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roosterforme · 2 months

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The Younger Kind Part 53 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is surprised by what Maverick has to tell him, and he's not sure how to convey his mixed feelings to you. The urge to keep everything inside is strong, but you catch on right away and shut it down. In the end, he's not sure he has made the right decision.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

There was something a bit ominous about the way Maverick said, "Rooster. We need to talk."

Bradley followed him toward the tower immediately, getting more annoyed by the second. This was supposed to be an exciting day. You and Bradley had started telling people you were engaged. It was a shame that Casey was among the first to find out, but Bradley had expected Maverick of all people to remember his plans for the weekend.

But Bradley didn't say a word until they were inside the tower in private. "She said yes, by the way," he told his godfather blandly. "I proposed after the air show."

Maverick grinned and pulled him in for a tight hug that Bradley barely returned. "That's wonderful. I was just about to ask, but I knew she would say yes." He slapped him on the back before releasing him. "So it's safe to tell Penny now?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. It's safe. She can't ruin anything at this point."

Then Maverick's smile started to fade, and Bradley remembered exactly why he had followed him here to begin with. "We really do need to talk, Bradley, and I'm not sure you're going to want to hear this right now."

Bradley braced his hand on the wall next to him and asked, "Are you deploying me?"

"Not exactly," he replied as if he was trying to choose his words very carefully.

But Bradley was so used to being spoiled right now, he didn't have the patience for this. He had you and Noah and now a baby and a wedding, too. "Just spit it out, Mav. Please."

He glanced around and cleared his throat, and Bradley's nerves just got worse when he finally spoke. "Your name came up behind closed doors. The admirals have you listed as a top selection for a training mission."

"What kind of training?" Bradley asked, wishing he would just get on with it.

Maverick's voice dropped lower as he said, "Sixth-generation fighters. Nothing that's available in the U.S. You'd be one of the first to fly them for tactical testing."

"You're joking," Bradley rasped, his body frozen as Maverick shook his head.

"It's no joke. It's also optional. Not your traditional deployment. Nobody is going to force you to go this time. I can't supply you with many more details unless you give your verbal and written agreement to participate, but I can say that this would go a long way toward career advancement."

"Shit."

You were pregnant. This was not the best time to leave for optional training. But six-generation technology was something he might never get to experience during his career unless he partook in this. It would be years, maybe even a decade, before Naval aviators were flying these jets off of carriers for real missions. He knew exactly what this meant. He could be among the very first to take them up in the air, and his flight details could help shape the way these jets were eventually distributed to the United States and used by the military. "Jesus, Mav."

He nodded in response. "I know the timing isn't ideal for you and your family, but it's something you should seriously consider. Go home and talk to your fiancée about it, and if you decide you want to be included in the meeting on Thursday, let me know."

"Right," Bradley muttered. "Am I dismissed?"

"Yeah. Head home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bradley should have gone directly home and waited for you and Noah to arrive, but instead he took his time in the locker room. He tried to imagine what it would be like to leave you for a few weeks or months while you were pregnant, but it made him feel too uncomfortable. He could turn the opportunity down without even mentioning it to you. That actually sounded like a pretty good plan.

While he showered and got changed, he felt guilty in a different way. He didn't want to hide this from you even though all he wanted to do was protect you. And part of him really wanted to fly these prototype jets. If he did, he could leave a lasting impression on the future of Naval aviation even after he was done spending time in the cockpit.

"Fuck," he muttered as he packed all of his things up for the day and headed outside to his Bronco. It was actually pretty late now, and there was no doubt you were at home with Noah, probably making dinner. But Bradley took a detour to the coffee shop first, and then he stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, because he wasn't sure if you were still supposed to have caffeine or not.

He ended up ordering the decaf version of your favorite drink. Then he asked the barista to borrow a sharpie, and he wrote something new on the cup this time. He stuffed a few dollars into the tip jar and headed home, still completely undecided about what he wanted to do.

---------------------------

Noah was his usual adorable self, and you wanted to be having a good day, but you were exhausted from work and Casey. Dinner was in the oven, and you were taking the time to carefully cut apples into peanut butter snails for Noah to have as his dessert, but Bradley wasn't even home yet.

You were looking forward to getting changed out of your wrinkled scrubs and taking a long shower, which would be much easier to do if he were here. Everything was easier with him around. You started planning a trip to Disneyland on your phone while dinner cooked, but you wanted to run it past him before you booked anything. You smiled softly, knowing Bradley would tell you to put it on your princess card before thanking you for planning the next family vacation. But you had your first doctor's appointment coming up and thought it was better to go to Disneyland after that. But October was looking promising.

When you heard the front door open, and Skittles scampered into the living room, you felt your body sag against the counter in relief. "Daddy's home," you told Noah, and he pushed his new dinosaur coloring book aside and followed after Skittles. You brought up the rear, but that just meant that you'd get the longest hug from Bradley when it was your turn.

"Come here, Mrs. Bradshaw," he rasped after he set Noah and Skittles down, and you were tucked in his embrace with your nose buried against him immediately. It was obvious that he was tired and hungry, but he didn't rush anything. He just held you like his life depended on it. Soft kisses teased along your forehead and temple as he whispered, "I brought you some coffee."

Then you noticed the cup he had set down on the TV stand, and you rubbed your cheek against his chest as you read it. "That's adorable, Daddy." He had scrawled Princess +1 on the cup this time, and it made your face feel warm. "But I think I need to cut back on my caffeine consumption."

"It's decaf, Princess" he whispered, his lips and mustache brushing the shell of your ear.

The soft moan that left your lips had him chuckling as you said, "The baby and I thank you." Then you ditched his arms in favor of the coffee cup. When the kitchen timer went off, you kept your eyes on Bradley as you walked backwards away from him. "After Noah goes to bed, I want to talk about something important. It rhymes with Tisneyland. I thought we could go next month. After I talk to my doctor, of course."

He winced for a split second, but it would have been impossible to miss. Okay. You thought he made it clear he wanted to go on another family trip. Maybe he changed his mind. "Shit," he whispered, swallowing hard. "We can... we can go. No problem. Whenever you want."

The timer was still buzzing, otherwise you would have pressed the issue. Without another word you turned toward the kitchen and grabbed the oven mitts so you could get dinner on the table. But Bradley was acting strange. He even seemed more subdued with Noah which had you worried.

"What happened at work?" you asked, sliding a plate of dinner in front of him.

He shrugged. "Just a regular day. But I did tell Nat we're engaged." At least he smiled when he said that, and then he reached for you, looking up at you as you stood next to him. "Hey, I can't wait to go to Tisneyland with you."

You couldn't help but laugh, but you said, "We don't have to go in October. We can go next year or never. I just thought it was something you wanted to do."

"Book it," he said, squeezing your hip before dropping his hand. "I'll request a day off as soon as you book it after your appointment. We can take a long weekend."

Something was wrong, and you couldn't place it. But his eyes were clouded with doubt and your stomach soured so much, you could barely eat your own dinner. This didn't feel like the sweet man who agreed to go to daycare drop off with you this morning simply because you didn't want to go alone. When you offered to get Noah ready for bed, he agreed without really paying any attention to your words.

"Come here, Sweet Noah," you whispered after Bradley kissed him goodnight, clearly distracted. You got him into his pajamas and got his teeth brushed, and like usual, he was yawning before his head even hit the pillow. You started to read him the book about farm animals that you picked out a few months ago with Bradley, and even though he was sound asleep by page two, you finished reading it just to have a few extra minutes with him.

Eventually you found Bradley sitting on the couch with Skittles on his lap. When you leaned against the doorway, he held his hand out to coax you forward. "You didn't tell me about your day," he said softly.

"I tried to during dinner, but it's like you weren't even there," you bit back, not moving an inch. "What's wrong? You change your mind about getting married?" you asked, holding up your left hand and spinning the ring loose with your fingers. "Or about the baby?"

Now he was up off the couch in an instant, Skittles looking rather alarmed by his sudden movement. "Hey," Bradley snarled, pulling you against him with his left hand and using his right fingers to push your ring back into place. "Don't say that. It's never going to happen."

"Then what's wrong?" you asked, giving him no room to continue to be vague and weird with you. "Just tell me."

"You gonna keep that ring on?" he asked, and you saw a flash of everything you loved so much about him in his eyes.

You pressed up onto your toes and kissed him. "Yes," you whispered before kissing him again and again. "I'll keep it on. Just tell me what's wrong."

He pulled you toward the couch, and after he sat, you straddled his lap while Skittles curled up on the cushion next to you. "Nothing's wrong," he whispered, his big hands sliding down your hips to your thighs, stroking you through the thin fabric of your pants. He was staring at your name where it was embroidered on your scrub shirt instead of meeting your eyes. "Earlier today, Maverick told me about something... interesting."

"Go on," you whispered, raking your fingers through his soft hair. "I already know something's bothering you, so just say it, Daddy."

He nodded slightly and kissed your forearm before he finally met your gaze. "It sounds like there's a brand new fleet of aircrafts with technology updates that have never been flown by American pilots before. I'm on a short list of aviators who have been invited to train on these jets overseas, most likely in the hopes that the Navy will adopt these planes in the future."

You nibbled on your lip and considered his words. "So, it's kind of like a deployment?" you asked, still dragging your fingers through his hair as you scooted a little closer.

"Sort of," he said softly. "But it's optional. And I'm going to tell Mav I don't want to go. I'll be here, okay? We can go to Disneyland next month."

You studied his handsome face, and while he looked more relaxed now that he told you what Maverick said, you knew that wasn't the end of it. You pieced it together in your mind and leaned the rest of the way to his lips. He accepted your kiss as he rubbed his hands slowly along your thighs. You hummed and let your forehead rest against his.

Your voice was calm as you asked, "But you do want to go, don't you?"

He remained quiet, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you so your body was flush against his and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. You relaxed against the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soothing beating of his heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly and deep, and it made you shiver. "The last thing I want is to be away from you and Noah and the baby. I don't want you under the impression that those thoughts are on my mind, okay? That's not what this is."

"I believe you, Bradley," you whispered against his neck. "But this sounds like a big deal. You made the list? Over so many other people? They chose you to try something brand new?"

His voice was a little more forceful as he said, "I do not want to leave you alone right now. It wouldn't be fair."

You kissed your way up his neck until your lips found his earlobe, and you kissed him there, too. You inhaled the smell of his shampoo as you said, "I love you, and I want to support you as much as you support me. If you want to do this, then I think you should."

There was no denying that you felt safer and more loved when you were with Bradley than you ever had before. But this was his career, and it sounded like he had a chance to be part of something huge.

"You're right, Baby. I do want to go."

You nodded as he held you. "Do you have any other details?"

"No. There's a meeting on Thursday that I can sit in on if I let Mav know I'm interested, but I doubt I'll get a ton of information short of a departure date and maybe a location unless I sign on for this thing."

You kissed his cheek and pulled away so you could look at his face. "Next time, just tell me what's on your mind instead of trying to make an important decision without me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching for your left hand and kissing your palm and the spot where the band of your engagement ring wrapped around your finger. "But next time, don't even pretend like you're taking this thing off."

"I won't."

--------------------------

Somehow Bradley made it all the way to the meeting on Thursday, his curiosity piqued. When he found out where the meeting was being held, he was even more surprised.

"Come to Admiral Simpson's office promptly at one o'clock," Maverick told him, and Bradley silently thanked you for clearing things up with Cyclone the way you had. There was no way his name would have made it onto any list if you didn't send the man a glass of bourbon at Warlock's retirement party.

"I'll be there," he promised. And if he was surprised by the location, he was even more surprised when he showed up to find Cyclone and Maverick waiting for him and him alone.

"Sir?" Bradley asked, standing until he was given permission to sit. He knew better than to ask a single question about the training before he had some information to work with, but his brain was swirling nonstop. You and he stayed up last night making a list of things he needed to know before making a decision. For example, Bradley desperately wanted to fly these sixth-gen fighters, but he wasn't willing to be gone for months on end. Hell, you still hadn't seen your doctor yet. That appointment wasn't happening until Monday.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Cyclone said, pushing a folder toward Bradley as he sat down behind his desk. "We chose you for this training protocol. Only you. If you are unwilling, then we will regroup and try to select someone else. However, time is tight and details are going to be scarce unless you agree to participate. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Sir," he replied, and then Cyclone tapped his fingers on the folder before releasing it to Bradley.

Maverick was standing near the window, and Bradley got the feeling that his godfather was proud of him. He still wasn't sure why he was the only one here, but as he opened the folder and skimmed the pages, many of his immediate questions were answered.

As soon as he saw it, he shook his head. "You want me to fly to Japan on Monday morning? Because if that's a hard set date, then my immediate answer is no."

He closed the folder and started to hand it back to Cyclone who was sharing a look with Maverick. "And if we could push it to Tuesday?" he asked without taking the folder.

"I'm listening," Bradley replied, honestly wondering what he had that the other pilots didn't.

Maverick stepped away from the window. "Bradl- Lieutenant Bradshaw," he corrected right away. Bradley realized it was hard for both of them to separate their professional relationship from the personal one they shared, especially when they did things like take family vacations together. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were chosen for your skill set and the way you prioritize communication. We don't want to have to select someone else, especially when we believe you'd be the best pilot available."

Cyclone cleared his throat and added, "Consider Tuesday morning your new departure time. Do you have an answer?"

Bradley blinked at him a few times, glanced down at the information in the folder, and then looked up again. "You need me to give you an answer right now? Sir?"

He nodded once and folded his hands. "Before you leave my office."

---------------------------

You were too tired to do anything after work except pick Noah up from preschool. Seriously, if Casey even tried to talk to you, it was going to be her funeral. But for once, luck was on your side, because she wasn't even there. You signed Noah out without incident and headed home to talk about this special training mission.

Bradley must have learned his lesson from earlier this week. You couldn't believe he was about to make a decision without you like that, just to try to save you the stress. You could handle it. After your appointment on Monday, you could handle anything that came your way.

When he got home shortly after you did, he told you immediately that he needed to talk to you. He kissed Noah on the top of his head and pulled you to the kitchen doorway, a frantic look on his face as he stroked your cheek with his fingers. "I'm going."

Your heart plummeted. He really did decide without talking to you about the details. You wanted him to go, but you also wanted to talk about the pros and cons with him first. But in the end, you really had no say here at all. "You are? I thought we were going to talk it through."

"We were," he whispered. "That was my intention, Princess. But they made me decide before I could leave Cyclone's office."

You made a concerned face. "Cyclone's office? How did everyone fit in there?"

Bradley shook his head, his cheeks a little ruddy from frustration or embarrassment, you weren't sure which. "They didn't, Princess. It was just me. I was the whole list of people."

"Oh," you gasped. It was hard for you to understand at times that he was at the top of his career, because he was just as devoted to his life at home. With you and Noah. "Where are you going? And when do you leave?"

"Japan," he rasped, his face full of guilt now. "And I leave on Tuesday morning."

The pounding of your heart was making you feel nauseous. "Tuesday?"

He nodded. "They originally wanted me to leave on Monday, and if that was the case, I was ready to turn it down, no further questions asked."

"You were?"

His eyes went wide. "I'm not missing the first appointment for something optional."

You nodded slowly, because that brought up your next question. You sensed he might be missing subsequent appointments. "When will you be back?"

He wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you closer to him. "I have no idea."

Then you started to cry, and you felt like such an idiot. You wanted him to go. You wanted him to have this experience and impact new pilots in the future, but you also thought you'd have a little more time before he left. "Just come back safely," you whispered while he let you cry in his arms.

--------------------------

Bradley noticed right away that you were a little distant. Maybe you needed a day or two to process everything, but in another day or two, he'd be packing and leaving. He thought he was doing what you wanted him to, but you cried yourself to sleep on Thursday. You were obviously exhausted and frankly kind of moody, and now he was kicking himself for agreeing to a training mission that had no disclosed ending date.

"Fuck," he grunted on Saturday afternoon when he took Noah to the park so you could have some time to yourself. Pretty soon, you'd be on single, pregnant parent duty around the clock for probably weeks on end. Bradley's guilt was really prevalent now.

"Daddy?" Noah asked as he was being pushed on the swing.

"Yeah, Bub?"

"Can I have a Halloween costume?"

"Of course," Bradley groaned, cradling his forehead in his hand. Halloween was still six weeks away, but he could already imagine the tears in his son's eyes if he wasn't home in time for trick-or-treating. Hell, he hadn't even explained to Noah that he was going away again yet. "You can pick something out with Mommy," he added, his voice harsh now.

Noah looked back at him over his shoulder and started to slow himself down. When he jumped out of the swing, he ran to Bradley who scooped him up. "Can we go home?" he asked. He wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck like he could tell he needed a hug. "I miss Mommy and Skittles."

Bradley kissed his son's cheek. "You know what? I miss them, too. Let's go home." He buckled Noah in and drove slowly. He should probably start packing tonight, but he was just dying to spend some time alone with you. The last thing he wanted was to return to a quiet house and a quiet fiancée right now. You and he were going to need to have another conversation about this, and he already felt like a jerk for wanting to have everything.

