up and you say with a smile, "There. Now you have my number too."
"This sounds very strange, can I hang up now?" Spencer says out loud, and it's repeated in your ear only moments after. You laugh and nod, and the two of you hang up your phones.
Almost immediately, his phone starts ringing again, and you put up your hands in innocence.
"JJ," he says into the receiver, pausing for a moment, before saying quickly, "I'll be right there." He hangs up his phone and places it in his pocket, before saying quickly. "Sorry, that was work. I really have to go."
You smile and nod. "You have a job to do. Go save some lives." He smiles and turns to leave, but you call out, "Spencer!" he turns around and you stand up, lean forward, and place a kiss on his cheek. "For good luck."
He grins and walks out of the club. You watch as a couple more people file out, and sit back in your seat and finish your water.
"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change." –Romeo and Juliet
You're flipping through papers when you hear someone call out to you.
"[Y/N]!" they shout and looking up you see Spencer Reid walking down the hallway towards you, a messenger bag slung around his shoulder. He was wearing something similar to what he was wearing in the club only two nights ago.
"Case ended early?" you ask and he nods.
"Yeah. Child abduction. We had less than forty eight hours to get the child back alive since the family didn't report her missing until twenty four hours had passed," he says.
"And did you? Get the child back alive, I mean," you ask and he nods. You grin.
"Oh, good. So! What are you doing here? You didn't come just to see me, did you?"
Spencer blushes and you place a hand on his arm. "No, Doctor Priya Chopra wanted my help on an article she's going to write about fungal growth on skin and the potential benefits it could have, as well as any side effects it may cause," he says and you nod.
"Well, I can show you to her office! She's new so it wouldn't have updated on any maps yet," you say and Spencer nods.
He stops and you halt in front of him, turning as he says, "Oh! Do you want me to carry any of your papers?"
You smile and shake your head. "No, it's okay. I'll just have to walk back anyways. My office is in the other direction."
"Oh, I don't want you to have to go out of your way. I can probably find it on my own…" Spencer trails off, looking helplessly at the myriad of plain beige hallways.
You shake your head and bump your shoulder with his. "Really. It's not a big deal. I want to do this," you say with a smile. He smiles back and you lead him down a couple hallways, until you stop at a door with a nameplate that reads, 'Dr. Priya Chopra, PHD'.
"Well, this is your stop," you say, almost sad with a slight slump to your shoulders. "With that eidetic memory of yours, I don't think you need me to show you around anymore."
Spencer places a hand on the small of your back and points at the paperwork in your arms. "You look like you could use a little help. How about I come by after my talk with Doctor Chopra? I know where your office is," he says and you grin.
"I would love that, Spencer," you say, and watch him until he disappears behind Doctor Chopra's door.
"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain." –Hamlet
You hear a knock at your door and you look up from your work to see a familiar head pop out from behind the door. You grin and say, "Parker! It's good to see you again! Come in."
The young man with dark circles under his eyes slowly walks into your office, he wrings his hands out in front of him, and sits down in the chair across from yours. He slowly takes his backpack off and reaches in, pulling out a grey folder. The movements were slow and methodical, but you can see the young man's hands shaking slightly as he does so. Finally, he pulls out a stapled stack of papers and holds it out to you.
You take it carefully and frown, looking it over. It was one of his essays that you just gave back a couple days ago with a big red 'F' on the front.
"Why did you fail me?" Parker whispers and you sigh.
You lean back in your chair, folding your fingers on your stomach as you say, "Your essay is all over the place. There isn't a coherent theme or message in any of it. Also, you should really find someone to help edit your grammar at least. You have misspellings and incorrect comma usage all over the place, Parker." The man in question looks down away from you and you sigh again, this time louder and lean forward onto your desk. "How about this. Go to the writing center on campus, find someone to help plan out your essay, and if you do a good job, I'll bump up your score to at least a B, if not more if you do really well, okay?"
Parker looks up at you and gives you a toothy, forced smile, almost as if he doesn't smile much in his life, and says, "Thank you, Mr. [Y/N]."
You smile and nod, handing the paper back to him, and just as someone knocks at your door, he gets up.
Opening the door, Parker comes face to face with Doctor Gerard Holden, professor of microbiology at Georgetown, and the man looks shocked for a moment before steeling his expression and saying over Parker's shoulder, "Dr. [L/N], do you have a minute to talk?"
You smile and nod, before addressing Parker again. "Parker, I want to see that essay on my desk in a week and a half at the most. I hope to see some improvement."
Parker doesn't turn around but he nods and slides out of your office as quickly as he can without touching Dr. Holden. When Parker leaves, the older man walks into your office and closes the door behind him.
"That boy is very strange. I don't know how you put up with him. I've had to kick him out of class before for being disruptive and talking out of turn," he says and you sigh.
"He's a good kid and an even better student. I bet if you pushed him a little more, and actually called on him in class, he wouldn't interrupt so much," you say and the doctor in front of you is pale. "But, I hope you didn't come here to discuss our students."
The man shakes his head and goes into a lengthy question about having you guest lecture during one of his classes. You agree quickly and get the time and date and what you'll be covering before Dr. Holden opens the door to your office.
You see Parker standing on the other side of the door, and you know he heard everything you and Dr. Holden discussed about him.
"They do not love that do not show their love." –The two Gentlemen of Verona
It's a Saturday. You and Spencer are sitting in your apartment reading. Spencer's stack next to him is significantly smaller than yours, and whenever he finishes a book, he places it on your stack. Whenever you finish yours, you place your book on the ground and pick up whatever book Spencer just finished reading.
It's nice.
"If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die." –Twelfth Night
"Come on! I don't want us to miss this!" Spencer exclaims, grabbing your hand, and pulling you along as he runs through the small park.
"Wait! Spencer! I didn't know we were running! I would have brought my inhaler!" you exclaim as you try and keep pace.
Spencer doesn't stop though as he says, "It's not far, now come on!" The two of you continue to run through the trees, and eventually you come upon a clearing. There are a few couples there, but not actually as many as you would have expected. The thing that shocks you the most are the group of college age students all standing around with boxes in their hands.
"Spencer what-"
"Shh!"
You step closer to him, still holding his hand as the students all step up, and take the tops off the boxes. Light start flying out of the uncovered cardboard boxes and you realize that they're lightning bugs.
You gasp as a swarm flies towards you before dispersing into a hazy cloud of blinking yellow and green emanating from the lower abdomen. You reach out and the bugs fly away from your hand in streaks of light and you laugh. You turn, grinning at Spencer's face. He's looking right at you.
In the low glow, you can see Spencer's handsome features on display. His cheekbones are softer in the light, his auburn hair a deep brown and his hazel eyes reflecting spots of green back at you. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek. He looks beautiful.
"What is this?" you ask, breathless.
He smiles softly and you look down at his lips. They look inviting. "The biology majors at Howard under Professor Trudy study fireflies for a semester before releasing them here. Did you know that many fireflies do not produce light? Usually these species are diurnal, or day-flying, such as those in the genus Ellychnia. A few diurnal fireflies that inhabit primarily shadowy places, such as beneath tall plants or trees, are luminescent. One such genus is Lucidota. Non-bioluminescent fireflies use pheromones to signal mates. This is supported by the fact that some basal groups do not show bioluminescence and use chemical signaling, instead. Phosphaenus hemipterus has photic organs, yet is a diurnal firefly and displays large antennae and small eyes. These traits strongly suggest pheromones are used for sexual selection, while photic organs are used for warning signals."
You're silent for a minute before you say, "You said firefly."
Spencer frowns. "Huh?"
"You said firefly. People around here say 'Lightning bug,' which means you're not from around here. Where are you from?" you ask, and his frown subsides.
"Las Vegas," he says and you smile.
"You're a long way from home," you reply, looking around at the lightning bugs floating lazily around you, taking in their new environment. You look back at him and say, "I'm glad you're here Spencer. I'm glad I ran into you at the book shop. Literally," you say, laughing lightly.
"Me too," Spencer says with a small smile on his face.
You lean up and kiss him, quickly, before pulling back, not really giving him a chance to react. He stares at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, before leaning in and capturing his lips in yours again. You lean against him, turning so your front is pressed against his, he places his hands on your hips and you thread yours through his hair and rest them on the back of his neck.
When you pull away, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you're so lost in Spencer's eyes you hardly notice.
"I am not bound to please thee with my answers." –The Merchant of Venice
You jump as someone hits their bowl a little too hard with their spoon, causing a loud crashing noise it seems like only you can hear. You can feel your heart rate picking up as another person accidentally drops a glass on the floor, shattering it. Your eyes dart around as people talk loudly over one another, shouting to be heard over the low din of the restaurant.
"[Y/N]!"
You look up at Spencer sharply, your eyes going wide.
"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching a hand out. You nod but don't take his hand, instead picking at your nails underneath the table. "I was just talking about the underlying effects of corsetry in the modern era…" Spencer continues as if nothing is wrong but another loud crash causes you to jump and lose focus from him again.
You hear Spencer sigh and you look up at him, your cheeks flaming up. "Sorry…" you mutter.
"What's wrong?" he asks plainly.
"I-" you begin to say, but flinch as someone laughs loudly at a table nearby you. "I don't really like restaurants. They're too… loud."
Spencer looks at you with that blank stare for a moment before sighing in what you hope is of relief. "Same here. A co-worker of mine suggested I take you out to dinner and when I told him I don't like restaurants either, he just said you would," Spencer explains.
You frown. "Who did he think I was? We read books in your apartment all the time!"
Spencer looks away sheepishly and pulls his hands into his lap. "I haven't used pronouns for you, so he assumed you were a woman."
You snort. "Wouldn't be the first time." Spencer frowns at you. "I've dated a lot of bisexual men with straight colleagues. The co-workers always assume I'm a woman."
Spencer nods, and the two of you are silent once again in the loud restaurant. You flinch once more as something crashes together, and Spencer sighs.
"Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asks, almost begging.
You nod enthusiastically. "Yes. Please. We can go back to mine?" Your eyes widen at that. "Not for sex!" you exclaim and a few people look over at you. You blush in embarrassment and say, quieter, "I-I just meant to read or watch a documentary or something. I didn't mean to imply."
Spencer smiles softly. "It's okay. I didn't even realize. I'm not sexually attracted to people."
Your eyes widen and you grin. "Me neither!"
Spencer grins with you and the two of you hastily pay and make a quick exit out of the busy restaurant.
"God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another." –Hamlet
"Mr. [L/N]?"
You jump and look up from your work and see Parker standing in your office. You put a hand over your heart and laugh. "Parker! You scared me!"
"Sorry…" he says, not making eye contact.
You chuckle as you say, "I should put a bell on you…" you see Parker flush a deep red but you ignore it. "So, what can I do you for?"
Silently, still red and blushing, Parker pulls out a stapled stack of papers from his backpack and holds it out to you. You take it and see it's the revised version of his essay you failed last week.
"I did want you asked…" he says quietly and you quickly look over the first page.
You smile up at him, grateful. "Thank you, Parker. I'll get it back to you by the end of the week-"
"NO!" he shouts and you jump at that.
"Parker, I have a lot of work to do and-"
But he cuts you off again, shouting, "No! Get it done now!"
You sigh, knowing he's not going to relent, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. "Okay. How about this. How many classes do you have left today?"
"Two…" Parker says, and you almost miss it seeing as he's so quiet.
You nod. "Okay. How about I work on it while you're in class and you can come back after."
