#so. maybe he didn't even know that was a thing people could do at all
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some trailer things:
big fight around lust/ozzie's place that involves m&m and loona + we know fizzarolli is going to make another appearance, so i wonder how that'll connect potentially. also, new villain?
obvs the whole section of CHERUB working with DHORKS and this massive thing/portal:
john waters big villain episode???? (ghostfuckers from the looks of things)
also more crossdressing in that same episode + millie vs possessed blitz? both millie and blitz giving some evil dead type vibes?
more on stolas' whole social sphere and potential judgement and hell's class politics related to his dating blitz + p much confirmed that blitz will not take stolas' gift in the spirit it was intended
also, "you fucks think you can do this every time-" feels not just like it's about the wider class issues in hell, but maybe like it's personal (potentially with verosika? although it does seem like it's canon that he had more than a little bit of a hand in ending that relationship, so could just be him echoing everything he's been seeing in the treatment of imps and putting that onto stolas in this moment)
and then "thank you blitz, for making me so happy, even for a little while" is during this moment too. lot of teasers for how this is gonna go down (badly, upsettingly, emotionally)
the whole "do you feel any remorse for what you do" feels like a misdirect -- that is, it's edited to look like it's about blitz, but i feel like it's directed at stella or her brother
generally a lot of fun stolas visuals that i won't get into here, but am excited to see more contexts for
also this isn't new, but im always interested in blitz's heart/broken-heart forehead marking
blitz and tilla moment! generally more flashbacks (in the shape of blitz seeming to be almost at the movies, watching his own "failures") around the time of the fire! i didn't see any barbie stuff, alas, but the rest of it looks !!! also lowkey confirmed it was cash who stopped blitz from seeing fizz in hospital
who's this?
another sin? maybe related to ozzie and/or stolas and that judgement of the kinds of people they love?
blitz protecting stolas - maybe from the above, considering the hand motif of it all... stolas really living the life of blitz as a romantic hero, while blitz is barely holding it together as a person the whole time. different genres, my guys. different genres (that's their real communication issue)
this fuck-you-blitz cake looks like a verosika thing to do, esp considering it's her calling him shitty in the VO -- but yay, maybe giving that verosika catharsis, but also generally just verosika!
also the VO part where he says he doesn't want to be this way, he's wearing the same shroud as during his confrontation with verosika. idk, im just. contexts for things. i am curious
is the below also the same episode? I'd think so. it's set during halloween (?) and blitz is then maybe in the blood-covered shroud (costume? undercover? going undercover as a ghost? post-breakup stalking undercover ghost costume?)
MAMMON! and he looks pleased. oh dear.
this blitz + fizz moment
it kinda looks like blitz is wearing the same tee as when he and stolas have their moment + a horse bag + fizz casual wear. fizz generally in this trailer seems to be having the best time (outside the flashbacks). everything makes me suspicious all the time
(also generally hello all the different outfits coming up!!)
fascinated by this:
is that millie?
things we didn't see:
no barbie, no striker, no crimson, no asmodeus (directly, although his imagery is everywhere + fizz and mammon appear), no paimon -- this not to say none of them will show up, but am enjoying that a lot of this is clearly pulling from s1, with the focus on verosika, DHORKS, and CHERUB -- potentially a lot of the s2 villains need some time to lick their wounds a bit (and paimon was never a Villain, just a terrible parent... if he ever returns though...)
and barbie... i do want to see barbie again soonish ngl, she needs some proper introducing, but this is already giving so much callback and continuation of immediate plot-threads, very excited
#helluva boss#verosika mayday#blitzø#blitz#stolas#blitzo#helluva millie#helluva moxxie#helluva loona#DHORKS#CHERUB#helluva mammon#fizzarolli#stolitz
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You made your choice
Gojo x fem!reader
Part 2
Previous part
Word count: 2.4K
Summary: you asked Gojo who is more important to him, you or his bestfriend. He indirectly chose and now he's experiencing consequences of his own action (probably for the first time in his life).
Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort
Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @nanao4k
A/N: I recomend listening to this song while reading (was listening to it while coming up with the story, the song and the story aren't exact copies of eachother but the vibe is about the same) and to those who know me THE LINK IS SAFE TO CLICK I DIDN'T LINK IT WITH WHAT YOU THINK I SWEAR. Enjoy the reading 😊
"Hey, can I come over?"
"Dude, you were just here!"
"I know, I know. But I need a shoulder to cry on."
"Damn, that bad? What happened? You and Y/N had a fight or...?"
"Can I just come over?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll leave the door unlocked."
Geto Suguru has had a lot of weird moments with his best friend, but that phone call certainly was...something. No explanation, no joking around, just straight to the point.
About fifteen minutes later he heard his front door open.
"Satoru, did you learn how to teleport or something? We live an hour away from eachother," Geto joked before he could even turn around and see the state his friend was in. Disheveled hair, dry lips, red eyes. Something terrible must've happened.
"It's Y/N," was all Gojo said before he sat down at the dining table.
"Figured that much," replied Geto and took a seat next to him and waited. He knew Gojo. That man can't shut his mouth to save his own life. He'll spill everything sooner or later.
Gojo let his head fall on top of Geto's and sighed. Geto patted his fluffy white hair and kept on waiting. Good thing was they both sat right across a big window. Geto could count pine cones on the nearby trees while he waited for Gojo to open up.
It didn't take long.
"Y/N left."
"WHAT?!" Geto pushed the white head off of his shoulder and took Gojo by the shoulders. "What happened? What did you do?" He stared him in the eye.
Gojo just blinked. "I don't know! I don't think I did anything wrong," he looked oit the window again. A squirell jumped from one branch to another.
Geto rolled his eyes and turned Gojo's face back to his. "Satoru, people don't just up and leave. You must've done or said something that hurt her feelings. What did I tell you about comunication being-"
"Being the cornerstone of a good relationship, I remember," he put his hands on Geto's cupping his face. "We did talk. And I thought we came to a mutual understanding. Then I offered to cuddle with her and went to shower but once I walked out she was gone. All her things too..."
"Wow," Geto let go of his friend's face, "what a bitch."
"Right?" Gojo agreed and leaned back on his chair so far it was threatening to fall. "I don't understand. She never complained before, never said anything, then all of a sudden she pulls a stunt like that, throws a scene, slips into her selfhating thing again-"
"Wait, she what?" Geto asked confused. He has met you enough times to know you were very cheerful and life-loving person. What was Gojo talking about? Selfhatred?
"She has these moments,"he explained, "thinks she's too fat, then not curvy enough, thinks she's too basic to be with a guy like me, so on. When it happened the first few times i comforted her but even after all those years she still thinks of herself as less than and I'm too damn tired of it. I thought all of those negative thoughts would go away the first time I assured her I love her no matter what," he crossed his arms on his chest and looked out the window again. "I'm starting to feel like she's doing it for attention."
"Listen Satoru, maybe she's just extremely selfconscious and people like her need reassurance like that. Besides if she was really doing that for attention she wouldn't leave withoit a word. She would leave hints for you to find her and come beg her on your knees or something."
Gojo chuckled. "Suguru, you've got to stop watching Shoko's telenovelas."
"I'm a slut for drama."
A phone rang.
In a speed of light Gojo pulled out his phone hoping to see your lovely face. The screen was black.
Geto pulled out his ringing phone and picked up. "Well well, speak of the devil," he smiled.
Gojo couldn't hear what him and Shoko were talking about. He could only take hints from Geto's facial expressions and his occasional answers.
"What do you mean you have to cancel it? Oh. Okay. I understand. And did she tell you what-" his eyes got wide. "But wait, that's not- I didn't- Actually he's right next to me."
Gojo tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about but Geto jumped up and walked across the room.