When he pulled into the driveway as the sun was starting to set, you were in the front yard with Skittles on her leash. You were wearing one of your little floral dresses, and Bradley almost ran into your car as he looked at you. God, he was stupid for voluntarily agreeing to leave you. Once he was parked, you opened the back door and started unbuckling Noah and lifting him out like the most devoted mom in the world, and Bradley was about to lose his mind if he couldn't sort this out tonight.

"Hey, Daddy," you said softly as you turned, holding a very sleepy looking Noah against your shoulder. "Should we feed him dinner and get him in bed?"

"I think so," Bradley replied, eyeing you up and down, his gaze catching on your glossy lips. "You look gorgeous. Why are you all dressed up?"

You shrugged like it was nothing. "I just wanted to look cute for you."

His eyebrows shot up in response. "Don't you always?"

A soft smile found your lips as you started to head for the front door with Noah. Bradley followed you inside, and once Noah was eating leftovers, he pulled you into the hallway where he pushed you back against the wall.

"Does this mean we can talk about some things tonight?" he asked, stroking your bottom lip before kissing you softly.

You moaned gently into his mouth as his weight pressed against you. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course. We can talk about anything you want."

"You told me you wanted me to fly this mission," he said, and you nodded before you kissed the tip of his nose.

"I know. And I do. I just needed to process everything. The timeline just threw me off a little bit. And if I'm being honest, it's never not going to be scary when you leave."

"I'm coming back," he promised, knowing full well he only had so much control over that. "I'm coming back to my family as soon as I can."

This time when you nodded, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. "I know, Daddy," you whimpered between filthy kisses, rubbing yourself against him. He rutted you back into the wall, and you moaned his name as he cupped your ass. And that's when he felt it, firm against his fingertips compared to the softness of your body.

"Fuck," he grunted, easing your dress up inch by inch until he was touching the silicone.

"Do you want me to put my crown on to match?" you asked sweetly as he spread you open wider with his hands. "I can be your going away present."

Bradley leaned closer until his lips were pressed to your ear. "I want you in bed with your crown on as soon as Noah's asleep. Then I'm going to fuck the absolutely shit out of you. And then after that, I'm going to make love to you until you're satisfied. And then we're going to talk about everything that's going to happen while I'm in Japan until we're both comfortable with all of it. And then we're going to start planning our wedding."

"Yes," you agreed. "That's exactly how I want to spend our evening."

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Just a few more chapters left. Do you think he made a good decision? Leaving Princess right now? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 10 months

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Writing Advice #?: Don’t write out accents.

The Surface-Level Problem: It’s distracting at best, illegible at worst.

The following passage from Sons and Lovers has never made a whit of sense to me:

“I ham, Walter, my lad,’ ’e says; ‘ta’e which on ’em ter’s a mind.’ An’ so I took one, an’ thanked ’im. I didn’t like ter shake it afore ’is eyes, but ’e says, ‘Tha’d better ma’e sure it’s a good un. An’ so, yer see, I knowed it was.’”

There’s almost certainly a point to that dialogue — plot, character, theme — but I could not figure out what the words were meant to be, and gave up on the book. At a lesser extreme, most of Quincey’s lines from Dracula (“I know I ain’t good enough to regulate the fixin’s of your little shoes”) cause American readers to sputter into laughter, which isn’t ideal for a character who is supposed to be sweet and tragic. Accents-written-out draw attention to mechanical qualities of the text.

Solution #1: Use indicators outside of the quote marks to describe how a character talks. An Atlanta accent can be “drawling” and a London one “clipped”; a Princeton one can sound “stiff” and a Newark one “relaxed.” Do they exaggerate their vowels more (North America) or their consonants more (U.K., north Africa)? Do they sound happy, melodious, frustrated?

The Deeper Problem: It’s ignorant at best, and classist/racist/xenophobic at worst.

You pretty much never see authors writing out their own accents — to the person who has the accent, the words just sound like words. It’s only when the accent is somehow “other” to the author that it gets written out.

And the accents that we consider “other” and “wrong” (even if no one ever uses those words, the decision to deliberately misspell words still conveys it) are pretty much never the ones from wealthy and educated parts of the country. Instead, the accents with misspelled words and awkward inflection are those from other countries, from other social classes, from other ethnicities. If your Maine characters speak normally and your Florida characters have grammatical errors, then you have conveyed what you consider to be correct and normal speech. We know what J.K. Rowling thinks of French-accented English, because it’s dripping off of Fleur Delacour’s every line.

At the bizarre extreme, we see inappropriate application of North U.K. and South U.S.-isms to every uneducated and/or poor character ever to appear in fan fic. When wanting to get across that Steve Rogers is a simple Brooklyn boy, MCU fans have him slip into “mustn’t” and “we is.” When conveying that Robin 2.0 is raised poor in Newark, he uses “ain’t” and “y’all” and “din.” Never mind that Iron Man is from Manhattan, or that Robin 3.0 is raised wealthy in Newark; neither of them ever gets a written-out accent.

Solution #2: A little word choice can go a long way, and a little research can go even further. Listen carefully to the way people talk — on the bus, in a café, on unscripted YouTube — and write down their exact word choice. “We good” literally means the same thing as “no thank you,” but one’s a lot more formal than the other. “Ain’t” is a perfectly good synonym for “am not,” but not everyone will use it.

The Obscure Problem: It’s not even how people talk.

Look at how auto-transcription software messes up speaking styles, and it’s obvious that no one pronounces every spoken sound in every word that comes out of their mouth. Consider how Americans say “you all right?”; 99% of us actually say something like “yait?”, using tone and head tilt to convey meaning. Politicians speak very formally; friends at bars speak very informally.

An example: I’m from Baltimore, Maryland. Unless I’m speaking to an American from Texas, in which case I’m from “Baltmore, Marlind.” Unless I’m speaking to an American from Pennsylvania, in which case I’m from “Balmore, Marlin.” If I’m speaking to a fellow Marylander, I’m of course from “Bamor.” (If I’m speaking to a non-American, I’m of course from “Washington D.C.”) Trying to capture every phoneme of change from moment to moment and setting to setting would be ridiculous; better just to say I inflect more when talking to people from outside my region.

When you write out an accent, you insert yourself, the writer, as an implied listener. You inflict your value judgments and your linguistic ear on the reader, and you take away from the story.

Solution #3: When in doubt, just write the dialogue how you would talk.

#writing #writing advice #accents #fan fiction #classism #language #u.s.-centric af because I've only lived so many places

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legitalicat · 3 months

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Out of Time

Chapter 2 - "Through the Gardens"

AN: Thank you all so much for the love on chapter 1! It truly was unexpected but I'm so grateful. I hope as the story continues, the love for it does as well! This dedication has been removed.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: From her room, through the gardens, to the Dragon Pit, their route was always the same. Aemond and Y/N walked that path so much when they were younger it was a wonderful there wasn't a permanent foot path burnt into the earth. Between two dragons, everything burns with a deep intensity.

TW: mentions of being forcefully drugged/intoxicated, talks of injury, near palpable grief, reader is AFAB, romantic/sexual tension, first person POV, Aemond giving Ser Erryk the biggest crisis of his life for approximately five seconds

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, talks of Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon!Reader, ghost of a thought of Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader.

Word Count: 2.8 k

The Grand Maester and his younger assistant both seemed relieved with what they found. They said my ribs were cracked but were mostly healed at this point. My lip would heal in a few days. There was no evidence of my captors violating me, which caused mother to let out a sigh of relief. I had at one point had a broken wrist but it had been long since healed. The rest of the bruises and any cuts were superficial, the more extreme wounds now being pink scars.

“And her memory?” she asked the men.

“It is highly possible she was kept drunk or under some form of intoxication these last years. If that is the case, she may regain memories but I do not feel comfortable guaranteeing such a thing,” the Grand Maester said to her. I appreciated his honesty as I imagined sitting in his seat, telling the Queen the opposite of what she would want to hear.

When she dismissed them, we sat in front of my fireplace together. There were so many things I wanted to convey, but my brain couldn’t form the words. There was nothing adequate I could say or do to ease her mind, so I just sat with her in silence and watched the flames dance.

The flames seemed redder than normal with a slight shimmer to them. It was something I was certain I had never seen before but the shimmer mesmerized me. In my mind I could see it, having captured the flames in a small vial. There was a glow to the vial as the red shimmery substance flowed along every part of the glass. I imagined it tasting smoky but comfortable and pleasant, leaving me feeling warm as I drift to sleep.

I couldn’t tell you where these thoughts were coming from. All I knew is it felt simultaneously too real to just be my imagination and too ridiculous to be real.

“I think grandsire’s crown suits you,” I commented, smiling over at her. She had been so concerned over her place for years that actually seeing her with the golden crown resting on her head granted me a happiness I had never expected.

She smiled back at me. “It weighs heavily on my head at times,” she told me honestly. “Yet I am grateful it came as it was supposed to.”

Mother didn’t have to explain to me further what she meant. Though I had doubted Aegon’s desire to take the Throne, Otto Hightower was a conniving man. It would’ve been far too easy for him to succeed if Alicent hadn’t put a stop to his plans. I imagine he had planned for Aegon to wear the Conqueror’s Crown, to make people think he was more deserving.

Imagining Aegon adorning the Conqueror’s Crown caused my cheeks to heat up. He was very handsome and always had been. When I was little, I thought Aegon hung the moon and stars, and I followed him around like a lovesick puppy dog. Before I had more of an understanding of what Jace and I were, before Aemond made it clear how he wanted me, I thought Aegon was my future. In fact, he almost was.

I distinctly remember my mother approaching me before she had Joffrey. Jace and I were only seven and were becoming increasingly aware of our place in the world. One of us would be heir once she took the Throne, a decision she allowed us to make. She told me she wanted to suggest a marriage between Aegon and I if I were okay with it, which even at seven I knew would be best for our family. It was a no brainer for me. Even so, it did not come to fruition as Alicent adamantly refused.

“I think I shall go see Vhaela,” I told her, standing slowly. As long as I moved slowly, my ribs did not hurt so much.

“I have assigned Ser Erryk to watch over you, he shall accompany you,” she told me, standing herself.

Just as I was about to protest, I bit my lip and held my tongue when I saw her face. Fear could be seen on her every feature. I wondered if she now felt uneasy as I would be out of her sight for the first time all afternoon. Could she be worried I would disappear again?

“Okay, mama,” I said with a small smile. I hugged her as tightly as I could, wishing I could fix all the holes in her heart my disappearance caused.

After a moment, I pulled away and gave her a small smile before leaving my room. I nodded to Ser Erryk in a greeting as I shut the door behind me.

“Good afternoon, princess,” he said as he smiled. “Where would you like to go?”

I was about to tell him my desired destination when a voice called out to me. I turned to see Aemond quickly approaching which caused my heart to rapidly beat.

He was as perfect as he had always been. His silver hair went to his mid back just as it had for years. He wore a black leather doublet with long sleeves and matching pants with black boots. He wore his eye patch over his left eye, despite how much I had always wished he would allow himself to wander free without it. He looked simple and elegant without being boring.

“Princess,” he said as he slowed to a stop in front of me.

“Prince Aemond,” I said to him, giving him a slight nod of my head. Desperately I tried to steady my heart and slow my mind.

Jace never made me so nervous. I knew him the way one knows their favorite book. Every thought, feeling, or action could be anticipated. With Aemond, I never actually had any idea of what he could possibly be thinking. He kept his feelings and thoughts close to him, not wanting anyone to know him ever.

In fact, it wasn’t until he kissed me the first time that I ever understood his words of marrying me were rooted in feelings for me. I could remember it as clear as though it happened mere hours ago. The way I was sitting in the window of the library, reading the personal journals of Rhaenys Targaryen, when he approached me with a singular red tulip in hand. The way he looked at me as he presented it, telling me it was the only flower worthy of my beauty. What I remembered most was the way his lips felt on mine, the way it made the world go quiet if only for a moment and caused my pulse to somehow quicken yet disappear all at once.

He smiled brightly at me. It was unusual for him to smile but it was a sight that always made my heart try to beat out of my chest. It was something he had always saved only for me. When we were children, when Aegon, Jace, and Luke separated themselves from us because we did not yet have dragons, he gave me sanctuary. He made me feel better than anyone else could.

“Did you find comfort in your bath, byka zaldrīzes?” he asked me, taking my hand in his and pressing it to his lips.

“I did, issa mīsio,” I told him trying to hide my smile.

My protector. It is what I have called him for as long as I could remember. He earned the nickname when I was four and he removed a spider from my room. Luke had alwayss believed that it was something I should’ve reserved only for Jace. Yet he never understood that while Jace would fight for me, Aemond would kill for me.

“Leave us,” he instructed Ser Erryk.

“But the Queen-“ my guard said quickly. He was rather panicked at the idea of leaving me against my mother’s wishes.

“Should understand there is nobody better suited to keep the Princess safe than I am,” Aemond said firmly.

The demanding tone to his voice left no room for further debate. He had always made sure that those around us knew that everyone in the world was insignificant when compared to him in regards to keeping me safe. It didn’t matter if it was his mother, the guards, or even the Gods themselves. He would strike down anyone or anything that dared to threaten me.

I could see that there was an internal debate in his head. Which should he fear more, his Queen or Aemond? Aemond acted more frequently out of anger than Mother did.

“Mother has always trusted that Aemond is a capable swordsman and knows I am safe in his company. If anything is said I will speak to her. Thank you, Ser, for your dedication,” I told him, smiling at him. He nodded quietly and walked away, knowing I would take all responsibility and feeling ease from that.

Aemond offered his arm to me. I linked mine in his without a second thought. The year I spent here before my disappearance, this is how we walked anywhere. Arm in arm, like we were a singular entity. He would escort me everywhere, never once being late and always ready for some form of contact. I would be with him every moment I wasn’t with my grandsire.

Many ladies in the court once asked me how long it would be until we were married. I assured them that there was no possibility in that happening, but they were convinced. They said that not even their own husbands doted on them the way Aemond would dote on me. But they were always so ridiculous sounding I never gave them any mind.

We had always considered ourselves just children in a game. We were better, smarter, more talented than other players. Never did something so trivial as the gossip at courts ever stop us. But now I wonder if maybe we should’ve stopped.

“You look beautiful in that color, Y/N,” he told me as we began walking towards the gardens. This was our route every time. From my chambers, through the gardens, past the training yard, then to the Dragon Pit.

“Why am I the only one you speak to with such affection?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow. I tried to ignore the people we passed by who stopped to stare at me.

“Yet you do not respond with even half as much,” he said to me as he pulled me closer into his side. He seemed to also be aware of everyone staring.

“What is the purpose of this, Aem?” I asked him. “No longer are we children playing a game. We cannot continue as though we are only friends.”

“But we are friends,” he pointed out as we stepped out into the gardens where nobody seemed to exist.

This was one place in the Red Keep I always felt I belonged. Surrounded by flowers of brilliant blues, reds, pinks, and yellows dotting the otherwise green landscape here. The pink peonies were always very beloved by Alicent. The yellow hydrangeas were Mother’s favorite. Helaena always preferred looking for the bugs that inhabited the ground, so much so I had once destroyed the stores of garden soil they used to kill the bugs. They stopped using it when they realized It was me.

“You are in love with me,” I reminded him. Aemond chuckled at my words as he picked a purple hyacinth and put it in my hair beside the flower Mother had stuck there earlier.

“And if I remember correctly, our last night together was spent with you telling me the names of our no less than four children and all of their dragons,” he said with a smirk.

He spoke as though it were the simplest thing in the world. As though he and I were able to marry for love rather than duty. His words ignored the fact I was to marry Jace and become his queen, that my place in this world was to support my twin. It had been decided a long time ago.

“We were fooling ourselves thinking we could ever be together,” I whispered as I stopped walking. Though the knot in my throat that formed as I spoke those words made my voice sound weak and unsure.

“You are fooling yourself if you truly believe that you love Jacaerys enough to toss aside what you and I share.”

I let out a huff of annoyance. He was always so sure that he was right. He spoke so absolutely that almost anyone would believe him.

“And you think I love you enough to toss aside my duty?” I asked him.

There wasn’t enough time for me to process what he did before I was in the position. A look to make sure we were truly alone and then I was pulled into an alcove we had discovered long ago, hidden behind bushes that nobody ever looked twice at. It was small and dark, but always held room for the two of us.

“You scream my name in our nights together. You tell me over and over how you love me as you cum around me. You begged for us to go away, find someone to marry us in Valyrian tradition before you could be forced to marry him,” he whispered in my ear. “You cannot act as though you do not love me enough. Time has changed many things, but I can assure you that our love for one another is not one of them.”

“Aemond,” I whispered cautiously when he ran his fingers over the low neckline of my dress. “That was all before I was betrothed formally.”

“I wish for you to be my wife. Do not expect me to give up on that so easily,” he told me.