Parker nods and without another word, leaves your office. You sigh loudly and lean your head into your hands.
"I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind." –Hamlet
That night, you're sitting in Spencer's apartment, his head in your lap as you both read. You can't help but think of Parker, of hearing him yell for the first time since you met him. The boy was always so quiet, except in class where he was engaged and able to answer every question, even if his answers were a little all over the place.
"[Y/N]?" You hear Spencer ask and you look down at him, dazed.
"Huh?"
"You haven't even looked at your book for six minutes and twenty-seven seconds," Spencer says and you frown. You put your book face down next to you on the side table and rub your hands over your face. You feel hands at your wrists, and they tug slightly, pulling your hands away from your face. "What's going on?"
"Just a student of mine yelled at me today," you say. Spencer frowns and you lean down, kissing where his brow was furrowed. "It's okay. I've just never seen him even raise his voice above a whisper besides when we're in class. And even then he doesn't yell." You pause, and sit back up. Spencer sits up as well and lets go of your wrists, leaning into your side. "A lot of the students and faculty don't like him because he's disruptive in class, but I know he's a good student. He's driven and knows a lot. He just needs to be pushed in the right way." You sigh again and lean over to rest your head on Spencer's shoulder. "I told him that I would finish editing his essay by the end of the week but he yelled at me, telling me to finish it right then and there. I told him I would finish it by the end of the day. I knew he wasn't going to stop asking, so I made a compromise I thought he could live with."
You look up at Spencer's face and see him frowning. "How long has he been like this with you?"
You let out a huff of humorless laughter. "What, you jealous?" you ask, joking.
Some of the tension eases from Spencer's face but he doesn't stop frowning.
"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just cautious." He looks into your eyes as he says, "You should be too."
You sigh and lean down, kissing him. "I know. I will be. I just don't want to push him away. I think I'm the only friendly face he has around campus…"
Spencer nods, and opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it, and the two of you spend the rest of your evening in silence, unanswered questions lingering in the air between you.
"Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall." –Romeo and Juliet
"You okay?" you ask Spencer one night while you're sitting on your bed together, watching something on your laptop. Tonight you were trying to get him into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he seemed more distracted than normal.
He looks up at you, a glazed look in his eyes before sighing. "The case we finished today? It was a stalker case. This man was in love with this woman and we had to make her tell him she was in love with him to get him to let his guard down," Spencer explains and you turn to face him, not saying anything. "We shot him. In the end. He died while the woman was sobbing into her husband's arms." You reach out and place a hand near Spencer, not touching him. He reaches out and takes your hand, kissing it. "I just keep thinking about how she'll never feel safe around another man again."
"You did what you could and you saved her life, Spencer," you say quietly and he looks at you sadly. "I'm so proud of you."
"But what about the people we can't save?"
You sigh and kiss Spencer lightly. "You can't think about that. Think about the families you saved, the women, the children. You saved a life! That's amazing, Spencer."
Spencer smiles and nods but he doesn't look convinced. You just kiss him again and go back to watching Buffy.
"<i>For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?</i>" –Much Ado About Nothing
You startle as a knock sounds at your door. You aren't expecting visitors. Spencer's out with work, and he said not to expect him back for a few days. It's only been two, and he can't have caught the guy that quickly already.
But when you open your door, Spencer is standing there, his eyes puffy and red, and before you can ask any questions, he's pushing himself into your arms. You stumble back and close the door before sinking to the floor, letting Spencer cry into your arms.
"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun. Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain; Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies." –Venus and Adonis
"I love you," you say one evening while you're sitting on the couch, Spencer's head in your lap. You're running your fingers through his hair as you say this, making it fan out around his head like a halo of auburn curls.
He cracks an eye open at you and smiles. "Really?"
You roll your eyes. "Yes. I do. And I just thought I should say it," you say, and Spencer sits up, leaning in to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks and smile into the soft kiss.
He pulls away and says, "I want you to meet my mom."
Your eyes go wide and you open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You frown before asking, "When?"
"I have some vacation time saved and we could wait until summer break!" Spencer exclaims, causing your frown to drop. "You're not teaching again until the second half of summer break, so we can see her then."
"I've never been to the west coast before…" you say, trailing off and looking away. Spencer goes to say something but you cut him off with a smile. "But, that's okay. I want to meet her."
Spencer grins and grabs your face, kissing you like his life depends on it. You laugh as he gets up and runs out of the living room, whooping with joy.
"I love you, Spencer Reid!" you shout.
"Love you too!" he shouts back.
"Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends." –A Midsummer Night's Dream
It's a week until the end of term, finals right around the corner, and you have been stuck in your office for most of the day. Most of the week actually. You gave your students the last few days off to study for their finals, and to finish their final essays for you while you finished editing the last of their work before you were bombarded with essays and tests.
Your phone rings on your desk, but you turn off the noise, groaning as the red light beeps incessantly. It's been doing that for the past half an hour. You even had to turn your mobile off and shove it into an unused drawer of your desk.
After another five minutes of the light beeping, you pick up your phone.
"WHAT!" you scream into the receiver.
"Uh, Dr. [L/N]?" you hear someone say quietly into the phone.
"You know, I'm very busy right now and I can't handle distractions so if you would just-"
"Someone's shooting up the school."
Your blood runs cold as a knock sounds at your door, and you watch the knob turning. You gulp as the voice on the other end of the line tries to get your attention, but you can't hear them. All you can hear is the creak of your door as it's slowly pushed open.
"Mr. [Y/N]!" You hear someone shout as they enter your office. It's Parker. And he's holding a gun. "I thought I heard you in here! Who are you talking to?"
You go to answer, but the words die in your throat.
"I- I don't actually know. They-they were calling to tell me about you," you say finally, hanging up the phone as the person yells on the other side of the line.
Parker closes your door and walks over to your desk with a happy smile on his face. "I came to get you, [Y/N]," he says, and you force a smile onto your face.
"Really?" you ask, hoping your nervousness doesn't give anything away.
He nods. "It's just you and me now! Forever!"
You gulp, but smile. "Uh huh…"
"The only thing left in our way is that whore who calls himself your boyfriend…" Parker says, and your smile drops.
"Spencer?" you can't help the wavering in your voice as you say his name.
Parker nods and places his hand against his chin. "Yes. Maybe you can call him? I'm sure he's already on his way over here."
You gulp, but nod. You pick up your desk phone and dial Spencer's number from memory. While your memory may not be anywhere close to as good as his, you forced yourself to memorize it in case it was an emergency.
After the first ring, the phone is picked up. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? I've tried calling you for the past twenty minutes and you haven't picked up!" Spencer exclaims on the other end of the line.
You take a deep breath before looking up at Parker, who's smiling expectantly at you. He nods. "Spencer, can you come to my office?"
"I'm outside. Is everything okay?" he asks.
"Tell him to leave his gun and vest outside," Parker whispers and you nod.
"You need to leave your gun and vest outside," you say, your voice shaking with every word.
"Oh!" Parker exclaims and leans forward. "And tell him if he doesn't do all that, I'm going to kill you."
You let out a sob and say into the phone, shaking, "If you don't do what's been asked, he's going to- he's going to kill me, oh!" you exclaim, another sob escaping your lips. You hear Spencer start to say something, but Parker puts a finger down on the plunger and you hear the dial tone in your ear. You slowly take the phone away from your ear and look at it shaking in your grip.
You watch absently as Parker's fingers brush yours, getting you to open your hand, and you let him take the phone, and put it back down on your desk.
You keep staring off into the middle distance, even as Parker's hand rests on your chin. He turns your head and your eyes lock onto his. You can see the simmering rage bubbling underneath the feigned love that he's projecting. It's probably not even conscious. You don't know if a man like him even <i>could</i> fall in love.
You hear a knock at your door and Parker moves away from you, but grabs your arm forcefully. Your hips push into the desk painfully and you let out a small whimper. Parker's hand on your arm relaxes slightly and he pulls you around your desk to stand next to him at his side, his gun pointed at the dark wooden door that is slowly opening.
You see Spencer slowly pushing the door open, his other hand raised to show he's unarmed.
"Stay there," Parker says, holding his gun level at Spencer's chest.
"Okay. Okay," Spencer says, putting his other hand up. "No one needs to get hurt."
Parker shakes his head. "No. No. They do. They're going to come in the way of us!"
Parker looks down at you and you look up at him, wide eyed. "No, they won't. No one can come in between us," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Spencer's right. No one needs to get hurt."
Parker closes his eyes and shakes his head again. "Spencer, Spencer… Why Spencer? Why him? Why not me?"
You grab his arm and say, "It is you, Parker! It will always be you!" you look over at Spencer, asking with your eyes if you're doing a good job, if this is what you should be doing. He gives you a miniscule nod. You remembered from before when you talked about guys like Parker. "I don't love Spencer. I love you."
Your heart breaks as you say this, but you know that Spencer knows it isn't true. Parker's the only one who needs to believe it.
"Say it," he says, before looking over at the man in question, "to him."
You gulp and look at Spencer, leaning more into Parker's side as you say, "Spencer, I don't love you. I never loved you. I'm in love with Parker. Nothing will be able to keep up apart."
"[Y/N]..." Spencer says, heartbreak evident on his face. Either he's a really good actor or he actually believes it. You sincerely hope it's the former.
Parker nods when you look at him, and grins. "Let's get out of here…" he says, holding out his hand. You take it gingerly and he pulls your back to his chest, still holding Spencer at gunpoint. He flicks the gun further into your office, and Spencer moves with his hands up, tears streaming from his face as he moves across from you in the room.
Parker backs up slowly through the room towards the door, his gun still pointed at Spencer. As soon as he steps out into the hallway, you hear the gunshot.
You feel Parker fall behind you, and you run back into your office, falling to the floor, and only then do you start crying. You sob loudly, and when you're pulled into a chest, you only cry harder.
You hear Spencer whispering to you, and you feel his tears on your hair, your neck as he says, "I can't lose you too. I can't. I just can't…"
You pull him closer, pulling your legs to your chest as you sob, "I love you. I love you so much. I didn't mean anything I said!"
"I know," he whispers, kissing your head. "I know."
"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." –Much Ado About Nothing
"I've never been to Vegas before!" you exclaim as you get off the plane. "Can we go to any casinos? I've never gambled before!"
Spencer chuckles as he grabs your hand, pulling you through the airport. "We'll see. I've been banned from a few, so I don't know if they'll let me in…" he says, trailing off and you laugh. "Did you know that what most people think of as Las Vegas is actually called Paradise? In the late 1940s, after the second world war was over, the city of Las Vegas actually banned gambling. The rich gamblers in town weren't happy with that so they created a town called Paradise and made gaming legal there. Well, it's not a town, but more like unincorporated land that doesn't follow Las Vegas' laws."
You grin and grab your bag when it comes around. While Spencer was talking, you had gone to the baggage claim and your bag had already been around once. While Spencer was used to traveling light, with only a go bag, you were not.
"I did not know that," you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he pulls out towards the exit.
You get the car he rented and you let him drive you to Bennington. He wanted to go back to the hotel for a night before seeing his mom, but you didn't want him to waste any more time. You would freshen up after.
You and Spencer are ushered through the sterilized, but still personable, halls of the sanitarium, and into a large room with a couple of other people in it. You see a blonde, short haired woman sitting on a couch and Spencer starts walking over to her.
When she sees him, her face lights up and she exclaims, "Spencer!"