"Okay. Okay, i'll ask him. No, that's fine. Alright. Take care, both of you. Bye," he hung up. Then slowly turned around to face Gojo now standing opposite him.
"Now you'll tell me exactly what had happened between you two. You said she caused a scene, what was it about?"
His mouth turned into neutral line, just like when you started this whole mess. "She asked me to stop seeing you. Can you believe that? Trust me, if I told her to stop seeing her friends all hell would break lose."
"Isn't that what happened when she asked you?" Geto pointed out the obvious double standard but Gojo wasn't listening.
"Didn't you hear what I just said? She wanted me to spend more time with her. Like, what does she want me to do? Make me and her morph into one being?"
"It is true that you've been spending a lot of time with me," Geto held his chin between his fingers in a thought. "But I don't get one thing. If you being away from her this often was a problem for her then she must've shown signs, not encourage you to come and spend time with me when she was too busy herself."
"About that," Gojo nervously played with his shades. "I might've over-exagarated that."
"Don't tell me..." Geto pinched the bridge of his nose.
"She wasn't always busy when I came here."
"Satoru!" He half shouted. "You always told me she was too busy and couldn't come! Why would you lie?"
"Because i felt trapped!" He yelled back. "I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Yes, being around has brought me so much joy but I missed the thrill of being free. Just being with you and Shoko and doing whatever. Now I just feel like I'm chained to something that I kinda want away from but also not," the entire time he spoke he was pacing back and forth. "I just wanted to feel like the old times."
"So in other words you miss the feeling of being single but you also like the benefits relationship gives you," Geto concluded. "I thought you were better than this."
"And I thought you would understand," Gojo turned his anger against his best friend who was calmly standing in the living room. "But wait, I forgot, you have no one," he mocked.
"Damn right I don't. Which makes me even more pissed off when I see how you treat your own relationship! Have you got any idea how much I envied you for having someone waiting for you at home and welcome you after a long day? Or just someone to be there for you in general?"
Gojo got silent. He didn't know. Geto never showed it.
Geto took it as his chance to try speak some sense into Gojo. "Listen, you only feel like this because you've never been in a relationship. Feeling trapped is normal, I think. What's important is that you love her and you're capable of changing to get her back, right?"
Gojo was just looking at him.
"Right?" Geto said a bit more panicked.
"I don't know!" Gojo exclaimed and Geto facepalmed. "I don't know how to choose between her and you."
"Is that what she asked? For you to choose between her and me?"
Gojo shook his head. "No, I think she just wanted me to spend less time with you."
"So she didn't out right prohibit you from hanging out with me, she only asked for you to stay with her more often," Geto was slowly but surely getting the whole picture.
"Something like that," Gojo shrugged.
Geto sighed. "You royally fucked up Gojo Satoru."
"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his words. "I still think I did nothing wrong. She has no right to aks me to spend less time with you."
"She does actually. She's your girlfriend of what, three years?"
Gojo nodded.
"Three years and yet you place her beneath a best friend. How would you feel like if she had to choose between her best friend and you and she went for the friend?"
Suddenly, Gojo looked like it finally hit him. "I'd feel...terrible," he sat down on the chair. "But... but I didn't tell her I would choose you. Both of you mean so much to me."
"On the same level or a different one? Satoru, understand that the love for a friend and a love for a lover are two separate kinds of love. You not being able to distinguish between them caused you to be in this mess."
Geto walked over to where Gojo sat and towere over him. He put a reassuring hand on his wide back. "Let me ask you this: what do you want right now? To be with her?"
Gojo stayed silent. He didn' know what he wanted. He hated the fact that he can't have both a friend and a lover. Choosing one would mean losing the other in Gojo's eyes. He can't afford that. Not when both of his most treasured people made him so happy.
Geto took his silence as a no. "You know what I think? You didn't want to have her. You just wanted others to see you have her."
His words cut like a knife. Why? Why do his loved ones have to be this cruel? He only looked up from the floor to his best friends almost black eyes. His own baby blues were watery. A lump took place in his throat. With a horror he realised how weak he feels. One half of him already packed her things and walked away, he can't let the other half do the same.