My heart was pounding so hard against my chest I was sure he could hear it. Maybe my mother had a point. Time had been so cruel, ripping me away from everyone I knew and loved. Maybe I should allow myself some time to play the game the way I wish to.

And Aemond was electrifying in all of the right ways. He was irresistibly handsome, almost intoxicatingly so. There was something about him that assured every bone in my body that no harm would come to me as long as I was with him.

Further than that, I loved him. Put aside the promise of safety that he had always provided and I still loved him. I had known it when he would stay with me all night as I prayed to every god in the world that my egg would finally hatch. I had known it when he pulled me out of bed to come with him the night he claimed Vhagar because I was the only one he wanted to share the moment with. When he lost his eye during the resulting fight with my brothers and cousins, I had cried for the rest of the night because I had failed to protect him the way he always protected me. And when grandsire sent for me to join him at the Red Keep, I jumped at the opportunity simply because I would be with Aemond. I loved Aemond with my entire being.

“I am still betrothed to Jace. Your desire to marry me does not change that,” I whispered even though it broke my heart.

“You can! You think I don’t remember that your mother has always given you a choice? That you got to choose whether she named you heir or Jacaerys? You have a choice, more than anyone else ever has,” he all but shouted.

There was not a doubt in my mind that he would back off if I told him I did not want him. If I made it clear that my reasons for denying him were more about how I felt rather than about duty, he wouldn’t question it for a second. My wants and desires were placed above his in regards to us. It was one of the many ways I was certain he loved me.

While I couldn’t lie to him that I did not want him, I also couldn’t decide anything without speaking to Jace. He deserved that.

“I will speak to Jace. Only after will I decide anything,” I said.

Only after several moments of silence did my words have any sway in him. It seemed that promise was enough for him as he pressed a small kiss to my forehead before exiting the alcove, gesturing me to follow. And while it may have been a better idea to leave his company, there wasn’t anything I could do to avoid taking his arm in mine and walking with him.

#dividers by benkeibear #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #out of time

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stagefoureddiediaz · 9 months

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RWRB costume/ colour meta!

Ok, lets do this!!

Man have I missed writing costume/colour meta, so its good to have something to write about again! This took me far far longer than it should have - I kept getting distracted by the film while I was working on this - I'd go looking for a clip or to grab a still and end up just watching the film again 😂😂😂 but I've finished it and I hope you all enjoy it! Grab a beverage of your choice because this thing is a beast coming in at over 7000 words - I totally understand if you want to skip, but I have ADHD and do not know how to be concise 😂😂😂

Red white and royal blue employs several fun and interesting costume and colour theories (also made use of in the set design) to help tell the story of Alex and Henry. I’m not going to write a detailed meta for each costume - I just don’t have the time - but I am going to look at some costume/ colour details in focus, especially for Henry and Alex as well as highlighting other interesting choices! I also do not have the picture limit (I need more than 30!!!) to include every image I would like to, so if you want to see what I'm talking about, you might have to go check out the relevant scenes (I'll try to give you timestamps where I can!) I’ve kind of tried to do things chronologically, but I’ve left Alex and Henry to the end so if I don’t talk about them very much in the rest of this meta - that is why! putting it under a cut because its so long!

The royal Wedding

There are a couple of key themes here, the wedding party (consisting Lady Martha, Bea and Henry) have a distinct colour palette - dusty blue, dusty pink and Ivory, with the exception of Prince Phillip who is in his red Dress uniform - they’ve used a red uniform to make him stand out, convey that he is more important than the bride (what with his being in line for the throne and all that jazz) and hint at power - red is a power colour.

I’m not sure what royal orders the collar and riband that Henry is wearing are supposed to represent as they don’t belong to a specific British order - if I had to take a punt I’d say his red collar is meant to be a AU version of a Knight Grand Cross of the order of the bath but the one he’s wearing certainly isn’t a real order in the UK (it isn’t meant to be an order of the garter as that is the highest ranking order and Henry would then also be wearing the light blue riband we see on Prince Phillip) the royal blue riband with the red edging is more i line with the night grand cross of the order of Victoria, although in real life that riband should be for in the opposite direction. My feeling is that they wanted a red collar on Henry to play into the red as a symbol of power theme they’ve used on Prince Phillip, placing Henry as having the ‘power’ in his conversation with Alex (as he is on home turf) and the royal blue sash is a deliberate choice that I will talk about later when I focus in on Henry and I think its actually pretty significant as a choice. essentially the order insignia he is wearing are not real orders which is totally fine as this is essentially and au royal family!

We do have to talk about that wedding gown - not royal in the slightest - spaghetti straps and a low back would never be allowed for a royal bride, the dress is also too long on her (but that’s a different conversation about budgets and rental gowns so we’ll let it slide here!!) and her hair should also be fully up - not in the half up do she has going on! The colour is also wrong - she would have been tied to a very limited colour palette of white or ivory - no colour in a royal wedding gown, so the blush colour we see is a no go! I totally get why they did what they did with her gown in terms of colour and I’m fine with that choice (i’ll explain more in the next paragraph), I even get the fairytale princess look they were going for with that dress - but when you’re trying to portray a family so stuck in tradition and history etc, I can’t help but feel that they missed a trick to show her as buttoned up, conforming to the crown etc, especially as we never see her again!

At the reception we see pretty much everyone in colour of some description, with the exception on Alex and Nora who are both in black - this is why Lady Martha’s wedding dress is a pale blush pink colour rather than white. The only reason that the men aren’t in colour (if they’re not in dress uniform) is because they are wearing white tie for the formality of a royal wedding, otherwise I think we would’ve seen coloured ties or some such on them. This is intentional because the room has a general (muted) wash of colour which serves to highlight Alex and Nora, making them stand out and look like they don’t really belong.

Its a way of creating a them and us vibe and helps to establish the rivalry between Alex and Henry - we have a British scene, full of colourful clothing and the only identified foreigners are in black and white. We actually only see a black and white colour palette for the clothing of the Americans until Alex returns from his PR fix it trip to London after cakegate, while nearly all the Brits all were colour of some description - we can see this clearly in the hospital - all the children in colour, Henry in blues and - Henrys security in coloured ties while Amy is there totally in black.

Alex himself does wear navy blue but its a dark navy and that jacket is actually two tone - black and navy and its paired with black trousers in this scene - we see it again later - paired with taupe trousers which really helps to establish this idea of colour entering Alex's world once Henry is in it.

Sets

I’m going to pause on clothing here to quickly talk about the sets in the film and their colour palettes because they fall into three distinct categories;

We have the sage dusty greens, gold and bright reds of the British spaces - they have a regency and victorian air to them, all very traditional, opulent and royal in feel - they are the definition of a gilded cage and are ostentatious and Henry’s bedroom even fits into this mould (its very telling that we only see very limited physical intimacy between the two of them in this space - because its a space that neither of them truly fit or belong in) with its sagely green walls that echo the green walls of the state room the big royal family showdown occurs in.

Then we have the creams, taupes and beiges (with a bit of minty green for the walls of oval office) of the America spaces combined with the very intentional colour choice of that rusty orange (there is also the red room but that is a whole other conversation - I’ll go into it later).

The Rusty orange is such a colour choice, its rich and eye-catching. All colours have meanings associated with them - these can vary wildly depending on where and how they are used and have both positive and negative connotations.

Generally speaking, orange is an attention grabber - its energetic and stimulating, but it also conveys transformation and endurance. This orange has brown undertones which means we should also reference brown colour meanings when thinking about what the colour means on screen - brown is a safe colour and it is also strong and reliable, but it can also portray a sense of loneliness - that is something I think is a really interesting concept - we see Henry in Alex’s world (through the text chats as well as in the first blowjob scene) on the rusty orange sofas and one of the underlying major parts of who Henry is, he is enduring like the orange (and his royal status make him an attention grabber without needing to try) but there is that underlying sense of loneliness - yes he might’ve had a crush on Alex since the climate conference, but as soon as the air had been cleared between them during the PR trip Henry reached out and pursued Alex because he was lonely and wanted a friend - not knowing if it could ever be more than a friendship.

Then, finally we have the spaces Henry and Alex occupy - spaces which are just theirs to occupy - spaces when they are themselves - these are predominately yellow and blue spaces, with some deep colours such as the teal we see on the walls of Alex’s room and the red room.

I’ll go into more detail about all the yellow and blue in this film a bit later on in this meta, but to provide a comment on the red room - red is a colour of passion and love, but this shade of red they’ve chosen maintains that orange undertone we see in the rest of the American spaces.

I wrote a post on the choice of red calla lilies and how they are both a symbol of love and commitment, as well as a phallic symbol of sexuality, and I know Alexander Hamilton was on the wall in the book, but he is there not only because he was very likely bi, but also because he was the subject of what is known as the first political sex scandal - something our boys are essentially also themselves going to end up becoming!

Once Alex does return stateside we start to see colour begin to fill his world. This is a really interesting thematic choice - think how the wizard of Oz (a film very much associated with gay culture - ‘a friend of Dorothy’ was a slang code used by gay men to identify one another and there is obviously the rainbow connotation) begins in black and white and then transitions to colour as soon as Dorothy wakes up in Oz. This film is playing on that same trope/ concept - this is a story essentially told from Alex’s perspective, so Henry and his world is already in colour - its only when Alex enters that world and becomes entwined with it that colour starts to seep into his life - its done in a much more subtle way, but it is there - even during the text bantering they have going one while he is watching a film with Nora - it is a black and white film (‘Some Like it Hot’ - its self a film that helped open conversations about queer identity and the queer community at a time when the Hays code was still in operation and when Sodomy laws still existed in the US, but that is a whole other conversation and lots has been written about it before, its one of my favourite films and if you want to know more then head to your search engine of choice or hit up my inbox! It’s also a film our director Matthew Lopez adapted for the stage which is possibly partly why it was chosen for this scene- as a nod to his other work!)and they are both wearing grey while Henry is in colour (cream and blue - playing into the queer coded yellow blue theming) and sits on the bright orange sofa.

I cannot tell you how much I am in love with the Koi carp on Alex’s dressing room wall because the symbolism - the symbolism!!!!! Koi are seen as a symbol of strength, patience, perseverance, love and bravery they symbolise success through courage. Koi are known to swim against the current and overcome great obstacles - there is a Japanese proverb ‘Koi no Takinobori’ which translates as 'koi swim up waterfalls' and as the word Koi in Japanese also translates to mean love the proverb therefore means that love can go against the current and overcome great obstacles and if that isn’t the perfect metaphor for Alex and Henry’s relationship then I don’t know what is!!

I am obsessed and I adore the set designer for including that wallpaper in general, but especially in their text banter flirty developing relationship - the writing is essentially on the wall for where their relationship is going and how its going to unfold - they are literally Koi swimming agains the current and overcoming great obstacles to be together!!

Back to the costuming!

As I said previously - when Alex returns from the PR trip we start to see increasing amounts of colour and it starts with blue - Oscar is wearing a blue shirt - a colour we only see him in for that scene and then again at the end of the film - during election night. Its an important choice - Henry's colour is blue - its the colour we nearly always see him in some form of blue so for this to essentially be the first colour that appears in the clothing in Alex's world is telling in its own way - it is the beginning of the slow saturation of Henry in the world of Alex. Oscar is always in tan colour-ways apart from those two scenes and generally speaking we see him wearing Mexican tribal and geometric prints/patterns and cowboy boots - playing into his Mexican heritage, but also establishing him as Texan.

Miguel is clearly set out as the baddie to us all - head to toe in black all the time expect at the PM dinner - when he has to wear a white shirt because its etiquette - but they do make sure to give him black buttons on that shirt - which separates him from everyone else in dinner dress very clearly and keeps the undertone of untrustworthiness going.

The other thing to note is the grey fuzzy jacket he wears when being interviewed on the news. I’ve spoken before in my 911 meta’s about how the use of the grey fuzzy patterning is symbolic of confusion or obfuscation and that holds true here - Miguel is called out as being the one who hacked and leaked the emails by the presenter and he tries to bluff his way out - to obfuscate the truth.

We see the idea of green and jealousy play out a couple of times in the film - the flirty girl that tries to commandeer Alex and kisses him at the NYE party is wearing a very blatantly iridescent green dress which sets her apart from the rest of the crowd and then when the crowd drops low we also get the green lights on the DJ desk - while the scene is a play on the I saw you across a crowded room idea, there is also that undercurrent of jealousy - Henry is Jealous of Alex’s ease and that he cannot have him loudly and in the way he wants - highlighting that jealousy helps to build into Henrys later actions when he throws caution to the wind and kisses him under the tree.

Ellen Claremont has a narrow colour palette as well - we only see her in black in that first scene and in the ‘new Texas strategy’ arguement with Alex, after that her dominant colour is cream and we also see plenty of red which is a power choice - she wears it in scenes when she needs to convey power and status such as at the PM dinner or when she is shutting down his Texas strategy. The cream is the base colour for her - its a colour of elegance, sophistication, it is also a neutral colour - playing into her position as POTUS, but also when she wears it in one on one scenes with Alex, it is a sign of her being a mother rather than the POTUS.

Zahra tends to wear blacks with one blue/grey cashmere jumper and when we do get colour on her they are jewel tones - purple and teal. We also get some more grey fuzzy patterning - again playing into my previous statements - here it is very much about confusion rather than obfuscation - she only wears the fuzzy grey when she finds out about Alex and Henry and has her mind blown by the knowledge. Its a perfect costuming choice for this scene as it conveys so much about where her brain is - that her mind has been blown by this huge thing she as just become privy to and it helps make her facial expressions even louder!

Nora wears a full spectrum of colours, the stand ones are obviously the red bodice and trousers she wears for new years and the pink shirt she wears in the office when Alex is having a mini bi panic and figuring himself and his attraction to Henry out. Generally speaking a characters costumes are meant to be about them and their own character, however with a film like this, everything is a driving point for the two main characters and so, other characters costumes will, at key points be less about the character wearing them and more about driving the story of the mains forward - this is very much the case with Nora’s red outfit (and we have already talked about the green of the flirty girl at new years representing jealousy).The red is very very red, it is meant to stand out and is a nod to romance - for both herself with Pez and for Alex and Henry, but Red is also a colour associated with passion and sexuality as well as fire and heat - essentially it is a marker that things are about to kick into action on the romance scale - we are heading from friends to lovers.

The pink shirt plays into the same theme - its a continuation, but a cooling down - less about the heat and passion of a sexual encounter, and more about the concept of romance and relationships - because that is what the conversation is ultimately about in this scene. We have the bi flag background helping to visually tell us what the conversation is about, but we also need to have that subtle reminder that this is not about fire and passion it is about the potential for romance - for love - because if Alex is going to hook up with Henry, it isn’t going to be a hook up, it going to be real. We do of course see things heat back up in the red room (as they should), but ultimately that is the last of the fiery heat we see - from then on anything connected with Alex and Henrys relationship is much more steadfast - the blues and yellows I will talk about in a minute!

Lets talk signet rings!! We see them worn on the male members of the royal family - so King James, Phillip and Henry - as well as Alex when Henry gives him his ring. their use is telling and significant. James and Phillip both wear their signet ring on the little finger of the right hand, while Henry (and Alex) wears his on the little finger of the left hand. in a general sense one would usually wear a signet ring on the little ringer of the non dominant hand - so if you’re a lefty you wear it on the right hand and vice versa if your right handed. This is not what is being portrayed here - all three of them are naturally right handed (yes I did spend far too much time on google to find this out!!) which would in theory mean all of them should have their rings on the left little finger and yet only Henry does.

There is however another explanation - a ring worn on the right hand is symbolic of tradition conformity and rigidity and royalty (traditionally the monarch would wear a ring on the right hand and this was offered to subjects to kiss), wearing it on the dominant hand as a sign of power/ dominance. Henry and then Alex wear Henry’s ring on the left hand - the traditional hand that wedding bands are worn - because of the concept of the main artery running from the heart down the left arm and into the left hand, it is a symbol of love and life and connection to another person and is where the concept of the red string of fate comes from (which ties in nicely with Alex referring to the rope in his chest pulling him towards Henry). This all gains greater significance when Henry gives his ring to Alex and that he choses to also wear it on the left hand, its essentially a symbol of engagement and eternity - it is a sort of pre engagement I guess - and is a low key statement from Henry he is giving Henry Fox to someone for eternity - to Alex.

Right, shall we talk about the yellow and blue theming that I keep mentioning. This specific theming, tends to be seen more in sets and lighting than costumes - although we do see it used in costuming too (looking at you Bea!!). For those not aware, there is a tendency to use yellow and blue colour-ways for queer story arcs - if you look at Heartstopper (esp s1) they have been using it to great effect , and it can be seen in other shows and films with queer character arcs to such as 911 (and Lonestar), as well as plenty of other mainstream media if you’re looking for it. I don’t know when or how it became a colour way associated with queer relationships - especially mlm relationships - I’ve not had the time to deep dive into that particular research spiral - but suffice to say we see it put to very very great effect here in Red White and Royal Blue - we only ever see it used as a colour way when it is regarding Alex and Henry and their romantic relationshipI’ve included some of the blue and yellow we see (couldn’t fit it all in - 30 pictures is apparently not enough!!!) surrounding Alex and Henry and there is plenty of it. The first time we see this yellow/blue theming come into play is at the turning point - when Henry opens up the lines of communication with his text message. Alex is in his room - the first time we’re seeing into his room - a room painted dark blue and full of yellow accents - the lamp on his desk and the unit to the side of the sofa, as well as the very yellow and blue painting we see above his bed (which was commissioned for the film and so the colour choice was very much deliberate). Just to show how prolific the yellow/blue colour way is here is a list of most of the occurrences - I've tried to include as many of them in the pictures as I can as well.