"Hey mom," he says, giving her a wave. "I wanted to introduce you to someone."
She turns and looks you up and down, before wringing her hands out and looking at her son. "Is this the man you told me about in your letters?"
Your eyebrows raise at that and you ask Spencer, "You talked to her about me?" he looks at you, nervous, but you smile. "All good things, I hope." He grins and grabs your hand. You turn to Diana and hold out your hand. "Hi. I'm Dr. [Y/N] [L/N]. Spencer's told me so much about you. He really loves you."
She smiles and takes your hand lightly before letting go. "Yes, he's told me a lot about you too. He loves you too," she says, and you smile at him.
"And I love him," you reply.
"Journeys end in lovers' meeting; every wise man's son doth know" –Twelfth Night
#Spencer reid#spencer reid x male reader#spencer reid x you#spencer read x reader#diana reid#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n#spencer reid x y/n#my work#my writing
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What could deeper role of Wet Nurse be
There is some line about prayers Fishing Hamlet denizens are chanting that always seemed odd for me, as I did not know what sense to make out of it:
(You will see some unpolished direct wording from Last Protagonist's document ( x ) just in case so something doesn't get lost in translation!)
So it seems more like they're asking someone "who have no blood" to curse the hunters to avenge Kos and the baby, whoever it is. It made me think it must be someone at least equal in power, perhaps a Great One as well. Well, here is the thing:
Wet Nurse indeed is a Great One that doesn't bleed! Oedon could count as that too, but his true nature does manifest in the bloodspill as lore says, however I think it is important to pay attention at Wet Nurse's bird-ish nature, because:
Messengers are spirits of the dead so it is not too wild to assume that the sentiment means, for their souls to end in the Dream, away from the Hunt! "Birds" deliver them there, right...? But as the player progresses the Hunt, more messengers appear in the Dream, yet when we arrive in the Dream there are only so many messengers! So, logically, those gathered in previous Nights of the Hunt became Winter Lanterns now. To clean the space for next night, and well... to not let spirits of the dead rest.
Notice that Winter Lanterns are only found in the nightmare-hosting locations specifically AND they DO hum Mergo's Lullaby! So maybe Wet Nurse herself, or at least higher beings like her are responcible. Hearing the prayers of victims of the hunters to never let anyone rest in peace, and answering them because Great Ones often do.
(Kind of messed up how both heads of Winter Lanterns and Brain of Mensis are made of multiple bodies melted to look like a brain lined with eyes, like sinister foreshadowing of what Insight truly means... or perhaps mockery from Great Ones, for atrocities humans committed for eyes on the brain.)
Interestingly, both ingame weapons associated with killing people to free them from the Nightmare and the Hunt are made of some sort of cosmic material, 'meteorite' adaptation works too, but Wet Nurse herself is very grim reaper appearing. Maybe she interfered with a legitimately well-intended process of "burials", or maybe whatever power inspired Gehrman to create such weapons was deceit of the century!
I think it is entirely palatable she is doing it, she is all feathery, even her arms are. It is interesting how humanoid (pthumerian) she looks though, accessories and stance and sword/cloning skills similar to what Queen Yharnam uses, whereas being a Great One! She might have been an ascended Pthumerian, maybe even one blessed directly rather than those who struggle hard to ascend so she can do service!
(Some datamined names taken from this ( x ) page)
I talked more elaborate way about this theory in this ( x ) post but I think that Ebrietas (and other celestial children who are still... children) and Amygdalae carry strong parallel of angels vs demons in the lore! Basically, Amygdalae are evil, 'fallen' versions of celestial children. Nightmare Apostles appear to descend from Pthumerian culture so naturally that they reside in Nightmare of Mensis as well and not only dungeons, and if Patches is any indication they evolved through "forbidden" knowledge Amygdalae distribute (for sacrifices)! Spider people even travel between waking world and Nightmare with ease like Amygdalae!
Worth to mention that more literally internal name of Wet Nurse translates as 'Death and Darkness Univercity' or 'Death and Darkness graduatee' so maybe this "evil" knowledge is distrubuted by herself. Nurturing Mergo so the Nightmare is growing is just what she is doing right now.
However, previously I did not notice that by internal names Wet Nurse is from this "evil" side too! Besides whereas Queen Yharnam clearly wants Mergo to be free from torment, Shadows of Yharnam fight you - preventing you from reaching Byrgenwerth (so, to uncover the ritual) in waking world and preventing you from reaching Mergo in the Nightmare of Mensis! I had this headcanon that Wet Nurse losing her own child was result of being cursed by Moon Presence for 'betraying' her, so technically, she takes what IS her by holding Mergo hostage...
In any case, seems like literally every Pthumerian is more interested in nourishing the Nightmare than in poor baby's fate, except for his mother, even her servants (?) are against her interests. This is just sad.
#bloodborne#mergo's wet nurse#bloodborne winter lantern#fishing hamlet#nightmare of mensis#bloodborne theory#not art#text post#i also like to think baby amys can be born through whatever unholy ritual queens of blood do#meanwhile celestial children like arianna's baby are gifted#but naturally amygdalae that once were cosmic kin but defected from will of the cosmos/moon are more woke#maybe born ones are eyeless but fallen ones are those badass with bright yellow eyes!#i want to make a very big post about my theories on every great one but it will be so big that like#i better stay focused for now#i am dying to talk about kos and her baby
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Siblings, Origami, and Slightly Wasted Potential
Hi. Me again. I have some thoughts on Origami King and the ideal future we could have had.
(Spoilers for Origami King!)
(image recreation)
Last time on the analysis show, I took a look at the characterization of Paper Luigi (which is a pretty good read, I’ve been told). This time, I’d like to build on that a little more by addressing Paper Mario’s other pair of iconic siblings- Olly and Olivia.
Specifically, the way I believe they have the ability to parallel Paper Mario and Paper Luigi.
So, to lay out some basic facts (as is usually necessary to make a strong foundation), I’d like to talk a bit about Mario and Luigi’s relationship with one another.
Thanks to Luigi gaining importance in the Mario series as a whole, he’s been equipped with some new abilities and stories of his own. However, thanks to Mario encompassing everything heroic under the sun, a lot of the time, Luigi tends to need to take the ‘road less traveled’ of abilities and stories. This may just be an out-of-character thing, but over time, it’s given Luigi this sort of niche that he fills compared to Mario.
Me, personally, I like to call Mario a ‘sun sibling’ and Luigi a ‘moon sibling’.
The sun is associated with brightness, happiness, daytime- the time that most people use to the fullest. A sunny day will bring a smile to anyone. Mario has the same happy aesthetics as the daytime, his adventures always triumphant and basking in the spotlight.
... (And sometimes, they’re quite literally ‘sunny’ adventures.)
Compare this to the moon- the nighttime. In popular culture, the night, darkness and even the moon have been used to signify darkness, mystery. The night in and of itself is something that’s only designated to ‘night owls’- it takes a lot of active planning to stay up for a lot of the night. However, the moon itself isn’t inherently dark- people still need it to get their eight hours. Even though the night’s job isn’t the same as the day’s, it’s still important...
...when the sun is hiding away.
That little bit of poetry aside, Luigi’s ‘dark’ and ‘against the norm’ aesthetic can be seen pretty much everywhere you look, even if you’re not much for my metaphors.
Luigi’s flagship series being all about ghost-hunting in a spooky, dark mansion...
(Which, by the way, in Mario Super Sluggers, can only be accessed at NIGHT!!! !!!)
Luigi being the one who has access to the mysterious and vague dream world powers,
Whatever this was,
This fucking guy,
You get the point.
Which leads me to my next point: Olivia and Olly are also Sun Sibling and Moon Sibling.
I’m sure this is fairly obvious to anyone who looks. Olivia is bubbly, excitable, friendly, and kind.
Olly is, um.
Not that.
(Oh also, their colour schemes the ‘night’ and ‘day’ colour schemes of Scorching Sandpaper Desert. So there’s that.)
So now we’ve established that
But here’s the thing. Siblings is not the same. See, there’s something different about Olly and Olivia compared to Mario and Luigi.
Olly is the older sibling. And just like that... Luigi’s primary reason for being a ‘moon’ sibling is just straight-up not available to Olly. Luigi got his quirks from being in Mario’s shadow, but Olly is new... fresh. He just is this way. It’s not a phase, CRAFTSMAN.
This poses some... interesting ideas when it’s presented next to the Mario brothers, though. Olivia is the younger sibling, who seems to look up to Olly just as much as Luigi looks up to Mario. Or at least... she’d like to.
Despite having LITERALLY NO EVIDENCE to believe this, Olivia spends the entire game saying that she believes Olly can be talked down from this. She almost treats Olly and his entire evil plan as two separate entities, almost like Olly is a damsel she has to rescue. Don’t get me wrong, she never shies away from saying her brother needs to be stopped, but considering what seemingly little reason Olly gives for her to believe he’s worth saving... (sorry Olly. You lived then you put your dad in a wall. Life’s tough like that. Also you put a rock on her.) She’s persistent.
Imagine how that must feel to Mario, seeing someone- seeing a Luigi who’s not the meek, mysterious one, but just as bright and bubbly as him. They grow so close throughout all this, but... Mario isn’t HER brother. And Olivia isn’t HIS sibling.
And neither of them forget that. Even for one second.
It makes us almost sigh in relief that Mario is such a good role model to both Olivia and Luigi, because Olivia shows us this idea of the underdog sibling not HAVING a forever-kind older brother. It’s... kinda sad. No, really sad. Olivia and Olly WANT to be a pair, but neither of them agree. They both want to ‘save’ each other, but they must keep battling if they want their side to win.
This on its own is pretty interesting, but I want to cover the ‘slightly missed potential’ part. If you think Olivia and Mario’s parallels are a good story bit... can you IMAGINE what Olly and Luigi would be like?
Referencing my Luigi analysis again, I concluded that Luigi has a bit of an inferiority superiority complex- a TV trope where someone’s feelings of inadequacy are often masked by an overconfidence, trying to hide that horrible blemish.
(Don’t worry. He gets better.)
Now, I wouldn’t say Olly is secretly insecure or anything- far from it. He is, however, EXCEEDINGLY confident, in both his abilities and his beliefs. He truly seems to believe that the ways of origami are glorious and that folding the kingdom will be a sort of ‘rebirth’. The only thing that is motivated entirely by his rage (not that those other parts aren’t, this one is just really personal) is his wish to turn every Toad into blank paper. And why is that?
Because the Origami Craftsman scribbled on him. It’s a blemish, and one that he keeps hidden VERY easily. (I mean, you don’t see it here, do you?)
...Interestingly, Olly has this line here:
He says he made Olivia ‘too perfect’. It’s backhanded, sure, but... it’s still a compliment. He thinks his sister is perfect. She is perfect. He is blemished.
The sun sibling is perfect...
The moon sibling isn’t.
This is why I think Olly and Luigi should have had some form of interaction. Luigi is this perfect mentor figure for the young king. Even though he wouldn’t be able to make a dent in Olly’s ideology or Toad-hating, there is one thing... one thing Olly might still be able to turn to the good side for.
His sister.
Despite the fact that Origami Castle gets folded to life before Mario’s very eyes, which is when Olly has asked time and time again for Olivia to join him, and she’s still refused, the castle is still LITTERED with decorations of BOTH OF THEM.