"Do you hate me now?" He whispered, affraid if he will speak any louder he would cry.
Geto took a while. Then shook his head. "No Satoru, just dissapointed."
Gojo nodded and looked back down to the floor.
Few minutes passed. None of them said anything. After Gojo was completely sure he won't fall apart he spoke up. "Do you think I can fix this?"
"Hmm," Geto hummed and pulled out a chair to sit opposite him. "Fixing means returning to its original state. I don't think things will go back to normal."
"But, I don't want to lose her. I know I don't!"
"Then you must set your priorities straight."
"But-" Gojo looked into Geto's eyes again. "That would mean I will loose you and that's equally as bad."
Geto shook his head. "You won't loose me. I'll still be here. You can still come over and we can still hang out. It just won't be like before."
"And that's what I don't want," Gojo mumbled and crossed his arms again while leaning into the backrest.
"Truthfully, if I had a girlfriend as amazing as Y/N I would spend a lot of time with her and not you."
Gojo swore he could feel his heart crack. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, "that it's only natural to pick your lover over your friends. Not always, of course, but often enough."
Geto lifted his head to see his friend pale as a ghost, his skintone could now rival with his hair. He immediatelly regreted what he said. "But as I said, even if that was the case, even if you chose her as your top priority, which you should've as a good boyfriend, then it wouldn't mean I would cease to exist. And if I get someone in the future and I do the same you won't cease to exist to me either. You are my best friend, Satoru," he placed a hand on Gojo's shoulder, "and no girl will ever change that."
Gojo's ocean blue eyes let some tears slipped. He realized that his best friend is right, as always. Geto will always be there. And sure, even after he gets busy in his own life and won't have time for Gojo and his antics anymore, that wouldn't mean they would change into strangers to one another.
Gojo quickly wiped his tears and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want tk fix this. I want to evolve this. I want her back. I want to learn to love her again. Properly this time."
"You sure about that?"
Gojo nodded.
"Even after she won't forgive you?"
"Why wouldn't she? She's smart. She will understand. Besides, how can you rehect the best man in the world?" He forced out a chuckle.
Geto shook his head. "Arrogant and full of yourself as always."
"Yeah, what can you do..."
Geto's phone buzzed again. But this time nkt from a phone call but a message. Geto took out his phone, gave it a short glance and put it back into his pocket.
"Was it Shoko?"
Geto shook his head. "Just my reminder. Me and Shoko planned to go see a movie."
"Oh, is that what you talked about canceling?"
Geto nodded. "Y/N knocked on her door and asked to stay a few days. From what Shoko told me she was a mess."
Gojo slumped forward on his chair and hid his face in his hands. "I never wanted any of this to happen."
Geto hummed. "Do you know what this is callled? Consequences. Hurts, doesn't it?"
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Well then in that case.
You can fic or Headcanons, may I request AlHaitham and Cyno with an s/o that like to dip their face into his chest. Listen man. When you saw those abs so CLEARLY. CYNO not wearing any shirt chest open like that UHMMM~ Let me stuffed my face into that 😩🤭
personal pillow
synopsis - how they react when their s/o likes to dip their face into their chest
includes - cyno, alhaitham
warnings - gn!reader, slight crack, fluff, wc - 508
a/n: couldn't decide between hcs or fic so a little mix of both!
cyno ★↷
��cyno wasn't exactly the most accustomed to relationships and things people would do as a couple and so he became rather confused when you would randomly dip your face into his chest (he's 5'3 so good luck if you're taller).
↪if he really thought about it, he did notice how he'd sometimes catch you staring at him and he'd always ask if something was wrong but you'd tell him everything was fine - so he never really questioned you apart from the first time you surprised him...