The copy of People is yellow and blue, the Jacket Alex wears for new year has gold and blue embroidery. The PM’s dinner has blue lighting with gold curtains and there are a lot of blue and yellow dresses being worn in the crowd when Alex is watching Henry. The cushion on the sofa behind Alex is yellow and blue. Then we get to the French hotel room and the Eiffel Tower - it is literally all yellow and blue - everything - even down to the blue (extra safe) condom packets. the New York hotel room is dark blue and gold another is a blue bottle of lube on the side (the condoms and lube are very much a deliberate colour choice - there are a million different colours you can buy both in so if the colour wasn’t important they could’ve chosen any, esp as fuchsia and red is the most common colour for both in the durex brand in the UK).

In England - Henry mostly occupies green spaces - in keeping with the royal theme I wrote about earlier - however the room he is most himself and most comfortable in is the music room/ library which is yellow and any time we see him in that space, he is wearing blue. It is telling that when the emails between Henry and Alex are hacked, his sanctuary is full of ‘old white men in suits’ and Henry cannot go in there - symbolic that who he is - his true self - has been violated and he is being forced into ‘royal coded’ spaces - back into his box as it were!

Back to costumes and he two blue hoodies. I’m gonna get a bit of hate for this, but the blue hoodie is actually two different hoodies! - they are slightly different shades of pale blue - Alex’s is much more dusty blue, while Henry’s is much more baby blue, they are also different cuts - Alex’s a traditional sleeve cut while Henry’s has a raglan sleeve cut (think baseball tee). There is the idea with these two hoodies that they are at different points in their journeys, but still connected and i love that we see them in them at really key points of crisis - they are a comfort blanket in a way - Alex wears his during is bi crisis and again when he's watching Miguel on the news and figures out who the hack was, while Henry wears his when he lets Alex in - when he opens up and unspokenly confesses his love for Alex, when he agreed to take the step and be brave - both are wearing these hoodies in moments when they need/want comfort the fact that they are wearing such similar hoodies speaks to the fact that in it is the other they want that comfort from (even if Alex doesn't actually realise it during his min bi crisis).

And now to our two mains - lets start with Henry.

Henry

The bulk of Henry’s wardrobe is double breasted suits - a key theme for the members of the royal family - not one else where’s them - its a fun costuming choice, cease generally speaking the double breasted suit isn’t in fashion at the moment - the film fit single breasted suits we see on the rest of the characters is. It's a very clear choice to create a them and us concept in a visual and telling way. the other thing to note about these db suits is that only Henry wears plain fabric - the ones we see on Phillip and James are pinstripe or woven stripe. I want to quickly mention the tie King James is wearing because of its very obvious pattern. it is the only loudly patterned tie in the entire film - all others are either, plain , striped or spotted. In the book Henry says that patterned ties are considered too political (i'm paraphrasing and can't find the actual quote!!) and here we have a king playing with politics wearing a patterned tie - I love tiny nods like this to the original source material that only those of us who love the book will pick up on - its just a tie to the ga!

Henry himself wears pinstripes - when he is at his most royal - so for example when he is taking part in the PR exercise post cakegate. His ties also fit into this theming - he almost exclusively wears striped ties excepting at a couple of key moments - when he’s undertaking skulduggery and the yellow one he wears for the election. at all other times he has stripes on his tie. the stripes get wider or skinnier depending on the situation - the wide ones tend to be for royal events while the skinnier stripes tend to be connected to Alex.

Another thing to note with Henry is the lack of black he wears - the only time is at the most royal of occasions - the wedding - all the rest of his suits are varying shades of blue or grey (and cream) even the tux he wears to the PM dinner is a dark navy with black lapel rather than black - it differentiates him from everyone else in the room (esp Miguel) and shows him as the object of Alex’s gaze. I also want to mention the royal blue theme we see on him - something I love Keith Madden for doing - Henry nearly always has something blue on him and a lot of the time (especially connected to times when he is doing something connected to his status as a royal) we see him wearing something royal blue - its why his riband at the wedding is royal blue rather than the lighter blue of the order of the garter - but we also see it in the royal blue socks we see him in several times, the royal blue pyjamas when the hack/leak comes to light and the blue shorts in Texas when he’s lying on the bed before he leaves to return to England. We also see him in a lot of blue shirts keeping that blue theme connected to him.

Then there is my most beloved check theory - (its a theory connected to 911 for those who don’t know my costume metas already) Check is connected to foreshadowing of trouble - Henry wears a check/plaid pattern at a couple of very very key moments - at the bar in Texas - when we see Alex realise his love is the forever kind, when he is back in England having broken his own heart in a misguided attempt to save Alex (gingham shirts in pink and blue) and then the suit he wears when he choses himself over the crown and steps out onto the balcony with Alex to greet the crowds has a subtle check pattern (not sure if you can see it its the pictures but if you watch the scene you should be able to) all of these are moments which foreshadow the upcoming or current trouble in his life.

Yellow roses - symbol of Texas being flipped - from Mexican to independent (and eventually becoming part of US) - symbol of the fact Texas is about to flip blue from red. Yellow roses are also a symbol of good luck more generally and the yellow tie is a great choice to suggest neutrality in the election scenes (at this point in time Henry still has royal status). We see Henry in a grey suit with this yellow tie - this only further highlights his escape from royal life - when he is un the US we do not see him wearing the navy blue suits we see him in in England - the only exception is the dark navy dinner jacket he wears to the PM dinner . In the US he wears either a grey suit or the cream/light blue suit we see him in when he visits the lake house and the light blue linen jacket we see him on his light back to the UK is the only single breasted jacket we ever see him in - I would have loved to have seen the grey suit at the end also have been single breasted, but I'm guessing budget constraints prevented that from happening, as it really would've highlighted the difference between Henry George Edward James Hanover-Stuart Fox and Henry Fox!

At the lake house we get a piece of costuming that I love - the slightly differing short lengths we see on Henry and Alex - it Alex’s shorts are always shorter than Henry’s - it maintains that sense of Henry be more closeted and buttoned up - the overhead shot of them on the pontoon shows it really clearly - the two of them have similar leg lengths which serves me well here to show this point - the shorts Henry is wearing are at least 3 inches longer (possibly more) than Alex's - it isn't just that one pair of shorts - all 3 pairs of Henry's shorts are longer - its a costuming choice thats s perfectly in keeping with their respective characters.

The final thing to talk bout is Henry’s rainbow turtle swim shorts - a cute nod to his being gay - especially as Alex is is his purple bi swim shorts. But there is also the fact that they are turtles. Turtles are a symbol of steadfastness, longevity, perseverance and transformation. they can also be seen as a symbol of everlasting love. there is also the concept of carrying the weight of the world - which is seen in its most explicit way in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels - where a giant turtle carries the world on its back. All of these metaphors and symbols perfectly fit Henry and his relationship with Alex - it is a symbol of the enduring nature of their love for each other, the perseverance we will see for them to overcome the obstacles thrown at them, the steadfastness of their love, as well the transformation we are seeing Henry go through - from closeted gay thinking he has to conform to the very rigid and dated ideals of his family - to the freer Henry we see in the US - the real Henry and the version of himself he so desperately wants to be but thinks he can’t - he has the weight of the world on his shoulders at that moment a la the disc world turtle.

Alex

Alex, obviously has the largest number of costumes, as well as the largest colour palette, but even that is pretty limited. In the same way we see Henry’s wardrobe go through a subtle transformation, we also see the same for Alex, almost in the opposite direction - while Henry’s wardrobe becomes freer, Alex’s becomes more grown up - more mature and conveys his growth as a person - becoming more certain in who he is. I’ve already written a fair amount throughs this meta about Alex’s costumes, so this section is a little shorter than Henry’s for that reason!

We get rebellious Alex to begin with - the leather jacket easily conveys this to us, its almost a universal symbol or rebellion in costuming speak at this point and one of the reasons I like its use here is that it very quickly sets him apart from everyone else in the film - yes its early on, but he is the most casually dressed character by a long way - and this jacket it the antithesis of the buttoned up penguin suit from the wedding - it emphasises how uncomfortable Alex was in that environment and as a result gives the heavy drinking we saw before the cake went flying purpose and visually sets him up as the lead and as a rule/ convention breaker. The same is true of the greyscale with leopard print Hawaiian shirt which is meant to contrast him dramatically with Henry, who is still stuck in that stuffy double breasted suit prison of convention and expectation to behave a certain way - the costuming does a big chunk of the work in giving us rebel v prince in those opening scenes. I actually like that they brought the leather jacket back for the drive to the lake house - it sets up Alex’s falling in love arc nicely - in that it allows the idea of rebellion to continue flowing through the story - Alex wanting to be outing proud in Austin and not grasping that that isn’t an option Henry at this moment in time and is a nod to his not really understanding the different places he and Henry are in when it comes to what being out means for them respectively.

I’ve already written about the black and white colour way we see him in until his PR stint when we start see colour appearing in his wardrobe. I’ve put the pictures roughly in chronological order because it helps to show his progression, but it also shows the increasing amount of blue in his wardrobe, especially in moments connected with Henry.

To pick out some of my favourites - the Mexican pattern shirt with the red cardigan is wonderful - we have the shirt hinting at Alex’s heritage - in blue with the chunky knit red cardigan - I’ve written above about the use offered as a colour of passion and how that passion ebbs and flows - this cardigan also plays into that idea - it is the first time their texting becomes flirty - even the text message is in a red bubble on screen. This idea carries on with the orange red tee he is wearing during the turkey conversation - I made a post about that outfit being the same colour way as the turkey in question and how to talk turkey means to talk honestly and openly with someone - the very thing we see in that scene.

I adore the subtle yellow and blue jacquard embroidered New years jacket - the moment our boys connect and we move further into the lovers part of the enemies-friends-lovers trope and it keeps the yellow/blue theming an active part of the storyline. - the contrast with Henry’s orange tie is a choice - while there is a lot of colour at the NYE party Alex blends into the background while Henry is quite literally tied into the orange theme we’ve already seen in the furniture and sets - orange stands out and now we the audience are being drawn into unconsciously making the same connection that Alex is making - Henry is lonely, but he is an enduring and attention grabbing part of Alex’s life - it only further reenforces the direction of Alex’s gaze - green wearing flirty girl who??

We have a fair amount of Alex and the bi colour ways and we subtly see it coming into play from more or less the moment they start messaging - the light purple tee and purple message boxes, flowing through to the women sufferage wall and the fact he is wearing blue and purple in that scene with Nora in pink to round out the there colours. then we have the blue and purple colour ways he wears at the lake house - bolder and brighter - contrasting with the more muted shades from before - showing that he has recognised and accepted that part of who he is - he’ now out and proud and his parent know about him. I’ve used the old subtle a lot, but this is yet another example of transformation and growth for a character done subtly through colour. We also see him bathed in bi lighting at the bar when he has his 'OH I feel forever about him' moment at the Texas bar - he is the only one in that whole scene lit in that way - Henry is blue lit, while there is a more general lighting scheme that is blue/red dominant for the bar as a whole.

On to Alex’s suits and ties - he seems to have 5 suits and a jacket (not including the formal wear - tux and tails) a black one, 2 navy blue ones (one with a woven pinstripe that he wears in Paris) a bright bluish grey one and a grey one along with the black and blue waffle jacket we see him wear both on the PR trip and at the Polo match. I am obsessed with the fact that when he is in England he wears the navy suits and jackets whereas in the US he wears the other colour s suits - in the same way we see Henry less buttoned up and wearing grey and lighter blues in the US, here we see Alex fitting into Henry’s world and the navy blue suit uniform of the Royal family - its a wonderful piece of costuming that tells so much of how each of them are fitting into the others worlds, especially wen the black and navy waffle one is only worn early on - it is the cross over garment!

The ties have a similar story to tell - we see him wearing 4 ties - a yellow one we see in the beginning in the news reel and never see him in again and then we get the lighter blue striped one at the polo match - the one most similar to the striped ones we see Henry wear - suggesting he is trying to fit into this new world - Henry’s world - that he’s been invited into - its somewhat jarring for his character and plays on the idea of trying too hard - its therefore telling we don’t see it happen again - we only see hi in a striped tie again at he end during election night and accompanied by the black suit we saw him in a couple of times on the campaign trail in Texas. the blue tie is the only other tie we see him wear and it nicely connects all the key moments he has while in his suit - key political moments - his speech at the DNC followed by his speech to the press after the email hack and when he is at Buckingham Palace facing up to the King.

The final ting to talk about is the khaki green shirt jacket - I cannot tell you how happy I was with this costuming choice (and not because it was screaming Eddie Diaz from 911 vibes) khaki is so associated with military - with the army - anti is the most perfect choice for this scene - army are about war - they go somewhere to fight - to storm the palace etc so to have Alex - who has never worn anything remotely like this before rock up to KP to fight for his relationship - for his love - is the perfect choice, its a subtle yet clever way of emphasising the Alex has chosen to fight for what he wants - for his relationship with Henry and what makes it more telling is that we only see him change out of it once Henry has explicitly stated that he will try to be brave and that he wants history to include his love for Alex. It is why we see Alex in the yellow and blue Mexican patterned jacket - he no longer needs fight for his love because he has won - this yellow/blue jacket is a piece of costume tied into pivotal moments - we see the jacket twice - when he wins his bid to get the Claremont campaign to focus on Texas and Ellen tells him he’s going to Texas, and again when he has won the day with Henry and they are back together - in some ways that makes this his victory jacket - victory in his own personal battles - battles that are central to who he is and his development and I think that’s petty neat!

Hopefully you've enjoyed this deep dive into the sets and costumes of the film - I've loved writing it and I can only hope its coherent! Feel free to hit me up with any questions or comments and likes and reblogs are love ❤️🤍💙 thank you for reading and until next time...

#this really is a monster post!!!#rwrb meta #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb movie #first prince #costume meta #set meta #meta #long post #kym costume meta #costume theory #colour theory #colour theory meta #kym writes meta

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kitramune · 5 months

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Kissing (Rating - T)

Here's a short InuKag drabble I wrote today. I was gonna post it for WIP Wednesday but I ended up considering it finished. Oh, well! This one was inspired by @shinidamachu and her campaign to reclaim the first kiss attempt as a proper InuKag moment.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kissing did not come naturally into Inuyasha's thoughts. Having grown up without much parental love, and even less romantic prospects, he didn't know if it ever would. He knew about kissing, of course. People did it all the time. Spouses, lovers, parents and their children, people even kissed their pets. But he'd never kissed anyone before – at least that he could remember. He'd definitely never been described as what one might call particularly loving.

But that day, in that moment, when Kagome had yelled in his face and made a big deal about her appearance – which he'd stopped thinking about if he was being honest – and whether he hated her – was she stupid? Why would he protect her and let her see his human form if he hated her?! - it did enter his mind. As swiftly and suddenly as this spitfire girl had come into his life, he found himself drawn to show her how she made him feel.

Her face was just so close. So perfectly shaped into that cute angry huff she got. They were way too close and he could suddenly think of nothing he wanted more than to lean in the extra few inches and learn what her lips would feel like pressed against his.

And why shouldn't he do it? He should totally do it. Just a little. To see if he even liked it. Who knows? It might be gross. Overrated. It'd be easy enough to find out.

He'd already told her she smelled good, so shouldn't he be more open? More honest about what he'd been feeling for her lately? She wouldn't stop going on about Kikyou, and it would at the very least be an effective way to shut her up. Right?

He grabbed her hand as gently as he could, tired of hearing her tirade. Hell, it hurt to hear she still didn't trust him after he'd bared his damn heart to her on his human night! Her eyes conveyed nothing but confusion at his action. Clearly she hadn't expected it. Yeah, well that made two of them, to be honest.

“You have it wrong...”

…

The second time he tried was admittedly way later than he'd meant it to be. Kagome was clearly not ready for kissing yet the first time, and he wanted to respect that. He did. Even if it drove him crazy sometimes! But hearing her reiterate her promise right before the final battle, well... It pulled at a deep-rooted longing in his chest. She wasn't going to leave him, even for her own safety. She wanted to stay with him forever. He wanted to stay with her forever. That's what people called marriage, right? So if he was proposing, he should kiss her too, right?

He wanted to. He wanted to so badly... He took her hand, just like last time. She still looked surprised, but not in the same way. She almost looked... expectant? And her hand was reciprocating his hold, just slightly, if not a little sweaty, showing her anxiety.