Olly still loves his sister. And he doesn’t want to lose her- even if he is blinded by rage. I think if Luigi was around Olly somehow, for most of the game (my personal idea would be that Luigi just can’t be folded somehow and Olly has no choice but to keep him in Peach’s Castle because he might help Mario otherwise), then he could say, from personal experience, how blind rage doesn’t solve anything... how your relationship with your sibling is the most precious thing in the world, should you keep it correctly.
How... he KNOWS Olivia really looks up to him and looks to him for guidance, because he’s the exact same way. And how Olivia needs her big brother.
Maybe Olly has some second thoughts, but convinces himself it’ll all be for the greater good. He just needs to defeat that red plumber.
That green plumber’s... big brother.
All in all, I think it could really have made Olly and Olivia even more impactful than they already are. At least they finally get reunited...
Even if it’s only for a brief moment.
#paper mario#mario#origami king#pmtok#origami king spoilers#king olly#[BANGING POTS AND PANS] IM BAAAAACK
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“For the record, when I said I’m willing to learn more about downworld culture, this is not what I meant.”
Lily, who was sitting sideways on the loveseat gave him a glare. “Does he always complain this much during movie nights?”
“Always,” Magnus sighed. “But luckily I know how to shut him up.”
“Magnus,” he hissed, blushing furiously and then looked at Lily again. “How is this relevant to our work?”
“Twilight is a cultural reset for vampires, Alec,” Lily rolled her eyes.
“But it’s not even accurate representation,” Alec pointed out. “The vampires glisten in sunlight. They glisten!”
“Nobody is here for accurate representation,” Magnus replied. “And if you want New York vampires to glisten, I can help with that.”
“Magnus is right,” Maia agreed, her words barely recognizable due to all the popcorn crammed in her mouth. “I’m just here for Robert Pattinson.”
“You’re supporting the vampire?” Alec asked in disbelief. “But you are-”
“I’m a simple woman,” Maia shrugged.
“For the record, I hope everyone here is team Edward,” Lily said – or kind of threatened. “Or I will be having words!”
Alec rolled his eyes and continued watching the movie. They were on the third one now.
He never enjoyed watching mundane movies. He did watch them with Magnus of course, but that was mostly because they got to cuddle on the sofa and would always end up making out halfway through.
Besides, he had never done a movie night with friends before. He could barely get through one. This one apparently had four.
“We are done with the fourth one, right?” Alec whispered to Magnus.
“Well, technically the fourth one has two parts,” Magnus chuckled.
“What? Why can’t they just say what they want to say in one movie?”
Lily looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “Lightwood, if you don’t want to watch the movies, just say so. But be warned, the New York vampire clan might hold a grudge.”
“And they are immortal,” Maia pointed out unhelpfully.
Alec grumbled and laid back on the couch crossing his arms.
By the time they finished up the third one, Alec just wanted go to sleep. But he had promised Lily and they were kind of having fun.
Most nights with the downworld alliance involved strategic planning and heated debates and roundtable discussions. But Magnus had suggested that if Alec wanted to work with downworlders, he should understand them better.
Alec had a fairly decent understanding of warlocks and their lives. So, it was only fair that he learned about the other fractions as well.
He had spent the last week working with Maia’s pack and learning more about the Praetor and their work.
This week was supposed to be spent at Hotel Dumort. But unfortunately for him, Lily’s teaching methods were not conventional.
“You can get through this, darling,” Magnus kissed him the cheek. “The wedding is in this one.”
“They finally get married?” Alec asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. “How does Bella’s dad feel about this?”
“You will see soon enough,” Lily winked and pressed play.
“Did you force Raphael to watch these too?” Magnus asked, his voice melancholic but fond.
“No one can force Raphael to do anything,” Lily replied. “But he did watch them out of spite and claimed he is team Jacob just to piss off the clan.”
Magnus laughed, the sound vibrating in Alec’s heart. “That sounds like something he would do.”
Alright. It wasn’t that bad. Maybe they should make movie nights a weekly thing. As long as Simon didn’t know about it.
Lily’s phone rang and she picked up with a groan. “What did you do, Elliot?”
Someone, Elliot, was talking rapidly on the other side and Alec thought he heard the sound of dolphins.
“Hold on,” she snapped into her phone and got off the floor. She looked at Alec. “I’ll be back in a minute. Keep watching!”
Maia got up quickly, picking up the bowl of popcorn with her. “I’m gonna keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t throw her phone at a poor mundane again. But keep watching!”
Alec looked at them worried and then at Magnus. “Should we go help?”
“They will ask for help if they need it,” Magnus kissed his cheek again. “Just relax. And no, you are not getting out of this.”
Alec pouted but pulled Magnus closer against him and laid his head on the warlock’s shoulders. “It’s kinda pretty.”
“What is kinda pretty?”
“The wedding.”
“Hmmm,” Magnus said. “I’ve always thought forest weddings are a little tacky.”
“You wouldn’t get married in a forest?” Alec chuckled.
“Well, before Ragnor died, I wouldn’t have,” Magnus said, his tone a little nostalgic. “The bastard wouldn’t have attended and just said I didn’t notice because he camouflaged with the trees.”
Alec chuckled softly. “How about now?”
“What about now?”
“Where would you like to get married now?”
Magnus smiled, but it wasn't his regular one. They had been together long enough for Alec to recognise the happy ones and the sad ones.
“I haven’t really thought about it. Marriage is not meant for people like me.”
“People like you?” Alec raised his head. “You mean warlocks?”
“Immortals,” Magnus corrected. “Do you know how mundane wedding vows go?”
Alec shook his head.
“To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health,” Magnus said and paused. “Until death do us part.”
Alec wanted to ask how Magnus knew the mundane vows if he never thought about marriage. But he kept the question to himself.
Alec had always known the Nephilim wedding vows. He had memorized them, even when he had known that he would never get to say them out loud, not to someone he loved.
Maybe Magnus felt the same way. Just because something wasn’t meant for you, it didn’t mean you couldn’t dream about it.
People often only dream about things they couldn’t have.
But that wasn’t their reality anymore. At least not for long. Now they had a chance. A fighting chance.
Alec could change this. He could change all of it.
“Do you know what shadowhunters say?” Alec asked now.
Magnus thought for a moment. “It’s been a long time since I was invited to, or even attended a Nephilim wedding.”
“The Consul asks hast thou found the one thy soul loves?” Alec said and then directly looked into Magnus eyes. “And you respond with I have found and I will not let him go.”
Magnus took a little shuddery breath. And Alec knew. Magnus wanted this too. But he didn’t want to show it.
“Well, aren’t you shadowhunters cheesy,” Magnus scoffed quickly, averting his eyes.
Magnus had lived for a long time. He must have hoped for many things only to be disappointed. Alec remembered how the clave had acted after the Dark War. He remembered the cruelty of the cold peace. It was hard not to be disappointed.
It was scary to have hope. Even for an immortal.
Perhaps especially for an immortal.
Alec understand Magnus’ concerns. He didn’t reassure him right now. He will fix this instead. For Magnus. For them. For their future.
He took hold of Magnus’ fingers and threaded his own through them. He looked at the countless rings on Magnus’ lean fingers. They were beautiful. But the rings felt incomplete. His hand felt bare. Magnus needed one more and Alec was going to give it to him.
One day.
“People like you deserve the world, Magnus,” Alec whispered into his boyfriend’s shoulder.
Magnus didn’t say anything. Just kissed the top of Alec’s head.
They silent watched the movie again, Lily and Maia joining them a moment later.
After everyone left and the two of them fell asleep together that night; hair tousled, feet tangled and hearts pounding - Magnus said the words softly, but Alec heard them well and would remember years later.
“I’d like to get married near the ocean. It reminds of home.”
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close proximity // Zhongli x Reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Notes: gender neutral reader “you”, MAJOR Pining in Zhongli’s POV, touch-starved? Zhongli, domesticity
in the long haul, this would be one part of a(n indulgent self-insert) long-fic where Zhongli finds out that you (adventurer/traveler) have been camping out in the wilderness, so he invites you to crash at his place for an indeterminate amount of time
also, happy birthday zhongli :)
Zhongli thinks that he should have known that welcoming someone so late at night into his home would invite the worst of the gossip. It only grows worse when people see that you continue to come back into his house and that you even have your own key to enter with.
Luckily, the change from your original Mondstadt attire was the decisive factor that allowed you to walk the streets of Liyue relatively unseen, for you are no longer associated with being foreign or wanted by the Millelith. Instead, you are known to be the one that now apparently resides permanently (or so it seems) in Mr. Zhongli’s apartment, and the attention is now directed toward him.
You’ve even suggested that you float down and enter through an unsuspecting open window in hopes of abating the rumors, but Zhongli thinks about the implications of entering in any way other than the front door and saves himself the trouble.
You apologize every time he closes the door on a particularly chatty neighbor, but Zhongli always waves it away. He feels more than justified inviting you into his abode. After all, he has caused you the most trouble, despite what you may think of Childe, with his plans for the harbor. Allowing you to share a space with him is nothing short of a fair trade.
The feeling is only bolstered by the fact that you moved in with only the backpack hauled on your shoulder and nothing else, with Paimon wailing about how good it feels to finally have a pillow to lie on-- much to your embarrassment. (He waves your apologies to this away as well and does not speak of how the bashful expression on your face is rather endearing to see.)
It’s been a few days since the original hubbub, and the rumors have died down after numerous explanations that ‘they are a friend; yes, only a friend, and yes, we are both unmarried and the walls are thin, but you will not need to worry about any unsavory noises, as is routine.’ It’s evident that the nosiest of neighbors believe that he is lying, but he takes his words as seriously as the contracts that bind him.
If anything, the noises that can be heard are the random bursts of laughter or the playful arguments between you and Paimon. If the neighbors expected anything other than this, Zhongli cannot find it in himself to be apologetic because he cannot remember the last time his apartment was filled with so much sound or ever be so lively. The conversations seem ceaseless at times: whether he is sharing facts about Liyue Harbor or the random story he can remember that he thinks you would enjoy or whether you are the ones sharing stories of your own home-- or simply when Paimon asks a question that takes the entire night to explain.
Zhongli likes the way his stories can make you laugh. It sounded sweet on the week's journey to Daudapa Gorge, and it sounds sweeter now in the confines of his home. Sometimes, when your laughter is all spent and your eyes wet from mirth, he sees you look up at him behind a shy smile with cheeks warm from something other than osmanthus wine, and he finds that he cannot stop watching you.
That is not to say that he is lacking in amusement. Paimon herself would be fine entertainment from her ideas and dreams and strange train of thoughts, but with your quick witted humor and easy-going banter, there seems to be no end to his smiles. Even Hu Tao has pointed out that he smiles more during work in the funeral parlor, and that it was, quite frankly, a little weird. Zhongli has no problems not letting that get to him, considering her boisterous demeanor as the head of the parlor herself.
Another unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome change is the domesticity. Zhongli has always had his own routine: wake up at dawn to watch the ships leave the harbor, head over to the funeral parlor if he has been called in, peruse (and if he remembers his wallet, purchase) the new shipments, and come home for evening tea. With your presence, he finds himself waking up to sleepy Paimon and an even sleepier you, cracking an egg over the stone stove to cook breakfast. He eats in the morning now and receives an eagerly given lunchbox for him to take around when he goes to work.
The times in which you leave the apartment differs, just as the time you happen to come back, but you never fail to bid him farewell or greet him when he comes back. You tap his shoulder to call him over for dinner, and you pat his head when you head to sleep.