---✩
it was a rare day where both you and cyno had time to yourselves - he hadn't been called anywhere and you had the day off. so you took the initiative and take him to a spot in the forests that was suggested to you by tighnari, a beautiful area with nobody around. a small picnic was all it really was. but it was a small fleeting moment for both you and cyno to spend time together.
it was nice, you two passionately talked back and forth about a range of subjects and you laughed at his horrible dad jokes because you wanted to treasure this moment. although you couldn't help but pick up on the fact that your eyes would occasionally drift to his chest. i mean, who could blame you when cyno openly walked around shirtless every single day and no desert heat could be an excuse in the middle of sumeru or the forest.
'is something the matter' cyno asked, perhaps he also picked up on the fact you had been staring for a bit too long. you shook your head and dismissed any concerns but you quickly went back on your words as you promptly dipped your face into his chest without much of a warning. you could practically hear his heartbeat increase as he sat there with a rather shocked expression.
there was a while of silence before you lifted your head to a flustered cyno and you claimed that nothing was wrong now before continuing as if you didn't just bury your face into his open chest. cyno struggled a tad to fight the blush forming on his face and tried to distract himself by re-engaging your previous conversation with a few stutters here and there.
---✩
↪even though it caught him off guard many times, he wouldn't say he didn't enjoy it. there was something weirdly flattering to him that you would openly choose to dip your face into his chest - and in honesty, if he didn't like it he'd tell you or actually put a shirt on.
↪he'd let you dip your face into his chest practically anywhere if you wanted to, he understood he went away quite a bit of duty and so it was to make up for that.
↪he wouldn't really ask you why but if he did he most likely would just be met with a response along the lines of 'maybe if you put a shirt on you, it wouldn't be such a tempting offer' although he doubts you would stop if he did so.
alhaitham ★↷
↪alhaitham never really would've guessed you'd be the kind to resort to dipping your face in his chest. sure he'd seen you do a few dumb things but this really would blow his predictions about you and your actions out of the water.
↪maybe he should've picked up the signs - especially when he'd catch ypu staring - sooner so that the first time you ever did it, it wouldn't give him a shock as he didn't quite know how to react...
---✩
it had been a very long day for you, the akademiya had kept you running back and forth instead of allowing your job to be simple for a change. you were absolutely exhausted and your whole body was aching for a minute of rest that didn't even have the opportunity to arise until you made it to the front door of your lovers, and his blonde companion, home.
your eyes felt like they were drooping as you fumbled around in your bag to find the key, eventually you managed to push the door open. you immediately slumped your bag beside the door even though you knew alhaitham would complain later because it would 'be in the way', but how could he complain when you occupied his attention?
you sought out his attention immediately, all you wanted was to curl up next to him and bury your face into his chest - who could blame you really. he was home, you knew he was, the akademiya had granted him a rare day off and he made it very clear not to be disturbed but you didn't really care about that right now. alhaitham could be found in his room slouched against the couch's armrest with a book in hand. he barely had time to look up at you when you entered the room before you had crossed it entirely and pulled the book out of his hand, immediately face planting into his chest.
'and what do you thi-' he hadn't the chance to finish before you lifted your head slightly and pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing manner and then puttiing your head back into his chest. you heard and felt his chest lift and sink again as he let out a long drawn out sigh. he had a mind to push you off and comment on your behaviour but he couldn't even bring himself to nudge you off. sure it was unexpected but a part of him felt like he should expect the most random things from you and so the shock easily wore off.
he felt you nuzzle your way impossibly closer into his chest and he knew he had no chance of leaving anytime soon. the closest he had to moving was reaching for another book on the side table and begin reading again.
---✩
↪now that he knew of your little habit he could prepare himself mentally for your attacks. he didn't really mind but his one rule was for you not to dip your face into his chest in public, he was a rather important figure and he didn't need people seeing him indulge you in your habit.
↪no, kaveh did not count as public at home - he could get over it. alhaitham quickly learnt just to ignore you if you dipped your head into his chest and could just wait until you decided you had your fill.
↪he would always sight at you and question your behaviour but you knew if he really didn't like you doing it, he would easily push you off and scold you.