“Then, if that's what you want... I swear on my life to protect you.”

…

Kagome's giggle rang in his senses as Inuyasha nibbled at her ear, pressing her up against the outer wall of Kaede's hut. She'd been back with him for three days and he swore it was impossible to keep his hands off her. He'd never figured himself for the kind of man who would be this insatiable just to kiss his woman, but here they were, laughing in hushed voices and stealing touches when they were supposed to be working.

“Y'know,” Kagome grinned, returning his affections by kissing at his neck, “You'd better cut that out, cuz if you don't stop soon, I won't let you stop at all.”

Inuyasha groaned, dipping his head to press their lips together in one last taste before he had to let her go. “Don't remind me I have to travel out of province today... If I back out, that lech will catch on and never let us hear the end of it.”

“You better get going so we can afford our own home quickly, then.”

“Yeah,” he sighed in resignation. “Yeah, you're right.”

His wife waved him goodbye with far too much amusement cheer for his liking, and to his credit he did make it a few steps away from her... But then he cursed and rushed back to sweep her up into another deep kiss, eliciting more laughter from the woman now back in his arms.

“Just saying goodbye properly,” he growled.

She nodded through the kisses before managing to speak. “Come home soon, Inuyasha.”

“Yeah. I'll be back home before you know it.”

#Inuyasha #InuKag #fanfic #myfics #sorry it's so short #but I felt like I had nothing more to add #hopefully it's still cute

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welcometothedopeworld · 18 days

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Would you do a request for Hokusai Masaki where one of his brothers accidentally lets it slip that he’s in love with the reader?

Summary: Hokusai is completely in love with you, and while the rest of AKYR can see it, they don't think you can. So they tell him that actions speak louder than words.

Pairing: Hokusai Masaki X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1247

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this! I enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would! I hope you enjoy it too!

Hokusai is definitely a man of few words. Everyone in Akanyatsura can attest to that. But they also knew that his actions spoke louder than words. And of course, it was no secret to them when he started seeing you more often, that he was infatuated with you. He was always helping you with your chores and hanging out with you, indulging your every whim. And it was so painfully obvious to his Akanyatsura brothers, that some were getting annoyed with his behavior.

"You're going out with them again?" Reo whined as he flopped dramatically onto the table in their living space.

Hokusai nodded. "They asked me to visit. I won't be gone long."

"You say that every time." Satsuki pouted. "And yet you stay out for hours on end with them."

"It's like we don't even exist to you anymore!" Reo cried and wiped fake tears from his eyes.

Hokusai simply watched his brothers, slightly confused. He didn't think he spent that much time with you. Sure, he has been seeing you more often, but that was because you both wanted to. And he was still for Akanyatsura when Iori needed him. He definitely was not shirking his responsibilities. So he had no idea why they were acting like this.

Iori hummed to himself. "Well, I think it's sweet. I think it's about time this family expanded."

"What are you talking about?!" Zen sputtered, which in turn made Iori chuckle.

"I'm simply saying another member of the group would be just fine to me. I'm not implying I would replace any of you; believe me, you're all irreplaceable, but one more person in this family is just what we need I think."

Zen let out a sigh. "I see. Forgive me for jumping to conclusions."

"You need to get your mind out of the gutter, my friend." Iori grinned as Zen blushed.

"But that all depends on if Hokusai actually invites them to join our family!" Reo stated as a matter of fact. "And we all know he won't do that!"

Hokusai tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It's obvious!" Satsuki replied. "You're not very good with words, least of all when they're supposed to be romantic. We all know the two of you are going to be dancing around your feelings for ages. And the rest of us are going to have to suffer because of your pining."

"I don't make you suffer." He shot back. "And I don't need words to be romantic. You know actions speak louder than words."

"But are they receiving the message you are trying to convey through your actions?" Zen asked, then held his hands up in surrender. "I mean no offense, but sometimes people aren't perceptive to action and need to be told."

Hokusai thought for a moment before he shrugged. "I hope so. But if they weren't, I wouldn't even know what to say to tell them my feelings."

Iori shook his head. "We can't help you with that. Those words need to come from you and your heart. You can do this, I know you can."

He slowly nodded. "Alright. I'll try."

Smiling and nodding, Iori shooed him out the door. "Now go! They're waiting for you!"

Again, Hokusai nodded before leaving the Akanyatsura house. It didn't take him long to get to the park right outside of your apartment building. You both loved hanging out there, whether it was by walking around the pond together, climbing the trees, or finding stray cats to play with. But he knew as he sat on your favorite bench that today would be different. He was going to try and tell you just how much you meant to him and how much he cared about you. He just needed to find the right words.

"You look lost in thought." Your soft voice lightly teased him. "What's on your mind, Hokusai?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. How are you?"

"I'm fine." You nod. "Better now that you're here."

He smiled. "That's good to hear."

You sat next to him, your shoulder barely brushing his. He was thankful you enjoyed just sitting in silence with him. With you there was no pressure to speak. He could just sit there and enjoy the day with you next to him. Perhaps this was how he confessed to you. Not with his words, but with his actions.

"Wow, this is more boring than I thought it was going to be." A whisper catches his attention. Hokusai glances at you, but you don't seem to have noticed the whisper.

"Well, it is Hokusai we're talking about." If he didn't know any better, he'd say that sounded like Satsuki...

Casually looking around, Hokusai finally noticed Satsuki and Reo failing to hide behind a tree. He glared at them, but that didn't stop them from staring and teasing the two of you. He thought he would be left alone with you. But apparently he thought wrong. He just hoped Iori didn't ask them to come spy on him like an overprotective older brother.

Due to his focus being on the two younger members of Akanyatsura, he didn't notice you at all. And how your focus had shifted to him and the boys hiding behind the tree. He didn't notice you hiding a chuckle behind your hand.

"You think he forgot what he told Aniki earlier?" Satsuki loudly whispered to Reo. "That he said he was going to confess to them?"

Reo shook his head. "Maybe he did. He's obviously not going to make a move. He would have done it by now."

"Yeah, he's had more than enough time now to tell them how much he loves them!"

Hokusai grit his teeth. If he wasn't worried about making a scene in front of you, he would totally beat the two of them up right now. But when you tapped on his shoulder stopped him from getting up and having a little "chat" with his younger AKYR brothers.

"Are you alright?" You ask, with a sweet smile on your lips.

He hesitates before nodding. "I'm okay."

Your smile widens as you shake your head. "No, you're not. I can tell you're not. Those boys over there are giving you a hard time, aren't they?"

Again he nods.

"Thought so. And if I didn't know any better, it almost sounded like they said something about you being in love with me?" Your smile was teasing and Hokusai could feel his cheeks turn red at your words.

"I- maybe. I mean, yes, I do." He mumbled.

Your smile only continued to widen. "Well, that's good to know. But it's crazy of them to think we weren't already dating. I mean, we've been together for a couple months now, at least!"

"W-we have?"

You nod. "The way you've acted around me proves how much you care about me and how much you want to be around me. You've more than proven yourself to be a worthy boyfriend. So you don't need to come up with some elaborate confession plan. I'm already yours."

He felt the tension in his shoulders ease and a smile stretched across his face. "And I'm yours."

"That's good to know." And with that, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He responded by pulling you closer, his hand cupping your face. It was absolutely perfect.

"GET A ROOM YOU TWO!"

"SATSUKI KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT OR YOU'LL RUIN THE MOMENT!"

#Paradox Live #Paradox Live Fanfiction #Paradox Live Oneshot #Anime #Anime Fanfiction #Anime Oneshot #Akanyatsura #Hokusai Masaki #Hokusai Masaki X Reader #Hokusai Masaki Fanfiction #Hokusai Masaki Oneshot #Hokusai Masaki Fluff #Hokusai #Hokusai X Reader #Hokusai Fanfiction #Hokusai Oneshot #Hokusai Fluff #Oneshot #Fluff

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whumpshaped · 2 months

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this has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for ages... it was supposed to be the first of my robot drabbles to go up but here we are. i hope i'll have spoons to write more for these guys... i'll post some picrews sometime for the cast and also make a masterlist and give the story a title

masterlist

content: robot whumperee (literally whumpee and whumper in one i don't know how to describe it any other way), sci-fi setting, implied systemic whump, morally dubious caretaker, living weapon

Szoren grabbed the closest rag and did a cursory wipe-off on his tools before turning towards his robot: the Self-Sufficient Riot Control Unit, the very first one they'd ever created. SSRCU-01. Zaps, as they'd affectionately nicknamed it. An absolutely magnificent piece of machinery, something Szoren and his colleagues had been working on for years before they managed to get it to function properly.

Well, as properly as they could at the time. If he didn't count the unfortunate shocking incident from the first week, and the even more unfortunate airlock incident from the second week, he could say Zaps was doing a fine job of only hurting those it was meant to be hurting.

Which, of course... Szoren didn't like that his poor baby was made for such a brutal purpose... But he couldn't change the reality of it, and he was just glad to see his creation performing well.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" he asked cheerily, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the custom murderbot.

"The central processing unit seems to be malfunctioning, sir," it said, monotone as ever. Szoren didn't mind. He wasn't good with emotions anyway.

"Malfunctioning? How? I'll run diagnostics, but you can talk to me in the meantime." He hooked up Zaps to the computer, hoping the 'malfunction' would be easy to spot and solve. At least it wasn't the motor functions this time — he really didn't need another injury.

"The reactions are delayed, sir. I hear the orders and I see the mistakes I'm meant to be fixing, but the body locks up before I can carry out the task. It almost allowed one of the workers to run away."

Szoren frowned. Zaps was entirely okay from the looks of it, or at least the computer didn't find anything wrong with it.

"I'll take a look myself. Maybe it's something to do with the joints and not the CPU."

"The joints are fine, sir," it said firmly.

"It can't hurt to check—"

"The joints are fine, sir."

Szoren felt a chill run down his spine. There was no discernible emotion in Zaps' voice; it wasn't capable of conveying human emotion. There shouldn't have been an intensity to its stare either... But for some reason Szoren felt like he couldn't push it. That wasn't a nice feeling when it came to something he himself had helped design and create.

"Zaps... I'm going to take a look at your joints now." He didn't want to do something without the robot's consent; but to be entirely fair, the robot not consenting wasn't something that had ever even crossed his mind. It was equipment. A tool. It didn't consent to being worked on any more than the screwdriver consented to being worked with.

For a long moment, Zaps didn't react. Then the light behind its visual sensors seemed to dim as it obediently popped open all cosmetic panels that were hiding major joint connections. "Yes, sir."

"Good robot," Szoren murmured, relieved. "You said they'd 'lock up'?"

"Yes, sir."

"It sounds like something that some oil should fix, but... Evidently, it's not. All of these joints are perfectly oiled."

"Yes, sir."

"And it only happens when carrying out orders? What if it's something like... Bad wiring, something triggered by the electrical impulse..."

"There are other malfunctions, sir," it interrupted, and Szoren looked up. "I'm unsure how to describe those. It is akin to a virus. Someone might have tampered with the programming."

"What's the malfunction?"

"Sometimes I get false orders to hurt my superiors, sir. While carrying out my regular tasks is difficult, these false orders are at times incredibly difficult to resist."

"What?" Szoren turned back towards the computer, frantically trying to find something in the code that could explain this. This was alarming. This was dangerous! Possibly lethal! If Zaps ended up hurting someone important, the whole tech department would be on trial; and not a favourable one. "What are these orders like? Are they like your regular orders? Maybe it's something about the target list, maybe... Maybe someone tampered with that."

"Sir?"

He barely glanced at the robot. "Yes?"

"What is the purpose I have been created to fulfil?"

Szoren stopped. "You know your purpose."

"To punish workers who fail to comply with the rules set out for them by the Seventh Earth Council." At least it remembered that line. Szoren had drilled it into its head before anything else. "But is that..." It... trailed off? It had never done that before. Robots didn't trail off.

"Is that?" he prompted, more and more concerned.

"Is that all I've been created for?"

Szoren inhaled sharply. That was a loaded question, and one he didn't really want to answer yes to. It was the truth, though; Zaps had been created to punish and execute.

"Yes," he breathed, acutely aware that if the robot disliked his answer, it could very well turn its weaponry against him. It shouldn't be able to, but clearly, it was doing a lot of things and having a lot of thoughts it shouldn't have been able to.

It stared at him for a long, tense moment. "Understood, sir," it said eventually. Szoren exhaled.

"I'm going to switch you off and ask Kiki for some help in fixing you. How's that?" He tried to go back to his cheery attitude from before, but his voice came out strained and a little scared. Zaps didn't seem to mind.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

tags: @whumpsday

#whump #whump writing #szoren #zaps #sci-fi setting #implied systemic whump #morally dubious caretaker #living weapon #riot (story)

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thelikesoffinn · 4 months

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been thinking about it lately and Ascended Astarion = Dead Dove content and I'm not sure that's really understood, even by the writers. when I finally got around to the character I decided to ascend him with, I was SUPREMELY disappointed by the conversations options following it. it seemed like the dialogue choices were trying to push the narrative on my character that they made this choice w/o considering the consequences and they are bound to regret it. the closest I could get to answering his question of "why did u let me go thru w it?" was "I wanted u to be powerful".

but with that character? my accept Bhaal durge? that isn't the reasoning. at all. (related: "what do u want as a reward?" "ur body" was the closest answer my character could give. otherwise I'd've answered "murder :))")

for context, this run was born of a conversation w my friend discussing supposed content no one had seen bc "no one's that evil". we thought, what's more evil than killing literally every npc? I failed the conceit of the challenge immediately bc I can't handle senseless animal cruelty in my games. killing children? fine (u need a mod to do this in BG3, but I am thankfully plenty delighted to use mods), killing a neutral animal npc? no can do.

so I started this durge (they are the only character that can come close to "killing" Gale with that first interaction) run with the intention of killing everyone except Shadowheart (only a cleric of Shar can truly kill Aylin) and Astarion (bc I need to smooch him). (and there is a mod for playing an origin character as durge, which would have meant playing as Shadowheart, but I MUST smooch Astarion and I don't tend to do het or female romances, unless I'm forced to (*sighs dreamily* oh, Garrus Vakarian). I'm just not interested in that set of equipment in that way, so may as well just make a durge dude.) somehow something went wonky and Halsin ended up joining us and I was so perplexed I just allowed him to stay. (he's meant to attack if u destroy the grove but free him anyway, but instead he just showed up that night and went straight into his Moonrise spiel. is it bc the wolf Silver never aggro'd me and thus survived???) so I fixed the Shadow Curse all while killing every single humanoid and hostile animal in acts 1 & 2. including Thaniel, which makes Halsin's talks later in act 3 of getting news from Thaniel and the Grove hysterical. idk what I did but I sure as hell broke this poor man.

(on a related note, Halsin will give out to u when u accept Bhaal, but will still give u the "u have exceeding my expectations, also we should bang" in the same conversation. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT IT'S DARKLY FUNNY.)

in the conversation when Astarion is expressing surprise that u let him go thru w it, my durge is just like, yes my motivation is that I like to kill ppl :))). it's not a sex thing for him (that is separate from the murder!), but he's still fine w the outcome. yes, Astarion looks down on him, but that's fine! he's allowed to be wrong about that, durge doesn't care. so long as Astarion lets him kill ppl he genuinely just does not give a shit.

(I actually had the idea that if Halsin were to ever rediscover his morals and tried to leave he'd ask Astarion to turn him so Halsin would not have a choice. as I said, this durge *does not fucking care*.)

this is probably the only character I will play that would let Astarion ascend bc I enjoy dead dove SOMETIMES, but not always or in large doses, but I get so few dialogue options that convey that in an rp sense! I don't think the writers/devs REALLY took that into consideration, sometimes. like, yeah, there are going to be ppl making fucked up choices but surely no one would go THIS far! for THIS reason! honey, u need to look up the Dead Dove tag on AO3, there are absolutely ppl making choices for those fucked up reasons.

(and I understand the whole "this confirms to Astarion about sex yadda yadda". even if that's not Tav/Durge motivation, that's how ASTARION would *interpret* it.)

(oh yes, and also, don't let Orin abduct Yenna. it doesn't matter whether u find out in camp or the sewers, Grub will not survive. I was devastated. if I'd known, I would have made sure Halsin was available for her, but she won't abduct a party member or someone ur romancing.)

long story short, I want to play a durge that even ascended Astarion finds unsettling. that's the dream.

Hello there, duck!

Your run sounds delightfully evil! I wish I could play one of those, haha, but I'm too soft hearted. My one evil run with my durge Salira was ended before even entering the grove because I felt horrible after getting rid of Gales hand! Seriously, I can barely take killing the squirrel as durge, and I always save Alfira because I feel horrendous otherwise!

(Fun fact, on all five runs I've done Yenna just vanished at some point and grubs was left standing in my camp, which was like...eh?)