With you and Paimon, Zhongli gains a new routine-- one that he grows used to at an almost alarming rate, considering how unused he is to change. It’s almost a shame that this is a temporary set-up-- just until the drama dies down when Rex Lapis’ body is finally given its respects, and you can find a place to stay without being afraid of arrest. But as he has learned recently, some things are bound to change, whether he wants to or not.
Which is not a bad thing, per say, he thinks to himself, as he cuts through the onions you have asked of him. If there is anything his time as Zhongli has taught him and of his journey with you, the beauty in many things is that they do not last-- which is why it is ever more important to enjoy it while it does.
“Wow, you really don’t get bothered by the onions, huh.”
Zhongli chuckles, carefully cutting the onions for the stirfry Paimon has requested to eat tonight. He would have suggested eating at Wanmin Restaurant, but a grimace from you when you look at your wallet convinces him to suggest a home cooked meal tonight instead. “It is one of my many talents, it seems,” he says as you put your hands on your hips defiantly.
“You’re going to be cutting all the onions under this roof,” you announce, walking behind him to turn on the stove. “Ack, I can feel myself wanting to tear up just from walking past that. How do you stand that, Zhongli?”
The smell of sesame oil permeates the kitchen nicely when you pour it into the wok, the sizzling a rather pleasant sound to accompany it. “Aren’t you going to tell me where the onions come from?” You ask as he dices the volatile vegetable.
He turns his head ever so slightly at your question, surprised. He prefers to tell you inane, though fun facts and stories he thinks you would be interested in, but he is surprised every time you come to him for things about Teyvat or of Liyuen culture. Though, he would be lying to himself if that does not please him. “Is that something you would be interested in hearing?”
“Yeah,” you say, slightly distracted as you take out the ingredients from the cupboards, “I mean, Paimon and I can never find them in the wild, so I figured it doesn’t really grow naturally… so it must be from a farm?” He sees you wave a wooden spoon in question. “But where? Oh-- by the way, are the onions ready? The wok's ready."
“Ah, the onions are actually grown in the villages north of Liyue Harbor,” Zhongli replies, finishing the last of the dicing on the cutting board. “Though most of farms focus on exporting rice, there are some that farm mainly onions-- which is where you see most of the wares being brought in--”
“Oh shit, I put the fire up too high-- Zhongli, I’m going to grab the onions!”
“Ah, yes, apologies, here--”
He does not realize you are right behind him until he feels your body press against his for a moment, your hair brushing against his cheek as your arm reaches out for the cutting board. He cannot help but feel himself tense, only able to turn his head slightly just to see your face as close as it has ever been to his.
“Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, taking note of his surprised expression. “Nice cutting-- okay, time to cook--” The moment is brief as you rush to slide the onions off the board and into the flames, if the crackling is anything to go on.
But he finds that he cannot stop thinking about how ticklish your hair was on his face or how warm you were. He remembers the longest embrace in your trembling arms and of your trailing fingertips on his shoulder for a wound that does not exist.
The kitchen is at a comfortable temperature with the stove going on high, but it is by no means hot by any standards. Yet Zhongli feels his ears burn.
“Zhongli?”
He should set the table, he thinks, but for some reason, he feels an ache in a chest every time he thinks of doing anything other than feeling your warmth again.
“Zhongli?” You ask again, shaking him from his thoughts. His hand curls into itself in a moment of panic as he turns around, wondering if his distraction was obvious. If he were not a God himself, he would have thanked the higher beings that you didn't notice. “Sorry,” you say instead, “I interrupted you last time. What were you saying about the onions? Something after onion farms?”
“Ah, yes, ahem,” he starts again. “Most of the wares the Second Life sells is mainly from the villages themselves, and…”
You continue to indulge him as Zhongli speaks about the farmlands of the north and about the mountain trade routes in the east when the two of you set up supper. He tries not to think about the way your fingers brush against his when he passes you a bowl of rice or about the way your bodies press together when you wash the dishes.
(Touch-starved.
He is touch-starved, he finds out much later down the road, when he is able to hold you in his arms without needing to ask. It is why he wishes your hand would linger on his shoulder when you call him to dinner or why he finds himself relaxing at your touch.
Or why he had started hoping that you would never decide to leave.
It seems almost too obvious now, in retrospect, but Zhongli does not mind that he is constantly learning something new about what it means to be human-- not when it means he can finally hold your hand walking down Liyue Harbor and squeeze your hand and feel you squeeze back.)
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Hug a Witcher Day (3/4)
In which Jaskier goes missing in the spring. Can Geralt finally realize his feelings for the bard in the middle of a crisis?
(hurt/comfort, soft geraskier, 3k, rated T, cw: mentions of a canon-era plague, sick children, and a citywide lockdown.)
part 1, part 2, read on AO3
The third year since Jaskier invented Hug a Witcher Day, Geralt all but forgets about it completely.
He steps into the Two Weatherfish, where they agreed to meet, and realizes that the bard isn’t here. Or in the entire city of Ard Carraigh. No one has seen any trace of the famous bard who won’t quit singing praises for witchers.
Geralt pushes down the slight panic in his chest as he steps out of the last tavern in the city, and decides to just head for Oxenfurt.
It’s not like Jaskier has been the most reliable companion in the past, often distracted by dalliances or even anything shiny and new. One time he wandered off to watch a local celebration and Geralt found him hours later next to a lake, with thousands of lanterns floating above the water, illuminating the night sky like burning stars peppered on a dark canvas.
The soft, orange light spilled over Jaskier’s features, his eyes gleaming like the stars too.
Geralt snorts despite himself. There’s no doubt the bard is just delayed by someone who caught his eye and decided that a promise to a witcher isn’t all that important—the same witcher who he keeps claiming to be his best friend.
Geralt isn’t sure how to feel about that, or how to react when he finally sees Jaskier. Perhaps he will cease to talk about hunts for a while, leave the bard hanging, just so he can get a taste of the same frustration.
The pettiness remains in Geralt’s mind up until he steps into the academy and rampant fear licks up his chest.
Essi is the one who meets him at the gates, worry deep between her brows and rambling about how Jaskier never made it to the yule ball like he should. In her hands are two letters, clearly Jaskier’s handiwork judging from the neat curves and flourish, talking about his excitement to see his ‘Little Eye’ perform again, and how unfortunately his travel would be delayed due to an unexpected ailment.
Don’t you fret, poppet, for I am sure to beat this sickness within days. The promise of listening to your new ballad is already doing wonders for my health! It is a shame that my stay in Vizima is soured thus. The city, so beautifully rich in culture…
“Vizima,” Essi says frantically. “A plague broke out in the city last winter. Smallpox.”
A buzz begins to ring by Geralt’s ear, muffling out Essi’s voice and leaving only the thundering of his own heartbeat.
“They told me King Foltest sealed the gate to stop the spread, and…and no one has heard from anyone inside since then. Geralt, please, you are a witcher. Aren’t you immune to human sickness? That’s what Jaskier told me, isn’t that right?”
“I…yes.” The lump in Geralt’s throat stops any other words from getting out. His blood runs cold in the warm breeze of Oxenfurt’s spring.
“Please, Geralt, you must find him. I need to know. The university won’t allow me to go, but I…I must know. No matter what happened to him.”
The implication hangs in the air.
Tears well up in blues eyes too similar to Jaskier’s. Essi would be my sister in another life, Jaskier once commented adoringly and it’s only standing right here that Geralt can truly see the identical fierceness in her eyes.
As if Geralt needs her to ask. As if he isn’t willing to charge into the land of the dead if it means Jaskier gets out of it unscathed.
“Of course, Essi,” he promises solemnly. Her clutch on his forearm is so tight that any other man would be bruised by the force. “I promise.”
“Keep him safe, if it’s not too late.”
In his near-century long life, Geralt has rarely felt cold, unrelenting fear as he does when Essi breaks into sobs.
*
The sickness in Vizima casts a gloomy cloud over the sky, choking Geralt’s breaths. The streets are eerily empty. Only a few people will pass through in a frenzy every now and then.
Geralt’s legs take him right through the main streets, to the far corner of the city, where countless makeshift tents are set up and stretching towards the edge of the woods. If anyone has indeed fallen to the disease, that’s the most likely place they will be sent to. If anyone passes, that’s also where they keep the records so friends and families can look for their names.
Bile rises in his throat at the idea of looking through stacks of books for Jaskier’s name.
Geralt walks between hundreds of beds of one tent after another. Some healers throw him an odd look but carry on with their work, the flash of their white scrubs weaving through the busy establishment.
Against all odds, a pang of relief hits Geralt when he notices how the patients are well-treated by healers who seem to know what they are doing. The fever is brought down with a soaked cloth and a minty salve is applied for the irritation on the skin.
He searches and searches, until the sun is almost down, when—
A soft tune is carried over by the gentle breeze of spring.
And there Jaskier is, kneeling next to a little boy on a bed and humming a lullaby that Geralt only remembers vaguely. The bard is wearing the same white scrub like every carer at this camp, his brown hair slightly ruffled, and dark circles are hanging under his eyes. Geralt can see how tired he is by the hunch of his shoulders and the barely-there quiver in his singing, by his unkept stubble and the smile that’s dangerously close to falling.
And yet, he makes the most beautiful sight in the world.
Geralt stands there, drinking in the presence of his bard. The languid heartbeat of a witcher picks up, fluttering and almost bursting out of his chest.
Jaskier runs his fingers through the boy’s hair when the lullaby comes to an end. He tucks in the blanket and slowly pulls himself up, his knees creaking from the strain.
Blue eyes meet Geralt and Jaskier’s shock morphs into unbridled, blazing joy. Within the blink of an eye, the bard is standing right in front of Geralt.
“Geralt,” Jaskier breathes oh so carefully like he’s scared of waking from a dream. “What are you doing here? Wait, you don’t have any protec—oh right! Witcher biology. Can’t catch anything from us.” The bard lets out a sigh and his shoulders drop in relief. “How did you get through the gate? Punched another guard, didn’t—”
“You are okay,” Geralt says, dumbly.
“I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Jaskier frowns. “Geralt, why did you come to Vizima in the middle of a plague? Not that I’m complaining about seeing you, but how exactly did you find me?”
Geralt doesn’t want to look away from Jaskier’s face—ideally for a long time to come, but he needs to rummage through his pack for the crumpled letters.
“You sent these to Essi last winter.”
Jaskier takes the letters, flattens the frayed edges before reading his own words.
“Yes, I did tell her…” Cold horror takes Jaskier aback. “Shit. She must think—Oh, Geralt, that wasn’t it! I only caught a stomach bug. It was never the pox! But then…they locked the city gate so fast and everything was in chaos for weeks. I couldn’t get more letters out. Oh, I wish I could take it back! I didn’t think—”
“You damn well didn’t.”
The words come out a lot harsher than Geralt intended, and Jaskier flinches back. Geralt pinches at the bridge of his nose, feeling contrite at his untimely outburst.
“No, Jask—I’m not…” he heaves out a sigh. “She didn’t even know if you were alive for months.”
Neither did I.
“I’m so sorry.” Jaskier is close to tears. “She must be worried sick.”
“She is.”
I was.
“And you too, Geralt. Please forgive me.” Jaskier’s chin wobbles, his arms hovering between the two of them as if he wants to put them around Geralt. “I want to ask you not to be cross with me again, but that seems to be all I do.”