↪he asked you once why you liked to, and he regretted it immediately when you looked at him then his chest before looking him in the eyes and gesturing to his chest.
akutasoda's 1k event
#—stellaronhvnters.#↪♡akutasoda's 1k event ♡#x reader#x gender neutral reader#genshin x reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin x you#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin impact cyno#genshin cyno#cyno x reader#genshin impact alhaitham#genshin alhaitham#alhaitham x reader
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The wrong DNA test
( what if, Sheila wasn't really Jason's mother? The system is already corrupted, then what about the test?).
A huge brawl containing every rogue had started at the time of Halloween, causing the people from downtown to fled there home's as joker had clownized the whole neighborhood with his goon's.
Every bats had taken to groups to take out the three parts of Gotham's as the rogue's had started to make alliances, some had lasted quite long while had conflicts, and causing a big damage to Arkham asylum,
It didn't take long before they captured all of them, none of the bats questions as they observed Jason glowing green eyes starting to flick, they thought it was the pit again, growing wary of the cooperation, but Crime alley was involved and that mean business to Red hood's turf.
Catherine todd love her son as her own even if not biological, Jason knew that. But her thing with drugs couldn't make her stop.
Sometimes after that, they could hear Jason humming a tune,a nice melody from Damian's statement saying that Jason muttered to him “ lullaby” as Jason continued to read his book, maybe it could be from Catherine,
they knew how Jason's past with Catherine todd, his mom even if not related, Catherine loves her son like her own kid but her doing drugs and... overdosing couldn't be stop.
Maybe Jason just remembered his mother maybe reminiscing atleast something familiar...even if it was a bad time.
Jason had constantly have been hearing a woman's? Man's? Voice, singing him a lullaby...it soothing, like as if he known and loved this melody...and that's where the dreams kept coming, there was a person, giving him kisses, Talkin to him stories, singing him lullabies and soothing him, he could dream that he was actually a baby, a baby from a normal couple, well don't count the luxurious baby room.
Jason had took out a conspiracies why he was getting this dreams, ( he swears he's not becoming Tim) and voices, maybe like a misshapen memories from the pits of victims? No it's to peaceful for that, maybe magic? He already contacted Constantine but surely hang up after knowing who it was-
Just how is he getting this dreams? Unless it wasn't.... So he proved again his point, he started a DNA test, again but none had records...of Sheila being his biological mother...that was weird, last time he had a test was from the time as robin..and before his-
So he went to that hospital who had said where Sheila had given birth to him, and most of shock is that no one knows a mother giving birth named Sheila haywood but had a document of a baby, of one Jason jay nightingale, the most believing part was that it's the same day he was born in.
His mother, Daniel F. Nightingale was said to be trans as the doctor who help his mother safely delivered him, And saying that his mother loved him,
one Sheila Haywood had the constant trick to get him and taken him as his own, because his mother's family was a wealthy one they practically sold him to her.
Jason had thought that maybe his mother's family never wanted him to have a son with a man from Gotham's crime alley.
Meanwhile Danny had just been YEETED to the DC universe before the start of Batman's justice thing and had been adopted by a very wealthy fruit loops couple as there kid, so he stayed as the couples daughter even pretending, because he owed ghost writer a favor for the last time, and as DC universe exist so it's story, and one thing for sure the child he had to give birth in this universe has a very complicated fate,
he did the one night stand from his supposed friend Willis Todd? He had to befriend him as Dalia F. nightingale the supposed Wealthy daughter who fell in love with a peasant trope, and gotten pregnant making it a scandal, and reaching to his ‘parents’ circle and getting that drama.
But he never thought he would care for his child, his little jay, his ghost side would purr in delight when they held Jason, he was a very hard sucker especially from his pacifier or his breast, it's so weird being in a women body,
but the way his ‘parents’ sold his son to the women who was supposed to get his son killed and being revived by cheap parody ass of ectoplasm.