And yes, Halsin is always somewhat of an issue, isn't he? He's just running around, causing mayhem in peoples games because he seems slightly bugged out, haha. I had one run, where he wouldn't go to the spot where we save Thaniel because he joined the fight against Marcus at Last Light and somehow got stuck, for some reason. Same run, none of his vocals would play, which was also very interesting. Everybody would make noise when they climbed or got hurt but Halsin was always silent and just there! And in another run the dude really straight up hated me - he was so mean and snappy, I swear to god he wanted my Durge dead - and then he suddenly went: "Hey you're super cool and strong and I just want to gently fuck you beneath the moonlight if you'll let me" and I was like: Say what.

Regarding the dead Dove: I've talked to people of Discord before, and some of them mentioned something similar a couple of times, but personally, I do think the writers actually knew what they were doing here!

Of course, I do agree that it relies heavily on the regret notion and that it somewhat shoehorns you into a certain narrative corner, I noticed that too when I was ascending him for research - I hated doing that, but all for the asks, haha - but I thought it was really fitting for what it is!

The bad ending, that is. I know we all somewhat forget that because of how people view him as a character, but ascension is the bad ending. Even on an evil run, where your character may have considered all options, it is very likely that Tav hasn't accounted for one very important part of being a true vampire.

The obsession.

It's still somewhat mild in the game, though definitely there, but it will only get stronger as time goes on, and it will probably get to the point that the only escape is death. Either his or Tav's. So, in the end, ascension will come with an armload of regret and the writers were making sure we know that.

And, on top of that, even if we let him ascend in a pursuit for power - or in in your durge's special case: murder :) - we still cast spawn Astarion aside because he doesn't fit our needs, thus making it very clear to him that who he is isn't enough and his behaviour is the price we now pay.

It's pretty much the same with all the other companions as well - justiciar Shadowheart and ascended Lae'zel, for example. However, it doesn't bother us as much, because we have different expectations towards ascended Astarion than, for example, dark justiciar Shadowheart. We don't expect a positive narrative here, a narrative where becoming shady-shar's loyal subject isn't an objectively dumb decision to make, so we don't mind the dead dove as much. It's exactly what we've been expecting - and Aylin even warned us how Shadowheart would change upon becoming a dark justiciar - so yepp. This went exactly how we thought it would and this is what we wanted.

Astarion, however, is a somewhat special case, because his bad ending is, by far, the one that gets the most romanticised. He's so heavily romanticised by so many, that the bad parts nearly start to fade, even with those who don't like the ascended ending. It becomes just 'the other ending', if you will.

And yet, it's still the bad ending.

Ascension is the bad ending for a character that we've somewhat given up on. That we misunderstood so deeply, mayhaps, that we traded his entire being for power and, quite frankly, beauty. We showed him that he isn't enough, we let the boy run and hide the only way he knew how and now we're faced with the consequences and yes, it's really dead dove but...what did we expect?

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hey! My mom died a couple of weeks ago, could you please write a steve or eddie fic comforting a fem reader who’s grieving? Please?

AN | Hi bb, I’m sorry this took a bit to get to! This one got to me a little bit because I understand in my own way what you’re going through; next month it’ll be two years since I lost my mom and I know how hard it can be. I hope you’re doing okay and taking care of yourself and know you are loved.

Warnings | [Parent] Death and grieving

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stared out the window and watched the rain falling. It seemed like it hadn’t let up in ages and mirrored how your heart had been feeling. You heard his soft footsteps, having memorized his gait over the years, but it still made you jump when he rapped his knuckles against your open door. You found that you didn’t even have the energy to look over at him, instead leaning your head against the glass as you sat in the bay window.

“Hey sweetheart.” Steve always had the sweetest and softest voice. He came across the room, pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before sitting opposite you on the padded seat. He bent his knees and they touched yours, the contact so minimal but so needed and comforting in the moment. He didn’t ask how you were doing, and honestly? You appreciated that so much. He knew you weren’t okay and he respected that.

“Hi Stevie,” your throat was dry and scratchy. It was the first thing you’d said out loud all day. The boy reached for your hand, gently taking it in his as he threaded your fingers together. He offered you the smallest of smiles and you found it in yourself to give it back to him, “you didn’t have to come over.”

“I wanted to,” he promised and you knew he meant it. He was good like, always so gentle and kind and loving. You didn’t how you deserved him but you loved him so much that it hurt sometimes, “wanted to see my girl. I love you.”

“I love you,” you echoed, the sentiment sounding flat and monotone, but you supposed everything you said these days did. But he knew that you meant it, “I don’t think I’m very much fun today, Steve. I don’t want to bore you.”

“You could never bore me. ‘sides, you’re my favorite person ever and even doing nothing with you makes me happy,” you felt tears well up at the sentiment and couldn’t help the way your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry.

“Oh Steve,” the tears pearled up and ran down your cheeks. He used his free to hand to gently brush them away, tenderly running his knuckles along the apple of your cheek. You sniffled at him and, as if he could read your mind, he gently pulled you into lap, “I’m sorry. I just…I don’t even know. But I love you, I know that much.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he wrapped his strong arms around your waist as looped yours around his neck before lying against his chest. He held you tightly, rubbing your back in soothing motions as you buried your face in his neck. He could feel the cotton of his shirt getting soaked with tears, but he didn’t mind. Steve just hoped that he could properly convey just how much he loved you, “I’ve got you, okay? I’ve always got you, baby.”

And he held you for some time, letting you get out all of your tears and whatever else you needed out, whimpering soft words of love and devotion in your ear. Once you were all out of tears and feeling exhausted, you pulled back to look at your boyfriend with red-rimmed eyes. He kissed your cheek before he pressed his forehead against yours, “c-can we stay in today? I don’t feel like doing much. I kinda just want to get in bed and take a nap.”

“We can do whatever you want,” he promised, “a nap sounds good too. Let’s do that, and the rest we can figure out later.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay however long you want me to.”

“Forever?”

“Forever it is.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Steve?” the golden boy was lying next to you in bed, half awake and blinking his pretty honeyed eyes sleepily. He turned on his side so he could properly face you, using a tender touch to brush your hair out of your face. You made a small sound but leaned into his touch.

“Sweetheart,” a lazy smile tugged up the corner of his mouth and you couldn’t help but press a kiss there, “good morning to you.”

“Hi,” your heart swelled with affection for the boy. He’d been so good to you over the last couple of months - not that he hadn’t been before - but you were so thankful for him. You weren’t sure if you could have handled things as well without him. He was so patient, never pushing or pulling, so attentive and he poured every bit of love he had into you. A lot of people ended up just leaving you to your own devices after a bit, offering their condolences at the loss of your mother and telling you to reach out, but you could tell their concern was only surface level.

But not Steve. Not your wonderful, amazing boyfriend. He was there with you through the multitude of emotions and stages of grief (which totally didn’t happen how everyone made it seem), and never made you feel unloved or like your feelings were invalid. And maybe he didn’t always know what to say or do, but having him there, your rock, made everyday a little bit easier.

“I was thinking,” you whispered softly and you half expected him to tease you but he didn’t. Not today, despite the fact that you knew what his little smile meant, “I think I was to go and see her today. I think I’m ready.”

You hadn’t gone back to the cemetery since her funeral. It felt like if you went, you were acknowledging that she was permanently gone, that she was never coming back. If you never visited, you could almost pretend that she was just gone on a trip or something. But you knew the truth and while it still hurt, and you knew it always would, you couldn’t just keep ignoring things either. And maybe it would be some sort of closure, or something, but you felt that you needed this.

“Okay,” he leaned in and kissed you softly, pulling you closer into his warm, pliable body, “that’s what we’ll do today. I’m with you every step of the way, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you exhaled shakily but offered him a smile nonetheless, “I love you so much, Steve.”

“I love you too, baby.”

-─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It turned out that talking about going and actually going to the cemetery were two totally different things. As soon as Steve had parked, you clutched at the flowers in your hand tightly. Sunflowers - they’d been her favorites. Steve didn’t push you to get out, instead holding your hand and letting you nervously ramble. You’d be ready when you were ready, and he would have waited however look it took.

After about half an hour, you inhaled deeply and exhaled it all back out slowly. You turned to Steve and found his features gently and soft as he held up your entwined hands and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “okay. I’m ready.”

“Okay,” a gentle squeeze of reassurance on your hand. He waited until you reluctantly pulled your hand from his and stepped out of his car, brushing off your dress and holding the flowers close. He came over and wrapped an arm around your waist, “do you want me to come? Or would you prefer to go alone?”

“Come. Please?” you asked and he nodded without hesitation, “she really loved you too.”

“I know,” your mother had been more of a mom to him than his had ever been, “you know, sometimes she’d ask me when we were finally getting married so she could start just calling me her son. I told we’re still so young, but she always insisted when you know you know. She wasn’t wrong.”

“And she was already calling you her son anyway,” you laughed at the memory of her bragging about her wonderful daughter and amazing son-in-law to her coworkers, “she made me promise never to let you go.”

“Did you promise?” his voice held a soft, teasing tone and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly. It felt so good to laugh again.

“Of course,” you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You fell into a comfortable silence as you walked along the path and through so many plots. So many people had been through exactly what you were going through now. And even if it didn’t make things better, it was comforting to know that you weren’t alone.

You stopped when you saw her headstone, and it felt like that same initial blow all over again. For a moment you thought you were going to break down and cry, and go through it all again, but when you felt Steve holding onto you firmly, you were able to ground yourself. You could do this; it was always going to be difficult but you would be okay.

You took the flowers that Steve had taken the duty of carrying and gently laid them down next to the others that were slowly drying up. There was something beautiful about seeing them all there, knowing that there was so much displayed through them, even if it was silent.

“Hey mom,” you whispered softly as your fingers brushed over the dates etched into the marble, “I miss you so, so much. I wish you were here, I wish…I wish I could have one more day with you. Just…something. I wasn’t ready to let you go. But I know that you’re still here, in my heart, and that you always will be. I love you so much and I always will. I was so lucky to have you and be loved by you. But I’m still lucky because I had you and I still have dad and Steve. I don’t know how often I’ll be able to come out here, but I hope you know you’ll always be in my heart.”

You brushed away the few tears that had rolled down your cheeks before letting out a small breath of relief. You traced over her name before slowly standing back up. She might have been gone, but she’d never really be gone.

Turning back, you found Steve standing there, his own eyes glossy with tears and a soft smile on his face. He held his arms open and you threw yourself into them, hugging onto him as tightly as you could.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear before pulling back to study the pretty boy, “my sweet Stevie.”

“I love you,” he smiled sweetly, his hand settling on your hip in a loving grasp, “I’m glad we came.”

“Me too,” you agreed and today you actually meant it. You felt better - lighter - than you had in a long time. It still hurt, but today it hurt a little less. And you knew that over time it wouldn’t feel anything like this anymore. There would always be love and that was the best part of all, “thank you for always there for me.”

“I told you,” he tenderly brushed your hair out of your face, “I’m here forever. With you.”

“Forever with you sounds perfect to me, Steve Harrington.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrinton imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #tw: death

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aita-blorbos · 8 months

Note

WIBTA for getting revenge against the person that ruined my life?

I (36M) am (still am, losing your job doesn't get rid of a persons PHD) a scientist that specializes in theoretical physics and studies of the multiverse. Until around a year and a half ago I had a job at a prestigious science facility, where I designed a device that would transport anything from other dimensions to ours (we had to set it off a little bit ahead of schedule, but overall, I'd say I did a good job with the timeframe I was given!).

This is where a person I'll call SM comes in.

One of the tests I ran on the device involved bringing a radioactive spider from another dimension to ours, but unfortunately, it escaped and bit him, which resulted in him gaining amazing powers, and becoming a superhero (he killed the spider right after it bit him, BTW.) (just thought I should bring that up.) (really stellar guy, takes important moments in his life REAL seriously.) (I don't think text is doing a good job conveying how sarcastic I am being right now, so to clarify: I AM BEING REALLY SARCASTIC.).

My first face-to-face meeting with SM was brief, but impactful. It happened when he and another important-but-not-so-relevant-to-the-story-guy broke in to my (ex) workplace a day before we were going to set off the device for real, all so that they could steal top secret information from us....And a bagel?! Which SM actually used as a projectile to HIT ME WITH (what kind of person DOES THAT? And with so much unnecessary force, too!)

Then, a day later, he blew up my invention WHILE I WAS STILL IN THE ROOM. I wasn't even one of the people fighting him, all I was trying to do was grab a canister of the dark energy my device was generating, but he didn't care at all that I was there!

Because of him blowing up that machine, I was turned in to...Something else. I don't have a face anymore, and my entire body is covered with these holes. Things fall through them all the time, and it leads to all sorts of embarrassing accidents that always cause people to laugh at me.

Not only that, but by doing this, he also made me lose my job, which was practically my entire life. I look so grotesque, my own family won't even LOOK AT ME, and I can't even get a new job to support myself because of the way my condition makes me look!

So that means by the time SM and I finally met again, I was so dangerously low on funds, I had to resort to a life of crime! I decided to jumpstart it by robbing an ATM machine because that's pretty harmless and easy, isn't it? I mean, it's a machine, nobody loses anything from me taking from one of those, besides for the bank, but who cares about them? They steal from people all the time! I'd hardly say it's a villainous act to take from them, except for the fact that robbery is illegal. Anyway, the shopkeeper assaulted me for trying to steal from the ATM machine.

Maybe I should have seen that one coming.

...Eh, whatever.

It only gets worse from here, because then, out of nowhere, SM shows up, makes fun of me, and then cuts me off while I tried explaining to him who I am and why I should matter to him, just so he could read a text. Which is just unbelievably rude, and tbqh, pretty unheroic!

He spent the rest of what was SUPPOSED to be our epic battle on his phone, texting some person. This fight was meant to be a huge deal for both of us, and he didn't take it seriously at all, he barely even bothered to look at me for a majority of it. At one point, he even webbed me up and left in the middle!

Our fight did eventually resume, and midbattle he told some police officer that I was just a "villain of the week", while I was RIGHT THERE!

Eventually, the fight brought as all the way back to the site of the accident, right where our connection first formed. This was finally a point where I had the chance to tell him everything, what I did for him, what he did to me! And even after all that, he still treated me like a JOKE!

I got really mad at that point, which came back to bite me pretty quickly. As in, I accidentally kicked myself in to one of my own holes (like I said before, I have a lot of holes, they go places, one hole took my foot to my own butt, and I fell in to another hole).

But on the bright side, this resulted in me finding out that I'm a transdimensional superbeing. Which gave me an epiphany! I finally know what I want to do now, and how I'm going to do it. There's a lot of science involved, multiversal travel, stuff like that. But the basic idea is that I'm getting payback. The way I see it, he took everything from me, so why shouldn't I get to take everything from him? It makes sense, right? Because of him, I have nothing, so why should he have anything? It's only fair!

So, as long as everything goes according to plan, by the time I'm done, he shouldn't have anything left, and then he'll finally learn to respect me.

....Wow, this came out way longer than I thought it would.

Here's a tl;dr!:

SM ruined my life, WIBTA if I ruined his in return?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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heliza24 · 1 year

Note

Oh, I Iove your thoughts and the overall approach to the analysis of the intimate (and not so) scenes. I would like to read your take on Simon/Marcus scene. Everyone avoids it like a plague or just blames the actors for the lack of chemistry, but I’m sure we were meant to feel the uneasiness between them. What would you say? No pressure though, if it’s not something you want to discuss.

Hi anon! I'm so glad you like my analysis and I'm really happy that you requested that I look at this scene! Rewatching their almost hookup was a bit of a challenge (the second hand embarrassment! it's so much!) but it's a really interesting case study. I think you're absolutely right; this scene is meant to make us feel uneasy. Let's take a look and try to figure out how it accomplishes that.

The first thing I noticed about the scene was the music. This scene doesn't have original scoring or a needle drop. Instead it has diagetic sound. The only thing we hear is the tinny, distant sound of music playing out of Marcus's speakers, and we can't even distinguish what song is playing. I think this is really significant because of how crucial the music is in creating a sense of magic in every other intimate scene. When Simon and Wilhelm are together, I would describe the music as shimmery, bright, and warm. It wraps them up and transports them into their own special world together. But with Marcus, we are firmly grounded in the real world, where things can be awkward or embarrassing or uncomfortable.

The second thing I noticed was the way the scene is edited. Most of the time when two characters are having a conversation, the editing will go: shot (on character A as they speak), reverse shot (on character B as they speak). But sometimes in this scene, the camera lingers on Simon even as Marcus starts to speak. There are a lot of close ups of Simon's face; the camera examines him a lot more closely than it does Marcus. I think it's pretty clear that Simon is the POV character in this scene. We're supposed to feel tuned in to his feelings of discomfort and embarrassment. Omar does a great job of conveying this and the camera gives us time to take it in. This is also in contrast to Wilmon scenes, where the camera pays equal attention to both characters, emphasizing their connection.

Marcus's little apartment is warmly lit, but there are no shafts of light or lens flares like in some of the Wilmon scenes. And while some of the close up shots of Simon have a golden tint to them, the shots of Marcus are more cool colored. They're disconnected, not in the same intimate space together.