“Jaskier…”
Geralt calls out when he finds not even an ounce of anger in his heart, not when he just spent weeks fearing the worst, not when Jaskier is standing right in front of him, safe and hale, his eyes flowing with guilt.
Jaskier might just be the death of him.
“Fuck. Just don’t pull this again.” Geralt softens his tone, knowing how unfair the request is when such things are out of Jaskier’s control, but the bard replies in earnest.
“I won’t. I swear.”
Exhaustion washes over the bard once again, making him look a lot older than he is. From the looks of it, Jaskier has been working in these camps for months and the last thing he needs is an unsupportive friend.
And Geralt doesn’t intend to become one.
“And you are dressed like this because?” Geralt nudges Jaskier in the shoulder to ease the apprehension on his face.
“Funny you should ask.” The bard presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. “I may have lied—nay, implied—that the seven degrees I acquired at Oxenfurt included…medicine. Hold on! Before you judge, I do know how to care for pox patients. I caught it as a child too and that’s why I’ve been fine this whole time.”
“Hmm. But you don’t have the—”
“The scars. No thanks to my grandmother’s secret healing salve that she insisted on keeping secret. It worked like a charm back then, almost like magic. We’ve been trying to replicate from whatever I remember. The mint is helping a little but something is still missing. Oh, well.” The bard rubs his fingers at the hem of his scrub. “Perhaps that explains all these crazy rumors about her heritage, with all her herbs and teas that always miraculously cured everybody. Honestly, I don’t even blame them.”
Geralt muses the possibility of Jaskier’s grandmother not being completely human and makes a silent decision to unpack it later.
“Then I guess your personal experience should come in handy if we are going to stay here for a while.”
“We? You are staying?”
“The exits are still closed.” Geralt tilts his head in nonchalance. “Might as well lend them a hand.”
And never take his eyes off of Jaskier again.
“That’s…wonderful, in a terrible, terrible way. Being trapped in the same place during a plague. Gods, that sounds like something out of the cheesiest romance novel.” Jaskier gasps as soon as the words are out. The smile on his face blossoms into a heated blush.
“Just promise me one thing, Jask.”
“What?” The cornflower blue eyes uncharacteristically avoid Geralt in a vain attempt to hide how flustered he is.
Don’t scare me like this again.
Don’t get taken from me.
Don’t leave me.
“Read less romance novels. Once this blows over,” Geralt answers, finally.
The fluttering in his chest returns, although this time for a completely different reason. The reason not being how adorable Jaskier looks embarrassed and rosy-cheeked.
No. Definitely not.
*
“Little Simon asleep?”
Geralt asks as he stokes the fire, watching Jaskier struggle out of the sweat-soaked scrub and throw it into the laundry pile. The bard sits down next to him on the log with a groan and leans into his arm.
“As flattered as I am that he can’t fall asleep without my songs, it does get a bit taxing to sing every night while kneeling on the floor.”
“The kid is sick. Can’t blame him for having bad taste in music.”
The jab would have landed better if he isn’t wrapping his arm around Jaskier so that he can rest his head on Geralt’s shoulder. The days are too long even with most of the patients released home, and it’s been taking a toll on Jaskier.
“Cruel to me when I’m down, huh?”
Under Geralt’s palm, it’s unmistakable that Jaskier’s arm isn’t as thick as it once was, and he really doesn’t want to think about how the sharp of Jaskier’s jaw is becoming more prominent by the day.
Geralt rubs gently up and down Jaskier’s bicep to draw a contented purr out of him.
“Hmm. Now you’re forgiven.” Jaskier nuzzles into the crook of Geralt’s neck so his muscles loosen under the ministration. “It’s so unfair that a shift never wears you out like the rest of us, my dear. So unfair that you don’t need as much food too. I’d kill for some witcher superpowers these days.”
“Trust me, you won’t like what they cost.”
The late summer heat, mixed with the smell of sweat in Jaskier’s hair, should make it extremely uncomfortable to be sitting so close, but Geralt only finds it calming to have Jaskier sagging against him.
Jaskier’s thinning shoulder is too worrisome. Geralt will have to leave him most of the dinner rations again. Excuses are so easy to find, once Geralt realized that Jaskier never questions what he’s told about witcher biology, trusting every word from Geralt’s mouth. It’s just a little lie, a little exaggeration.
The bard is rubbing off on him.
“Simon is among the last ones here,” Jaskier says tiredly into Geralt’s neck. “It will soon be over. They are saying everyone can go in a month or so.”
“We can go even now.”
The prospect of traveling again stirs up something hopeful under Geralt’s skin, prickling with excitement, but he knows more patience is required for now.
“Nah, I should at least see little Simon home. You were right that the boy has suffered enough. The fever is terrible. Even I still have nightmares about it after so many years. It’s excruciating, almost like death is trying to mock you. One moment a fire burns through your whole body, the next it swallows you whole into this…nothingness, cold and alone.”
Geralt tightens his hold and breathes in the melancholic scent emanating from Jaskier’s skin.
“It was my grandmother, again. She sang the same lullaby to me every night, kept me sane. It’s helping little Simon too.”
“It’s in elvish,” Geralt murmurs absently when Jaskier is close to drifting off. The bard’s leveled breathing fans over the collar of Geralt’s neck.
“…hmm?”
“Nothing. Maybe for later.”
Geralt’s fingers reach the side of Jaskier’s head and thread between the soft brown locks, keeping his drooping head in place for the nap. When he looks down to where Jaskier casually drapes over half of his body, the two of them almost melding into one, Geralt is suddenly hit with how much their relationship has changed over the past few years, and at the same time, how it feels completely natural like puzzles fitting into place.
This newfound intimacy should scare Geralt, but strangely, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because the witcher has learned long ago to treasure his bard as a companion and friend, to protect him and care for him, even without ever admitting it out loud.
Maybe he should.
And what would he even say? Geralt is equally elated and stumped at the thought of the two of them growing into something more. If the fluttering in his chest is a result of loving Jaskier, the bard deserves to know, and he deserves the best words.
Geralt scoffs softly when he realizes that he’d kill for something completely opposite. Not the strength of a witcher, but the silver tongue of a bard, the ability to weave the most beautiful prose to describe what Jaskier means to him.
The summer cicadas are singing with renewed vigor, the sizzling sound disrupting his train of thought. For now, Geralt will need to content himself in simply being with Jaskier.
And, perhaps, in pressing a tiny kiss into his soft brown hair as well. Under the night sky, only the stars will know.
--
I didn't know plague doctor Jaskier could be a thing until I started writing this chapter, and the ending just had to make way for it. Sorry that the chapter count has gone up. I promise hugs are cuddles are on the way! <3
Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette
Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3
#geraskier#geraskier fic#geralt x jaskier#soft geralt#hug a witcher day#soft jaskier#cw: plague#guess this should be a warning#protective geralt#essi daven#jaskier sings to children
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Mahito and Todo
Gionshōja no kane no koe, Shogyōmujō no hibiki ari. Sarasōju no hana no iro, Jōshahissui no kotowari wo arawasu. Ogoreru mono mo hisashikarazu, tada haru no yo no yume no gotoshi. Takeki mono mo tsui ni wa horobin(u), hitoeni kaze no mae no chiri ni onaji.
The sound of the Gion Shōja bells echoes the impermanence of all things; the color of the sāla flowers reveals the truth that the prosperous must decline. The proud do not endure, they are like a dream on a spring night; the mighty fall at last, they are as dust before the wind.
Todo is quoting the Tale of the Heike, one of the most famous stories in japanese literature. The central theme of the story is the Buddhist law of impermanence, specifically in the form of the fleeting nature of fortune. It’s remarking on the transitory nature of life. In other words, nothing is permanent.
However, Todo only quotes the first part of the text. However, we are the exception! Is something Todo added. Not only is he altering a classical text which has implications of arrogance in a cultural context, Todo is also turning the quote around entirely to say that even if everything in the world is fading, his friendship with Yuji will never fade.
All of this to say, that Todo and Mahito’s philosophies towards life are complete opposites. Mahito represents the inevitability of decay, which is why his touch destroys whereas Todo insists he is stronger than that decay, then that inevitability, and arrogant enough to fight against it. More on their character foiling under the cut.
1. Life Circles
The 4-character expression (yojijukugo) "the prosperous must decline" (盛者必衰, jōshahissui) is a phrase from the Humane King Sutra, in full "The prosperous inevitably decline, the full inevitably empty" (盛者必衰、実者必虚, jōsha hissui, jissha hikkyo).
Mahito as a character is someone very observant of natural law, and the nature of the world around him. His closest friends are all literally made to be embodiments of nature as cursed spirits.
The budhist law of impernanence is another natural law, remarking that with time everything fades. Eventually everything in this world will die. LIfe is fleeting, etc. etc. Mahito as a character has a special understanding of both the composition of the soul and the body. He can see through it in a way that others can’t.
However, his ability to see the soul causes him to dismiss it as nothing special. It is just another part of life. Mahito as a character observes and compeltely obeys both natural law and his nature. He is a curse. He’s there to curse people. He does that to his fullest ability. To Mahito life circles around. It cycles. Everything living must inevitably die, and because of that there’s really no point in attaching meaning to something imperanent.
Mahito just sees it as something that goes in circles. He doesn’t see the soul as anything special. Humans and curses both have souls, so they’re completely equal in his eyes. Human awareness, reason, logic, emotions, values, connections, doesn’t add anything to it, because Mahito can’t see them therefore it’s all made up. Mahito’s argument towards life then becomes very nihilistic.
Everything is the same in his eyes. Mahito can twist a human form to a fat, bulbous monster, but he still sees it as a human because there’s a human soul dwelling inside of it. Mahito rejects the idea that any of these things, human reason, human emotions, give any sort of value to life.
Mahito is inherently nihilistic, at least in the sense of moral nihilism. There is no meaning to life, therefore it gives me liscense to do whatever I want. He doesn’t have any respect for life in the slightest. Everything is fleeted to Mahito, so he’s completely without respect, and without sentiment, because to Mahito there is no point in getting invested in something that is inevitably going to die anyway.
Mahito is the embodiment of the fear of other human beings. Therefore it only makes sense, that he denies connection. Humans have no connection to one another, and no conenction to the world around them, they’re just there. It’s inherently nihilistic statement, because he’s arguing basically there’s no meaning to existence.
Jogo even calls Mahito the embodiment of death because he reflects that idea so well, that everything dies. Even Mahito’s own curse ability is the embodiment of his inability to connect, if he reaches out and touches someone he only harms them with just a single touch of his hand. Hands are pretty basic symbols of human connections.
However, even though Mahito’s nihilistic he’s not indifferent. He outright hates, and torments other humans. He encourages Junpei to hate life, exactly like he does.
2. We Exist
If Mahito is a character that hates life, antagonizes life, then Todo is the complete opposite of that. Todo is someone who represents love and connection. Hence why even down to his curse energy takes the form of little hearts.
Every detail we know about Aoi, centers around this idea of love, and particularly this love of life. The hearts are a repeating motif with him, they even appear on his volume cover. We know he has a crush on an idol named Takada.
The first question he always asks people when he meets them is what kind of girl do they like, (but even if it’s a guy who is only into other guys he finds that answer acceptable as well).