I haven't talked a ton about costuming in my previous posts, but I think it's worth thinking about here. In the scene immediately preceding this one, Simon puts on the orange sweater he stole from Wilhelm. When he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he immediately feels sad and annoyed to see himself immersed in this visual reminder of Wilhelm, and takes the sweater off and texts Marcus as a response. But when he goes over to Marcus's place, he's changed into his orange sweatshirt. He's still wearing Wilhelm's color, even as he tries to engage with Marcus.

Simon calls Marcus's place "cozy", in what I think is a deliberate call back to Wilhelm saying the same thing about Simon's room in season 1. I think this makes sense from a character perspective; hearing his space called cozy made Simon feel good, so he's mirroring that back to Marcus in an attempt to make Marcus feel good. But it also reminds the viewer of that season 1 scene, and helps us notice the contrasts.

The last thing I noticed, and the thing that makes me most uncomfortable about this scene, is the way that the blocking (shout out Sara Arrhusius and their great work) puts Marcus in control. In some ways this feels like a further emphasis on how much of an adult Marcus is in this scene. Marcus is so mature that he has his own place, a rarity for a high school student (even if it is just in the backyard of his family's house), and Simon is totally on his turf. Marcus is dictating the pace of their relationship, without input from Simon. And he's also placing Simon in a subservient physical position, by pushing him away, holding the back of his neck, and putting his arm around him on the couch. There's nothing wrong with those gestures in and of themselves, and for some couples those motions would communicate care or be a part of a positive sexual dynamic. But so much of Simon's character revolves around his outspokenness, his fearlessness. His scenes with Wilhelm are filled with physical give and take. They read as equals. But Marcus's body language here feels like he's trying to silence Simon, and assert himself as the dominant partner in the relationship. Simon is so embarrassed at his advances being rebuffed that he goes along with this without protest, but I think you can tell that it makes him uncomfortable. And it creates the beginning of a pattern where Marcus sets himself up as the more mature partner who has to educate Simon which continues throughout the season.

(This is more of a personal headcanon thing, but I know a lot of fic writers interpret Wilhelm as the more dominant one, or the one who initiates more in the relationship with Simon. But I have the opposite read of their dynamic/roles. Simon's discomfort in this scene is one of my reasons for that. Not to be too self promo-y, but if you agree and need a palate cleanser after thinking about this scene I might suggest the end of chapter 23 of Heart and Homeland for no particular reason 😉)

I hope that makes it clear that this scene was absolutely supposed to create maximum discomfort and second hand embarrassment. The blocking and technical elements all reinforce this. Omar and Tommy were doing their jobs well, and the lack of chemistry isn't a flaw, it's a feature.

Thanks again for asking anon! I love writing these. If anyone else has a scene they want me to examine, my ask box is always open! 💜

#young royals #my meta #simon eriksson #marcus young royals #cinematic analysis #ask box

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vee-beeee · 7 months

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Crappy Mornings

Okay soooo

I had so much fun writing the other fic that I wanted to do it again LOL

So the premise is you're late and have had the WORST morning, and Nines and Conner are worried. Also you knit.

again SORRY if this has been done before

Let the games begin

Warning: Fluff with a CAPITOL F, misunderstandings kinda, shorter than the last one, slice of life I think, very sweet or cringe take that as you will

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You were running late

again.

This seemed to be a theme in your life.

You were supposed to be at the station at 7 am, and it was currently 7:55 am. This wouldn't have been to much of a big deal, if your work partner was anyone else.

Unfortunately, your work partner was your adoring and sometimes overbearing boyfriend Nines.

And your other boyfriend was an overly-anxious, very caring Conner.

So today, you accidently upset 2 punctual androids.

But you had a good reasons to be late!

First, your alarm went off 10 minutes late for absolutely no reason.

Second, your hot water heater was acting up again so you had to take the coldest shower of your life.

And third, probably the worst, you totally accidently dropped your phone in your sink...That was filled with water after you had washed dishes the previous night and forgot to un-plug the sink to drain it. So this meant you had no way to contact Conner or Nines to let them know you were running late.

Awesome.

To top it off, your knitting supplies was totally eluding you. It just disappeared. And you may have looked for it for 8 minutes. But eventually you found it, now you were even more behind.

You hadn't even left home yet.

Walking out of your apartment, you almost got tripped up by a group of bikers. 5 looong minutes of standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot while hearing a bunch of "excuse mes" and "coming throughs".

Then, the good people at your favorite coffee place had also misread your order. It honestly wouldn't have been a big deal but they insisted they fix it for you. Another 6 minutes.

(And you maybe stopped to pet a huge fluffy husky and that may have taken longer than it should've.)

Finally, FINALLY you made it to the station. But you were terrified to face the wrath of anger, from your anxious androids.

Lo and behold, loitering around your desk, immediately spotting you when you entered the office, was 2 very annoyed androids. Well, one was pissed and one had worry written all over his features. Which is worse in your opinion.

"Where have you been" Nines sharply asks, giving you a hard stare while taking in your form, most likely scanning you. His LED a steady yellow with flashes of red, conveying his worry without him realizing. Or he was just REALLY mad.

"You haven't been answering your phone, and we have been worried for your well being" was Conner's response to you being late, his LED also yellow and red. He was giving you the puppy dog eyes that ate at your soul. You held your hands up, guilt written all over you as you rushed to explain your horrible no good morning.

"Guys I'm so sorry, my alarm didn't go off, my phone died, there was an incident with some bikers, and the coffee place got my order wrong and they wanted to fix it, there was this Husky.." and as you continued to ramble about your unfortunate morning, Nines and Conner just stare at you waiting patiently until you were finished. What you didn't notice was there blinking LED's, and an unheard secret conversation.

"Your tone was to harsh, she is clearly having a hard time today." said a sympathetic voice in Nines head.

"Whatever. She scared us, didn't respond to our messages, and she was late. We have important work to do and she cant spend her time letting a missed alarm get to her."

Conner gave Nines a glare after that comment and followed it up with a statement thats outcome would unknowingly make you feel worse

"Your being kind of an ass right now Nines"

Nines scoffed, which accidently caught your attention. If you weren't red before, you sure were now. You knew that they would be pissed at you being late, and his scoff hit somewhere inside you that made you shrivel a little into yourself, even if you didn't know at the time that it wasn't meant for you.

And Nines had his pissed off look activated, and was avoiding your gaze.

You went quiet, not knowing what to say to fix this, which Conner immediately noticed. Cutting off his inner conversation with Nines, he did another scan on you. Your face was flush, and you showed signs of embarrassment. Brief but distinct increase in heart rate, flushed, fidgeting, and you had now started averting your gaze. Without all the scans, and by just looking at you, he could tell you were tired. So he did the most logical thing his programming could come up with to soothe you.

He hugged you.

You immediately softened. The hug was warm and filled with love, you could feel his soft breathes and his synthetic hair ticking your neck. You were guessing Conner had now forgiven you. You let out a sigh and sank deeper into the hug, enjoying it after your rough morning.

You noticed out of the corner of your eye Conner's LED blinking yellow.

You then looked over his shoulder at Nines, who looked like a big baby at the moment. His LED was also blinking, and he was drilling holes into the back of Conner's head with how intently he was staring at him. You took one hand from Conner's back and waved it a little. This caught the RK900's attention, and he looked at you, LED still flashing. And all you did was smile with all your heart at him.

And he instantly softened, and returned it.

And then you took your other hand and did finger guns at him while making a stupid-ass face. You had to make a joke out of a slightly depressing situation.

And then he hardened at you, trying to look angry, but he was totally shaking and you could see him restraining his laughter.

Conner released you, giving you one last look before turning to gaze at Nines. You saw them glaring again and decided to stop it. So you took Nines hand in yours, and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. He eased up again and Conner did too.

"Well wasn't that just the cutest shit I've ever seen" you heard someone grumble from across the bullpen. You laughed and Nines bristled, while Conner went blue, returning to Hank.

Eventually you got to work, but you smiled while doing it. Your morning turned out to be better than expected.

Wait, you totally forgot you need a new phone. Dang.

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THANK YOU FOR READING

sorry for any spelling errorss

I have found that I like writing lol

Sorry its shorter, but i hope its not to cringeee!

okay bye

#dbh connor x reader #dbh rk900 x reader #dbh rk900 #dbh rk800 #dbh connor #detroit become human #rk800 #rk900 #dbh nines

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no-where-new-hero · 8 months

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Some Chapter 42 thoughts because oh my god and also more Emily parallels.

Valancy was looking anything but beautiful when she entered the parlour. Her white night had played fearful havoc with her face. She wore an ugly old brown-and-blue gingham, having left all her pretty dresses in the Blue Castle. But Barney dashed across the room and caught her in his arms.

I love how this paragraph accomplishes two things: it first shows us how Valancy's beauty--which had been brought out of her by her happiness in a nourishing environment--has dimmed again by returning to her old grim circumstances. She can't carry the light and beauty of Mistawis with her here because she has so totally decided to turn her back on it for Barney's "sake." Second, LMM consistently reinforces Valancy's ugliness in the whole chapter to show that Barney has never cared for her superficially. His love for her overlooks such conventions as good looks and gets to the heart of Valancy.

Oh, how dear he was! How she longed to throw herself into his arms! As he put her gently down in a chair, she could have kissed the slender, brown hands that touched her arms.

The things that LMM conveys with hands! Exceptionally aesthetic.

"But I had one friend—or thought I had. A clever, bookish chap—a bit of a writer. That was a bond between us—I had some secret aspirations along that line. He was older than I was—I looked up to him and worshipped him. For a year I was happier than I’d ever been. Then—a burlesque sketch came out in the college magazine—a mordant thing, ridiculing Dad’s remedies. The names were changed, of course, but everybody knew what and who was meant. Oh, it was clever—damnably so—and witty. McGill rocked with laughter over it. I found out he had written it.”

This was where my Dean x Barney AU idea came from, btw. Because of course this is the kind of thing that Dean might do. And the description sounds on point: the bond between them, pointing to similarity--the cleverness and bookishness--the cruel wit.

My first book had been published the year before, and made a hit—I had a bit of money from my royalties. I bought my island. But I kept away from people.

My ten year plan in a nutshell.

"Your Stirling pride can’t stomach them."

LMM forgot she wasn't writing about the Murrays here (I don't think pride as a Stirling virtue (?) was ever mentioned before lol) but its very much a jab you could send at Emily.

“Love you! Girl, you’re in the very core of my heart. I hold you there like a jewel. Didn’t I promise you I’d never tell you a lie? Love you! I love you with all there is of me to love. Heart, soul, brain. Every fibre of body and spirit thrilling to the sweetness of you. There’s nobody in the world for me but you, Valancy.”

I'm pretty sure this is the longest and certainly the most passionate love speech from a guy in all of LMM's canon (excepting Mark Delage Graves). Gilbert talks to Anne about his dream of her. Teddy tells Emily they belong to each other. I'm not entirely sure in either situation if they bring up love to this extent. In a way that works--considering the friends-to-lovers situation. But while this could come across as a little corny, it's also so perfect: in Valancy, we have an unusual heroine who has never really known what love looks like or is supposed to feel like. Hence her inability to recognize Barney showing it to her the entire year. She needs to hear it. Even then she doesn't believe it! It's oddly telling that his anger is what convinces her. But the line of him holding her like a jewel is quite beautiful--Mr. Barney "Anti-Wealth 15$ Pearl Necklace" Snaith.

#lm montgomery #blue castle book club #lmm lockdown #the blue castle #emily of new moon

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aranarumei · 5 months

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the anomalous agate (part one) *updated

hey guys. some of you probably wanted to see "two" written there! that'll take a little more time.

for those of you who don't know what the title's about at all, this is my crossover fic for the case files of jeweler richard and sasaki to miyano. specifically, this asks the question of "what if hanzawa masato visited jewelry étranger?"

i wrote the original version of this chapter in like, four days, and this is me doing an actual editing pass. it's not required to read it, as I don't actually add any new information, but I would recommend it. this fic is also posted on ao3, so you can read the updated chapter there, as well

edit: part two | part three | part four | epilogue

without further ado, I'll leave the fic under the cut!

case 2-x: the anomalous agate (part 1)

The longer I worked for the shop, the fewer days arrived when there were no appointments scheduled. As always, Richard seemed unfazed by the lack of customers. I supposed it made sense—this was a shop that only existed on the weekends, after all. He had hired me, but had the two of us not met by chance, it was likely he wouldn’t have hired anyone at all.

Perhaps the reason my employer seemed so content was the fact that he was currently cutting into a delicate slice of tiramisu crepe cake. He ate with almost ethereal grace, and as I somehow hadn’t thought to grab a slice for myself, my mind wandered to the circumstances that had led me to the purchase.

The week before, I had been making Richard’s royal milk tea as usual—I felt somewhat confident in my skills at this point, but there really was no matching a master—and asked him if there was a reason we didn’t serve coffee to customers. It was a common feature of many cafés, after all, and though this place was no longer a café, we still offered things like tea and snacks to customers.

Richard had stared at me like he was waiting for me to figure something out on my own, and after wracking my brain for possibilities, I tried, “We have barley tea and green tea, so it can’t be because you think anything except for royal milk tea won’t do…”

I received a deep sigh for my efforts. Richard arched an eyebrow. “Do you know how much is involved in the process of making coffee?” he asked.

As the coffee I most regularly consumed came from a can, there wasn’t a single response I could give.

That night, I searched up the process of manufacturing and brewing coffee, and quickly found myself beginning to develop a headache. Not only were there many places where coffee beans were grown, the different ways in which coffee was then brewed and what it was paired with felt almost limitless. Searching for espresso machines brought prices well over 15,000 yen, and it was at that point that I began to understand what Richard had conveyed in a single sentence.

Instant coffee could be made without any sense of technique or equipment, but the kind of coffee that set one’s mind at ease was probably the kind that only a real café was capable of. Or a coffee enthusiast, and I was neither. I tried to conjure the image of being offered canned or instant coffee at Jewelry Étranger, and immediately wrinkled my nose. Coffee at a café was meant to be pleasant; I had no desire to remind myself of what it felt like to work night shift after night shift as a security guard. Any comfort the scent had brought was overwhelmed by its bitter necessity. The caffeine might have kept me awake, but it had worsened the quality of my sleep.

Still, though I had given up the idea of introducing coffee to our drink selection, I must not have completely forgotten about it, because the next time I stepped into a bakery, their offering of a tiramisu crepe cake caught my immediate attention.

I’d had tiramisu only once during a birthday in junior high. Birthdays when I was younger were a melancholy affair—they were small, intimate celebrations that reminded me of the insignificance of my life. It was the same feeling as lighting a candle in pure dark—loneliness shined more under small points of light. But my mother had always remembered to buy a cake year after year, no matter the circumstances. While she had already developed a taste for coffee, I still considered it something that was a bitter, awful drink that adults actually enjoyed. But after some firm persuasion from my mother, I reluctantly dug in.

Add enough sugar, and bitter mellows into sweet. I knew that now, but as a child I had been given an experience akin to magic. Even years after the fact, I could still recall the light and sweet taste accompanied by the delicate hints of coffee and chocolate.

Remembering it now, it was hard to explain why I hadn’t had one in such a long time, but I hadn’t developed the habit of searching out cafés, bakeries, and sweet shops until I started working at Jewelry Étranger, either. Food simply tasted better as of late.

This bakery in particular was a favorite of mine—it felt like every time I entered, there was still some sweet I had yet to try. And encounters like these, where it felt like little parts of my life were slotting together in serendipitous fashions, were becoming far more common. It was obvious in the way I’d found out about Tanimoto-san’s love for rocks and minerals, as well as her friend Shinkai-san’s dance company, or, in a more negative light, Hase-san visiting at the exact time I happened to be in the back of the shop, but when I told Richard this, he simply brushed it off.

“The more knowledge and experience you acquire, the more the world reveals itself to you,” he said. “Department stores existed before you began working here, but only once you took an interest in diamonds did you notice the kinds of jewels they sold. The girl you wish was your girlfriend had an interest in minerals long before you began to. That was not fate—it was the fact that the more you learned, the more you could find commonalities or points of connection in the world around you.” He paused. “You, in particular… I would guess that you run into so many coincidences because you’re unable to turn your back.”

He was correct. The more people that visited Richard’s store, the more that I came to knew about the world. I had liked Tanimoto-san before I had met Richard, and she had loved rocks and minerals for far longer. But because I had been able to meet with Richard—and that was an encounter that could have only been fate—I’d gained awareness of a part of the world that had always existed, just not in my eyes. The more I learned about jewels, the more I treasured various things.

So that Saturday, I entered the bakery again, bought a slice, and arrived at Jewelry Étranger with an offering.

“…I still won’t give you a raise, you know,” Richard said.

As always, he looked beautiful. I had the feeling that he’d be annoyed if I told him the purchase was due to a bottomless kind of gratitude.

“I know.” At this point, I wondered if I needed to directly tell him how he paid far more than what I earned as a security guard. But I’d already turned down a job offer to stay here, so he must have known that I felt as if the work I was doing here was infinitely more valuable.