He dismisses Megumi from the moment he meets him, but immediately falls head over heels for Yuji. However, look at the difference between Yuji and Megumi. Megumi is someone who feigns indifference, and pretends not to be invested in the life around him. He’s always repressing his emotions and pretending he’s not interested. Yuji on the other hand, loves life, loves other people, and will react to save people’s lives without even thinking. Megumi is principled, but Yuji is unprincipled and acts on a simple love for the people around him, so therefore it makes sense why he’s more Todo’s type.
The only other person Todo seems to respect on the level of Yuji is Okkotsu Yuta, who also said this. Whose cursed technique was converting the girl he loved into a cursed spirit to remain with him after her death.
If Mahito’s character is built around the hatred humans have for each other, Todo is built around love. Even if it’s kind of in a weird way sometimes. He asks people what kind of girls they love. He respects people who are open about what they love. This isn’t even the first time that Love and curses have been connected thematically to each other in the series.
Love and curses are presented as a complementary pair. That is rather than being binary opposites ,like life and death, fire and whater, they’re like yin and yang. Two ideas that seem like opposites but go together. Love can be like a curse. You can curse someone you love. Etc. etc.
Love and hate, is much like love and cursing, seem like they’re opposite ideas. They’re traditionally held to be opposites. Mahito even comments on this. There’s Junpei who is apathetic. Mahito says the true opposite of love is hate, and saying apathy is the opposite is just japanese wordplay. He then encourages Junpei to hate people, to curse them. Mahito is a cursed spirit, hating people, cursing people is in his nature.
Junpei even said, the hatred that the bullies constantly lobbed against him, the fact that his mother was killed, it all felt like he was being cursed by everyone around him. Cursing people, hating people, are presented as the same thing to Mahito.
Mahito’s philosophy is basically that there’s no particular meaning to existence, therefore it’s okay to hate life.
Both Mahito and Todo have a special insight to how cursed energy flows around him. Todo as weird as he is, seems like the wisest of all the students especially in regards to curse energy.
Todo has a similiar perspective of the world as Todo. He too says that life, that cursed energy flows through the world. However, rather than using that argument for nihilism, he uses it for existentialism. Mahito says we don’t exist that there’s nothing special for existence. Todo says we do exist. Therefore it’s okay to love life.
While Mahito encourages Junpei to hate and spite others, Todo does the opposite of that, telling Todo to repress his hatred for now, because he has to think of the feelings and well being of the people he loves and is trying to protect first.
Todo is someone who fights against the natural order of things, for the sake of the love he feels for other people. He even literally fights Hanami, who is an embodiment of nature.
Hanami, the practice of watching the blooming sakura flowers is also a symbol of transience. Todo fights against this transience, and declares himself the exception. Mahito is natural order, Todo opposes natural order. Therefore in both love and hate, and also in philosophy they are complete opposites. Todo fights for what he loves, and Mahito fights for the sake of hating others.
Even in thie cursed techniques they are opposites. They both use their hands. However, Boogie Woogie is a cursed technique ideally suited for cooperation. When he claps his hands together he switches places with anything. Todo is like, the one sorcerer in the series whose cursed technique is far better for team fights than it is solo fights.
Mahito calls for them to curse each other.
Todo, blows a little kiss when he’s fighting against Mahito, another symbol of love.
(Mahito’s Let’s curse each other, is also a callback to Geto’s let’s curse each other. Geto is someone who after all, hates humans as well, at least the ones who aren’t jujutsu sorcerers).
When Mahito shows Yuji he is all alone by killing two of his allies Nobara and Nanami (Nobara is fine though), Todo shows Yuji that they are still all together because he is carrying the feelings of his allies with him. Something Mahito would insist means nothing. Something Todo says means everything.
Lastly, when Mahito moves to finish off Todo he’s distracted for a moment by Todo’s little locket. The symbol of his love for both Yuji and Takada.
Which buys Todo enough time to clap Mahito’s hand and used his cursed technique even after one of his own hands is completely blown off. Hands are the symbol of connection, Todo connects to others and Mahito doesn’t.
What’s ultimately ironic is the memories Todo has are completely fake. They are made up. Just like Mahito says, there is no meaning to life, any kind of meaning we try to make is just made up. However, even though Todo’s friendship with Yuji is completely imaginary, he obviously values it. His fake friendship with Yuji trumps Mahito who really only values his own individuality, and only thinks about himself.
Mahito says I am the only thing that’s real, therefore it’s only natural I only care about myself.
Todo says, my friendship is Yuji is real, and our feelings will far outlast both of us.
#todo aoi#aoi todo#mahito#yuji itadori#itadori yuji#jujutsu kaisen meta#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen theory#jjk meta#cursed spirit#cursed technique
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Hi! can I have a The Man Who Fell to Earth Headcannon , and your just best friends with him and you teach him about birthdays?
Btw I love your blogs aesthetic!!!
A/N: aaaah sorry for taking so long in answering! this was going to be a short headcanon but i got a bit carried away hehe. Also, thank you sm 🥺 🥺 It took me a while to make it all matching and aesthetic. Anyway, i hope you like it!
BEING THOMAS JEROME BEST FRIEND AND TEACHING HIM ABOUT BIRTHDAYS
You met Thomas while working as a maid in the first hotel he stayed in when he arrived on earth.
The first time you saw him, with his black sunglasses and sharp black suit all you could think of was that he was as lost as a fish out of the sea because how the fuck did someone like him ended up in a hellhole like this?? The hotel didn’t even give you spare soaps! The man looked like he could afford a whole ass hotel floor but well you weren’t one to judge because of appearances.
So, you were the first to go straight to him and help him with his bags (even if he insisted he didn’t need help, you were paid to do that anyway). You tried to break the ice through the whole journey but he would simply stare deadpan so you took it as a “shut-up-im-tired-please”, however, when you stopped talking, he said he liked the random-weird facts you sputter about. So, you got to the conclusion that he was simply dry as fuck.
The first days knowing him was… well, something else. He wouldn’t crack a smile for any of your jokes (and you considered yourself hilarious, welp there goes your dream of being a stand-up comedian) and was always immersed in his world but something about him made you keep coming back to his room and spending at least 5 minutes with him. You felt as if there was just something he was hiding and curiosity always got the best of you so you set your mind to figuring what was it.
It took him a while to open up, but when he came clean about his provenance and why he had come to earth, you swore to yourself you would do anything in your power to help him out. This man -well, alien- was just looking for a way to save his planet. It also warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you that.
“You are the only person I trust here”
“Are you serious? Aww, stop it E.T. you are making me blush!”
”E— Who?”
“Oh boy, you really gonna need some classes in pop culture”
After you knew, this was what was bothering him, things got so much easier in your friendship, now you knew you were actually funny and the problem was him!
He said he knew about your planet and the most relevant things about it because of T.V. FUCKING T.V. So, you made it your personal goal to teach him all you could teach about earth's popular traditions and must-do’s (man had never eaten cotton candy before!!11¿!).
Trying to teach him about the daily, normal things humans do like running errands or going sightseeing for the simple reason of watching a pretty landscape made him so confused, and for you, it was like taking care of a 5-year-old.
He would ask about everything and when I say everything I MEAN IT. That man had no boundaries when it came to satisfying his curiosity; he would pick up everything that appeared interesting or intriguing, no matter where you were which sometimes was a pain in the ass because he really needed to stop grabbing things randomly from stores, you are banned from at least 4 near your house because of a 'steal attempt'.
"What's this?"
"Don't touch it! It's a tampon, where do you even find it? Stop grabbing things from the street!"
Yeah, sometimes it was like watching a kid trying not to get himself killed.
One day you were laying on the couch, teaching him the wonders of Jimi Hendrix when something you hadn't thought before crossed your mind.
"I never asked but when is your birthday?"
"My what?"
"Your birthday, it’s, well- when you celebrate the anniversary of the day you were born, people usually make parties or they treat it as an occasion for being self-indulgent. It’s a big thing here on earth."
"I don't think anyone on my planet has ever done anything remotely like that."
"Really? No birthdays? Well, you are here so we have to do something, with balloons and gifts. You know, compensating the ones you haven’t celebrated."
You decide to not make something too big because you didn’t want to overwhelm him. So, you plan to make a picnic and then spend the day sightseeing. At night you were going to make a small gathering with a couple of your closest friends, you knew a party wasn’t really his scene but you thought presenting him people you really cared about would acclimate him more on earth.
When you asked him when was the day he was born, he answered that the date could not be calculated in the human calendar bc a ‘year’ represented a different amount of time than 365 days; so you stated the day he came to earth as his official birthday.
When the day came you were excited as a child with a lollipop, he just followed you around and marveled at what you showed him.
For the picnic, you made him pancakes which you had realized was one of his favorite earth meals (he literally make it his 24/7 meal after the first time he tried it, he didn’t eat anything else in a week 😭). Then, you went sightseeing the places you noticed he had liked more.
You hadn’t told him about the plans for the night because you had wanted it to be a surprise, so when you told him that it was time to go back home (yes, you were roomies), he didn’t have a clue ab what was going to happen. When you entered your place, the whole living room was decorated with balloons and the whole atmosphere looked v aesthetically pleasant (your friends helped you decorate while you were gone), on the table was the birthday cake you had prepared for him in the morning with frost saying “HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPACEMAN XXXX YEARS” (bc u weren’t sure how old he actually was and by the floor a couple of presents.
He was shocked. He had never celebrated anything like this before, the “holidays” he had on his planet were more formal and not personal and intimate like this. He had a hard time trying to figure his emotions but overall felt so content of having met a human like you.
“What are you waiting for, cut the cake alien boy”
And then you proceeded to smash your part of the cake into his face.
“What? It’s tradition” And then he went and did the same, and for the first time you saw him smile for more than a couple of minutes. (he was so happy and smiley 🥺 🥺)
You spent the whole night between laughs, drinks, and karaoke.
After, the whole trying-to-launch-a-spaceship-full-of-water-to-space and the government locking him up thing, you went to visit him. They wouldn’t let you see him but you eventually did and helped him escape.
Your birthday was close but it was the last thing in your mind, too tired and consumed with worrying about thomas safety, so it was definitely a surprise when you woke up and the breakfast was already done, a big cake (made by himself “I even made the cake look” he had said) with frosting saying “HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N” on top. It brought tears to your eyes and you gave him the biggest hug you could muster.
For the first time in a long while, you spent the day carefree, enjoying the presents and surprises thomas had made for you.
#thomas jerome newton#thomas jerome x reader#thomas jerome newton x reader#david bowie#david bowie x reader#thomas jerome newton fluff#platonic but it can also be read as a romantic i think?#thomas jerome headcanon#thomas jerome x platonic reader#headcanon
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Court of Kings - Chapter 1
Summary: Sent to a neighboring kingdom to secure an alliance, forced to give up your dreams and ambitions, disregarded as a means to an end. You however have no desire to fulfil their wishes. And neither does Oikawa.
Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x female reader
Genre: Fluff, comedy, angst, royalty au, arranged marriage au, enemies to lovers au (more like enemies to allies to friends to lovers), eventual smut?
Word count: 2700+
Warnings: All the characters are adults unless specified. This chapter is sfw. Minors do not interact.
Notes: Part 1 of a long series I’m planning to write. This is my first fic in this blog so I would greatly appreciate comments, follows and feedback!
Read Prologue first <...> Chapter 2
August 5th
The first messengers arrived when you were having afternoon tea with your literature instructor in the gardens of your summer residence, as your brother was practicing his sword skills not too far. A maid sent by your mother brought you the news of their negotiation a few hours later, accompanied by some of the strawberry macarons you loved so much.