Since we’d had this kind of exchange quite a few times before, Richard tried the tiramisu crepe cake without much fuss. It was obvious he was enjoying it—perhaps his face hadn’t cracked out into a smile or anything of the sort, but there was always a serene look on his face when he was enjoying sweets.

As he ate, a question popped to mind: “Say, Richard, have you had real tiramisu in Italy before?”

Richard paused between bites. “Do you mean to ask if I’ve had authentic tiramisu?”

“Well, you just seem as if you’ve been everywhere in the world…”

Rather than tell me if he’d spent time in Italy or not, Richard began to speak about the conflicted meaning of the word ‘authentic.’

“Tiramisu is Italian in origin, but the exact nature of how it was first produced is still up for debate. As we recognize it today, it certainly does not come in the nature of a crepe cake, but—” He paused again. “Grab yourself a fork, would you?”

I stared at him blankly as he deliberately placed his fork down on his plate. The last few bites of the tiramisu crepe cake remained untouched, and only when he tilted his head in confusion did I rush to the kitchen in realization.

When I returned, Richard continued speaking without commenting on my lack of wits. “Something being authentic indeed means it is the real thing—a genuine article. Authenticity is also related to truth—in art, the style of realism is grounded in an attempt to depict life authentically, without alterations or embellishments. For gemstones this is a fairly simple thing to classify—jewels are mined from specific places, so we designate that which is naturally-occurring as authentic. This runs in opposition as to imitation jewels, which are made from a different material, and approximate the look of a jewel without matching its innate qualities. The question of authenticity also is relevant when looking at heat treatment—pigeon blood rubies that haven’t undergone heat treatment are more valuable, because they have acquired the color naturally, yes?”

I nodded in agreement, reminded of Tanimoto-san’s opinion on heat treatment. She probably prized the authenticity of a gem—the one-of-a-kind nature each jewel had. I understood her feelings, but I also thought there was some kind of wonder in the process of polishing and cutting and heat treatment—each step gave a jewel a special kind of shine. But beauty was the kind of thing where opinions differed often.

I couldn’t imagine anyone disagreeing about Richard’s beauty. “You’ve forgotten to actually put your fork to use,” he said, and I startled out of my daze to hurriedly take a bite.

As expected, the tiramisu crepe cake was both light and sweet. The texture of crepes was certainly different from what I’d eaten as a child, but both carried that sense of pure delicacy—each layer felt like cotton-candied air. Though it didn’t smell like coffee, there was indeed the warm, rich undertone of what I’d come to understand as coffee’s flavor. If I could spend a birthday just like this… it would be a treasure of a memory.

Richard’s lips curled. “How is it?”

I made sure to properly swallow before I replied. “It’s delicious,” I marveled. “I don’t know why I’d forgotten the taste.”

“When you make rice at home, would you consider that rice real or authentic?” Richard asked. When I nodded, still chewing on my final bite of cake, he then asked, “Why?”

Maybe I would buy tiramisu on the way home. Or gift some to Hiromi—I could only assume that my birthday all those years ago was the last time she’d had tiramisu, too. “Well, because it’s rice,” I said. “I bought the rice grains, didn’t I? They were grown naturally. And then I cooked them.”

“If you acquired the exact ingredients required for tiramisu, and followed the same exact process as the original—though there are debates at to what the original is—would you still say that was authentic?”

I frowned. “I… suppose I would? Since everything is exact.” Was there a loophole I was missing?

“Perhaps,” Richard said. “Because it is hard to pinpoint its specific origins, what tiramisu qualifies as authentic can be hard to judge. Though the base components and methods are the same, the exact specifics differ—some may consider any tiramisu that follows the general process to be authentic, while others may not. In the case of champagne, unless what you think of champagne is made in the Champagne region of France, it cannot legally be called by that name. Even if the sparkling wine that is created is similar in taste, or uses the same process and ingredients, if the grapes are not sourced from that region, it will not be champagne.”

“Even though it’s possible to make an equivalent product?”

“You could, indeed, make a very close match,” Richard said. “But it would legally not be authentic. Can you think of a reason why someone might want a name of a food protected?”

When phrased like that, the answer arrived to me immediately. “Brand protection,” I said. “Because the idea of champagne is precious, if other winemakers started selling something labelled as champagne, it would lose some of its prestige. By controlling what can be called champagne, they retain control over the production and image of champagne.”

“Good for you,” Richard said, and I bit down a smile. “Authenticity holds a different value for many people and many things. All that aside… this tiramisu crepe cake remains delicious.”

“It is,” I agreed, and then began to make him tea.

The rest of the day passed by in peace. Richard read from his collection of books, blond hair glittering under the sharp sun. I busied myself by cleaning the kitchen and running out to complete a few errands. The movement was helpful; the chill of autumn had settled in, and I had made the mistake of dressing far more lightly than Richard. His choice of wear likely made it easy for him to sit still, but I thought that even if he was wearing his suit in a blizzard or a tropical summer, he would seem as even-keeled as ever. That was the beauty of jewels—they were something that was gorgeous from all angles.

Around a half hour before closing time, the intercom buzzed.

Richard set down his book, and I went to let in our surprise customer.

Accompanied by a brush of cold wind, a young man stepped into the shop. He had a slim frame, but despite being dressed as lightly as I was, showed no signs of being sensitive to the cold. His hair was slightly long in the front, bangs barely cropped above his eyes, but it was trimmed evenly. He was dressed casually yet neatly in a simple powder-blue sweater, gray slacks, and loafers.

The door closed behind him, and he glanced around the room once before asking, “This is a jeweler’s store, correct?”

“You’d be right,” I said, guiding him to sit in one of the red armchairs.

His hesitant expression curved into a full-faced smile. As he sat down, the awkward lines of his body began to bleed away, and he relaxed into the chair with an air of steady self-assurance. His pose remained polite, though—he kept his hands carefully folded over his lap, and his ankles were loosely crossed.

Originally, I had wanted to give him something to soothe his nerves, but it looked like that was unneeded. Still, I asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Ah… that milk tea would be nice, if you don’t mind,” the man said, gesturing to Richard’s teacup.

Richard returned from the bookshelf, taking over the process of greeting our newest customer, and I headed back to the kitchen. Both men spoke in clear tones, so even though they spoke at a medium volume, their voices carried well enough.

“…Richard Ranasinghe de Vulpian? Is it alright to call you Richard-san, then?” He spoke the name slowly, but he pronounced Richard’s full name without fumbling.

“Yes, that’s alright. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Richard-san. I’m Hanzawa Masato. Apart from gemstones, do you also sell jewelry at this place?”

“Indeed, we do. Is there something in particular you’re looking for?”

I returned to see Hanzawa-san wearing a thoughtful expression on his face. His gaze flickered towards me as I reentered the room. “I was hoping to look at stud earrings… and I’d prefer if they weren’t prohibitively expensive, I suppose. Is there anything else I should specify?”

“Are there any kinds of stones you’re interested in looking at? Or a particular occasion or style this is meant for?”

When I drew close enough, Hanzawa-san turned to face me and accepted my tea, eyes still curved in a pleasant smile. “It’s something like a birthday gift, I suppose. As for stones… I’m not too knowledgeable regarding them.” He paused in contemplation.

Choosing a gift was always a complicated thing, in my opinion. For a gift, the trouble never ended at the purchase—it was always at the gifting that the issues arose. Would they understand the gift with the same meaning that I had in mind when I picked it? I thought about my grandmother and mother choosing my name. Was I the type of person they’d had in mind? I could only hope that was the case.

“I guess… something neutral would be best? The kind of earring fit for daily work wear.”

“Are you interested in looking at birthstones?”

Hanzawa-san sipped his tea, eyes fluttering shut in thought. “Not particularly.”

I had spent enough time with Richard to catch the traces of concern on his face, but not enough to understand the reason. “It will take some time for me to bring my selections out. Please enjoy your tea while you wait,” he said, and then he was off, a determined crease to his brows.

Though I didn’t know exactly what was troubling him, I could learn. Surely Richard wouldn’t mind if I made some small talk?

“Might you also be a university student, Hanzawa-san?”

Hanzawa-san waved dismissively. “It’s only my first year, so I think I’m younger than you. I know I’m a customer, but there’s no need to be formal. Your name is…?”

“Nakata Seigi,” I said. “I’m in my second year.”

“I was right, then,” Hanzawa said. He’d passed over both Richard and my name without comment. I’d expected him to end the conversation there, staying as restrained as he had with Richard, but he spoke to me freely. “Would I be right in saying you seem more interested in jewels as compared to jewelry?” At my confusion, he gestured to my neck, ears, and hands, which were bare of any accessories. “You don’t seem to wear any, so I’d wondered…”

“I suppose it’s the jewel itself that interests me,” I admitted. “Is it the opposite thing for you?”

“Most likely,” Hanzawa said. “It’s what I have experience in, anyways.”

At my once-again befuddled expression, Hanzawa brushed back his hair, and I caught sight of six piercing holes in his left ear.

“I see…” I replied, a little stunned. Now that I knew what to look for, it was easy to spot a few of his piercing holes even when his hair wasn’t brushed back.

Richard had probably noticed them from the moment he’d walked in.

Now that I thought about it clearly, a birthday gift could be presented to oneself, couldn’t it? Just like Yamamoto-san trying to buy herself a garnet. Guys with piercings weren’t all that uncommon in my university, too, but none of them seemed like the type to buy jewels in Richard’s store. Then again, Hanzawa looked so mild-mannered that the existence of his piercings alone was a surprise, so I took this fact in stride.

In the same way that I’d only noticed the tiramisu in that bakery after asking Richard about coffee, it was only now that I realized the reason for Richard’s concern. If it was a present for himself, the uncertainty to Hanzawa’s answers was troublesome.

“If I could ask…” I prompted as Richard returned to the table.

Richard set down his tamatebako with a harder than usual thud. He was still frowning, though maybe more obviously than before.

“Sure.”

“Is there a reason a guy as young as you has so many piercings?”

Before I could get a response, I jumped at the sharp click that sounded at my side. Richard had opened up his tamatebako.

Hanzawa kept smiling up at me. He took a long sip of his tea, and then directed his attention towards what Richard had selected.

I leaned over to take a look. As I did, Richard shot a pointed glare towards me. What? I mouthed back, but he ignored me.

The stones Richard had picked were split between gemstones with faceted cuts and cabochons. The studs themselves were made of a simple silver backing, with the stone fitted on top in a rounded or squared shape. The exceptions to this were the studs fitted with lapis lazuli, which were backed with gold. While I recognized the diamond and amethyst, there were a few colored stones in faceted cuts that I wasn’t certain I could identify. But the ones that caught my attention were the larger stud earrings, which were fitted with polished stones that didn’t sparkle but had bands of red, terracotta, and peach striped across its surface. Others had the same banding pattern but in soft grays and whites.

“These are beautiful,” Hanzawa said, smile fading into a look of deep consideration. He leaned forward to study each one. “Diamonds are a classic choice,” he mused.

“You mentioned that you might prefer a neutral color,” Richard explained, “The clear color of a diamond is well-suited to that purpose. They might be a little above your price point, but if you enjoy the look of them, there are various alternatives you can seek out.”

“I see,” Hanzawa said. He gestured to the rest of the jewels. “I recognize the amethyst. And the… lapis lazuli, yes? Seeing it in person, it certainly is a vivid kind of blue,” he commented. “But I’m a little unfamiliar with the rest of these gems. Would you mind explaining them?”

“Of course,” Richard said. “The green stone you see here is peridot, and the stones in yellow and orange shades here are citrine. Like amethyst, it is a type of quartz. This”—he pointed to a deep orange stone— “is heat-treated amethyst, which looks quite similar. The banded stones are agate. They are a mix of quartz and moganite—both have an equivalent chemical composition, but different crystal structures.”

I hadn’t heard of moganite until now—unless I was mishearing morganite, but Richard had such wonderful pronunciation I thought that was impossible.

Despite the overload of information, all Hanzawa did was nod in understanding. “Peridot,” he repeated to himself, a curious look in his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve seen any before.”

The stone he was looking at was a sparkling kind of lime green. “It’s like the color of spring,” I said.

“Yes,” Hanzawa agreed, and bowed his head, suddenly bashful. “It’s… well, it’s a color I’m fond of,” he admitted.

“Spring is a wonderful descriptor,” Richard said. “Peridot tends to come in lighter shades than most emeralds, and it far more affordable. Would you like to see more?”

Hanzawa shook his head. “…No, it’s not really… well-suited for me.” After considering the other stones before him, he pointed to the lapis lazuli. “What does this get its gold flecks from?”

“Lapis lazuli is composed of several different minerals, and a common one happens to be pyrite, which is what creates that gold color. As you mentioned, the blue of lapis lazuli is quite vivid, which is why, historically, it was ground to create ultramarine. Before a synthetic alternative was created, it was an extremely expensive and prized paint.”

Hanzawa smiled down at the stones. “I’ve heard of ultramarine. Isn't it what provides the blue shades in many of Johannes Vermeer’s works?”

I made a note to ask Richard who Johannes Vermeer was later. Richard’s clients often spoke of things I wasn’t knowledgeable about, but this was the first time it had happened with someone so close to my age—though it wasn’t like people my age often visited this shop in the first place.

“You would be correct. Blue pigments were otherwise hard to come by, so his work is well-known for his use of ultramarine.” After a pause, Richard added, “If you are looking for something neutral, blue tends to be a color that pairs well with others.”

“Oh, that’s—I’ll keep it in mind,” Hanzawa said. Haltingly, he asked, “Is jewelry made of lapis lazuli—is it quite common?”

“Compared to the rest of these stones, it’s a bit of a more delicate material,” Richard allowed, “so it has to be carefully looked after. But historically, lapis lazuli has been used in all kinds of jewelry.”

“…Is that so.”

Silence dragged on between them. Hanzawa seemed unbothered by it, though it was hard to see much of his expression from above. Even face to face, his bangs and lashes expertly obscured his eyes without actually hiding them.

“…This agate. I feel like I’ve seen stones with this banding before.”

“Banding is characteristic but not exclusive to agate,” Richard said. “It has been used for carvings as well as jewelry and remains popular today. Each piece of agate has differences in how exactly the banding occurs, so one could say that each piece is truly unique.”

“Unique…” A ghost of uncertainty appeared on Hanzawa’s face, but it was gone in a flash. “Does it come in any other colors?”

“Oftentimes agate will be dyed into various colors, but there are some other colors present in naturally occurring agates. Would you like to see them?”

“Surely that dyed agate is prettier, huh?” Hanzawa murmured, so low I barely heard him. Apropos of nothing, he then straightened up, looking flustered. “Sorry,” he said. “I think—I think I’m a little in over my head.” He drank the last of his tea in disconcerting silence. “And it’s near closing, anyways,” he added.

“If you’d like to come back, we take appointments,” I said.

“…Right,” Hanzawa said, eyes still fixed on the sets of earrings before him. He set his teacup down on the table. “What would be a good time?”

“Sunday, 4PM?” Richard suggested, and Hanzawa agreed.

With that settled, Hanzawa thanked me for the tea, bid a polite goodbye to us both, and exited the shop, leaving another gust of crisp air in his wake.

Hanzawa had been right—it was now closing time. I went to collect the now empty teacups, only to find Richard looking up at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

He sighed. “Nothing that concerns you, I suppose.”

“By the way, who’s Johannes Vermeer?” I asked, ignoring the faint irritation in his voice.

“Have you ever seen a picture of Girl with a Pearl Earring?” Richard asked.

A vague portrait sprang to mind. “He was the artist?” I confirmed, and then went to wash the teacups.

When I returned, Richard hadn’t moved from his seat. Rather than close it and return to his room of jewels, he was staring at his open tamatebako.

I took a seat next to him. “Thinking about our client?”

“…Jewels reflect the inner feelings of a person,” he said after a long silence. “I wonder how to convey that truth to a person like him.”

“Is it harder because he’s young?” I asked, unsure what Richard thought Hanzawa was like. I didn’t even have enough information to describe Hanzawa as like anything. “Well, Hajime-kun was much younger, but his circumstances were different…”

“You’re quite young yourself,” Richard commented dryly. “Aren’t you two the same age?”

“If we went to the same university, I’d be his senpai,” I said. “Still. It’s rare. I thought he’d be more nervous.”

“…I don’t think he wasn’t nervous,” Richard said, but when I prodded him for an explanation, he didn’t elaborate.

“Well,” I said, wondering how I could clear those worry lines from his face, “we’ll see him next week.”

“Maybe,” Richard said, and this, I didn’t need him to explain.

If Hanzawa Masato came in next week at the appointed time, or if he had disappeared out that door for forever, it was impossible to know.

#my writing #kiri.txt #cfojr #hanzawa to tashiro #hanzawa masato #the case files of jeweler richard #i just KNOW i'm going to post this and find some grammar or spelling mistake i didn't catch and. I'm just going to have to live with that #jeweler richard

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