If it were up to you, you would refuse such a ridiculous offer even before it was brought to your attention. Now that they had a male heir to the throne however, there was no use of a girl that had no claim to become the future ruler, other than being sent to create diplomatic relations now that you were over twenty summers.
“Where do you think they are from?” your brother asked as he tried to dust off his clothes, quite tired from following the orders of his practice partner all day long.
“I wouldn’t know, I didn’t see any flags with them.” you continued as he looked disappointed “But they were wearing blue, so at least we know it's not from the south.”
He nodded; his eyes wide with worry “I am glad they are not sending you there.”
“No one is sending me anywhere yet Hiro.” you answered quite annoyed, turning your head sharply to glare at the boy.
It was not his fault per see but him being recognized as the heir has left you in an awkward situation for the past twelve years. You loved your brother dearly, unlike the distant relationship you had with your parents. It was not because you had the ambition to rule the kingdom either. Of course, it was unfair as you were the firstborn, and if not for what was between your legs, you would also have been the one to inherit the crown.
Even if that was so, you simply did not find it in yourself to become a leader. You, however, did wish to be able to shape your own future. One that did not involve fulfilling the selfish wishes of others.
“It would be awfully lonely without you.” he sighed, instantly making you feel guilty for sounding a little bit too harsh.
Hiro looked incredibly small for his age, standing there with his shoulders slouched, fingers flicking, a skinny and sickly kid since the day he was born. He took after your father with his dark hair and almost pitch-black eyes, but with your mother's facial features, a contrast to your own looks that bore no resemblance to any of them, another reason for your alienation from the rest of the family.
“And it would be awfully quiet without you.” you teased “Maybe then I would be able to read in peace.”
Several footsteps coming behind you silenced you both before Hiro could retort, cutting the joyful air and replacing it with a heavy feeling.
Your mother was a beautiful woman that much was true, but in a different way to that of her kids. The Queen had extremely sharp features and her painted lips always supported a displeased frown. She acted as her title suggested, prim and proper, she fit her role perfectly.
Renowned for her charm when she was younger, she did not lose much to the ages if not for the wrinkles next to her keen eyes and the white threads on her hair. Likewise, she was as smart as she was alluring. Coming from a family that lost their wealth a long time ago even though they still supported titles, no one would even dream of her being second to the sole ruler of their beloved country. She was a success-driven woman, which made her a threat in the eyes of many in the court, thus she was not given the right to make a decision when it came to the education of the heirs she produced. Although affectionate towards her kids first, she had no say on the time she had with them, causing their family ties to weaken, and mostly spent her time with foreign ambassadors. A responsibility entrusted upon her by her husband.
“I see you received my message.” she declared not looking at you directly “We will talk more about this after our guests leave. For now, I want both of you to go to your rooms and stay there until dinner.”
You could sense the irritation in her voice. It was not for her kids, however, as you could see the dark circles under her eyes, a sign of her losing sleep for the past few days.
“Won’t we meet our guests?” Hiro questioned before you could.
“It is not needed as they are only messengers.” the Queen answered shortly before continuing her walk towards the main hall, her maids trailing behind. “I will see you two in an hour.”
Leaving your brother behind, you decided to head down towards the observatory. You knew that you would get an earful from your maids later for not changing your garments for the dinner, but your head was filled with too many questions and negative possibilities to care about dresses. It was not as if you did not know that this day would come. It even took longer than expected if all things considered. Most in your position would be engaged before they even stopped using diapers. It was a more political alliance than anything else, decided by the respective kingdoms and the advisors.
You even saw the letters that were exchanged since last year with multiple seals supporting different coat of arms. The council of your father must have declined the offers before this. Not for your sake, at least you didn’t think it was, but for not suiting their taste. It was a big deal for the princess of a country, whether being the heir or not, to marry someone as it reassured the ties you would create.
The only positive thing that happened so far was the fact that you would not be sent to the south. The Southern Kingdom was placed across the sea and was an important trade partner to your own.
It was a wealthy country for sure, but also too grim and the people too wild. Other than the traded goods it wasn’t a traveller-friendly country. They kept to themselves and even though the only thing that separated the two port kingdoms was a narrow sea, they had a vastly different culture. These differences resulted in legends and the rumors about the country becoming more and more outrageous over time.
They called their men barbaric, only interested in hunt and the art of war. Their women proclaimed witches, quite beautiful unlike the stereotype, but worshippers of a different God. All just foolish rumors said your history instructor. He was a wise man that travelled a lot when he was younger and according to him these tales were nonsense. Their folk did not originate there but immigrated over a few centuries ago. He taught you that the people of the Southern Kingdom were that of culture and arts. They just did not like intruders. His words didn’t ease your or Hiro’s heart however as you were fed these tales since you were younger.
If you could find a way to escape from this responsibility you would. Yet, since the first time you sensed what was going on you were looking for an answer, just to be disappointed every time.
The dinner was cold and tasteless even though it was made from the best ingredients one could manage to find. “The lady that makes them must hate her occupation with a passion” claimed your brother when you were dismissed “I can’t understand how mother likes it.”
Once again, the King did not join you at the table. It was always the same excuse, politics, responsibilities. But you knew better. You knew why your parents did not share a bed anymore and you could see the looks women of the court gave to your father. It was not because the King was a good-looking man, quite the opposite in fact, but power attracted people.
You were fully grown now and even when you were younger, you knew what these actions indicated. You even had the most unfortunate memory of seeing one of them, who was not much older than you, leaving your father's chamber looking quite flushed. You would have not cared if only the woman did not give you a curtsy while supporting a smirk.
Lady Winna was her real name, daughter of a lord that was close to the King, nicknamed Lady Whore by you. And most of the time, she was the reason your father would skip the meals altogether only to receive a feast in his room later that night. Which was why you knew that you should never hope for a love match. If lucky you could maybe be friends with your future partner.
“She does not hate her job, she hates her life” you replied “Not that it would matter, she will leave soon. I heard she was pregnant with a lord’s child. A married one on top of that.”
Hiro gasped “What if someone were to hear you talking about these rumors” he exclaimed hitting your arm quite forcefully “you could be punished.”
“Don’t act as if you never say such stuff you little bridge troll. I know how you talk behind your instructors.” you mused rubbing the pain off. “And who will punish a princess I ask you? If not for mother or father?”
“Do I need to know what I should punish you for?”
Both you and Hiro jumped at the unexpected voice of the Queen, a gasp leaving your mouths. She was holding a box in her hand and her face was supporting a rare, serene expression.
“Nothing of importance.” replied Hiro quickly “We were just afraid of falling behind our studies.”
The Queen did not seem convinced as her eyes narrowed, but she had a small genuine smile on. “I see. Why don’t you go on ahead and start your nightly studies then? I need to talk to your sister privately in the meantime.”
Hiro let out a snort that he tried to cover with a cough. You are in trouble he mouthed before bowing to your mother and disappearing through the corridor.
“I would like you to know I was just repeating what the ladies in the court were saying. Not that I believe the rumors of course, it is quite indecent.” you tried to explain quickly but the Queen cut you with a shake of her head.
“That is not why I wanted to talk to you dear. It is however quite incident for a lady to talk that way you are right.” she sighed “Why don’t we talk in my study?”
You knew what was coming now, after all you could not remember the last time you had a conversation with your mother alone, the relaxed expression on her face, however, gave you hope. Maybe, you thought, they decided it was not time yet. Or maybe they did not like the offers that came through.
“Close the door, will you?” she asked walking towards the desk that stood before the bookshelves that covered the walls.
“Where are your attendants?” you questioned as you followed her inside “Is there something wrong?”
“I thought you would be more comfortable if it were just the two of us that’s all. I need to show you something.” She answered motioning towards the box she was holding. “It came this morning. For you of course. Go on, open it.”
The box itself was made from heavy oak, painted black with a family crest carved on top of it. The symbol looked familiar enough, but you could not concentrate enough to remember where you knew it from over the heavy beating of your heart. Opening it cautiously you took a sharp breath between your teeth, observing the contents.
Inside stood a tiara that was made from white gems shaped in intricate designs that you have not encountered before and in the middle stood an icy blue diamond so big that you could have sworn it must have cost the yearly earnings of a whole country.
“Not a ring.” You stated matter of factly “A very bold choice for a gift.”
“Indeed. But you cannot expect less from Seijoh.” Your mother replied with a cautious voice, almost as if she was calculating your reaction.
“Seijoh…” the box cluttered on the table as you let go of it abruptly “You are sending me up north? We waged war against them for years! Even before my grandfather! And now you are sending me there?”
You knew the country itself was wealthy enough and that it had a strong military presence. They had many allies within the countries that bordered yours as well. But they also claimed right on your countries throne by sighting territorial dispute as well as a marriage between the two countries that produced no heir.
Now they were sending you there as a scapegoat. To secure his claim to the throne. And maybe even to theirs. An eye for an eye.
It took another week for your father to send a response and invite the Crown Prince and the King of Seijoh for a short visit before the decision was finalized and another two for them to arrive on the outskirts of your kingdom with their entourage behind.
As you sat in your suite biting your nails and waiting for their arrival, your maids were going in and out with different dresses in their hands looking for your approval. You on the other hand did not have the mental energy to entertain their ideas. It was bad enough that you had to attend a ball given in their honor that very evening, but you also had to be in the throne room soon enough to welcome them into the castle. Not to mention this would be the first time that you were to meet your possible future husband.
You heard of him before of course. How could you not when his reputation preceded him? A very cunning and ambitious young man, yet it was his looks that brought the most gossip. You heard his name whispered among the staff when they did not know you were listening and heard the ladies giggle when they mentioned the time that they spent in their court, with him.
It was enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth. Was it too much to ask that your future partner was a man of intelligence and few words? At least you would know that you could get along with him then. But a sharp and striking Casanova? They had to be jesting. That was the only possible explanation for this mockery.
As if your fathers’ ridiculous behaviors wasn’t enough now you had to entertain another man like him. It was pretty common for monarchs to take on other lovers, but you would not be embarrassed by a man you did not know in your own house, husband or not.
When you finally entered the throne room you could hear the commotion outside caused by non-other than the infamous man that was plaguing your thoughts for the past week. Your mother motioned you to hurry and take your place with a sudden turn of her chin just before the doors opened.
The rumors did not do him justice you thought as he strutted towards you and your family, your breath caught in your throat.
Oikawa Tooru was without a doubt the most beautiful man you ever laid eyes on.
He was beautiful alright.
And with his charming eyes staring straight at your own and his delicate hands placed on his sword, he looked ready to murder.
It might look like a filler episode, but I needed to give background and I love to build anticipation. Sorry not sorry? Reblogs are appreciated! And also this was not edited I posted it right after writing it so if you see any mistake let me know.
Disclaimer: No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without permission. I do not own the character of Oikawa Tooru. This is a work of fiction.
TAG LIST: Let me know if you want me to tag you.
@triskoof @sassyglassesbunny @m-a-r-i-a-s-b-l-o-g
#hqhangoutnet#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa x y/n#oikawa toru x reader#oikawa series#oikawa scenarios#oikawa fluff#oikawa angst#oikawa#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu oneshot#oikawa oneshot#haikyuu angst#oikawa toru headcanons#hq smut#hq x reader#sfw#hq x y/n#hq x you#oikawa tooru#oikawa torū#oikawa toru fluff
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