He went feral, he had an argument to his ‘parents’ but all fell deaf ears, he couldn't find his son in one of the hotels nearby where that BXtch was.
And that time was where his part of the script was fulfilled, ghost writer already took him, both sides of his, were angry.
He. will. get. his. baby. back.
#dcxdp#Danny phantom#dcxdp crossover#Mom!Danny#Batfam#Jason todd#portraits#When the bats find this they decided to help find Jason's Mom only to find out she went missing#his Jay Nightingale now#yes- im getting of topic#so lets just say that clockwork has also has some things involved with his#dcdp#batfam#and ghostwriter#so if this doesn't go to your timeline aus or smth or cannon idk what to say#when the bats found out about Jason's investigation to find his mother#they gladly help but after finding where jason's grandparents who sold him to Haywood#they meet with them#and the whole revealed was much more depressing because His mother died/missing/suicide#Ghost writer was the one who plan the...The death scene.#so jason is sad#and very much wants his momma#because thats how ghost parents shit is right?#yeah i dont think im educated enough#So the grandparents are like grieving for there son (yes they accepted his trans btw).#and let jason and the rest of the batfam in there manor/castle ( cause there seriously old money) and introduce jason to his mom's things#portraits of danny#telling stories of danny in his youth.#but they avoided the way he ‘died’ for ghost writers plot conveniences but they mention#green...like ectoplasm but they just called it green liquid.
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Does anyone else think that Tommy rehearsed what he wanted to say to Buck in the drive over to his loft?
Cause when Buck opens the door, Tommy seems a bit lost in thought to me. He's looking down at the floor. Telling himself that he's Tommy Kinard and he didn't do anything wrong but Eddie told him that something about Buck just seemed off lately and he feels bad because Buck loves the people in his life to the fucking extreme. He'd easily take a bullet for any of them, and he's even put himself in that position multiple times.
So, Tommy decides to stop by Buck's place before he has to go on shift because there's no way he can focus at work knowing Buck feels excluded.
And he has no idea what to say? "Sorry I stole your best friend and his son. I just wanted to feel a millisecond of that happiness you experience on the daily."
He expects to show up, apologize, and explain that he's not a threat and never would or could be.
And it's flowing. The conversation.
Tommy tells Buck that he just wanted to be part of that family atmosphere that the 118 have. Because that's the root of it, isn't it? To be around people who like you for exactly who you are? No expectations.
Tommy has never had that before.
Sure, the people at work include him, but it's a different type of inclusion. He doesn't know the names of their family members, he doesn't sit down with them for "family dinner" like Bobby does.
They are just coworkers. Nothing more.
But those four individuals that asked for his help that night?
They didn't hesitate once to save Bobby and his wife. No questions asked, no confirmation needed. All because someone didn't answer their phone.
Tommy can't help but feel a warm magnetism between them. A silent confirmation that, no matter what, they will always have each other's back at any given time.
And the people THEY love... they're included under that umbrella of certainty and that's where Tommy thinks he fucked up.
Because Buck is under everyone's umbrella.
So, he's honest. Tommy doesn't know how not to be. He tells Buck he was jealous of all those things, and maybe that played a part in how situations unfolded, but that was never directed at Buck.
And then...
Wait.
Buck tells Tommy that he asked for the tour because he wanted to get to know him. Tommy. Buck explains that this whole thing hasn't been him trying to win back his found family, but join them in including Tommy within their unit.
"... 'cause trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting."
That's the jump start to Tommy's brain.
His attention? His?
"My attention?"
All this time, Tommy has been making the first move in the name of camaraderie. He invited Eddie to the fight. He invited him to trivia night.
But Buck was just trying to simply get Tommy to fucking look at him.
And now, in Buck's apartment, listening to Buck rambling about how he's not as cool as Eddie and how he understands why Tommy would prefer to hang out with Eddie...
Tommy sees him.
He acts on that magnetism he's felt from Buck since that first night. He thought, after speaking with Eddie, that it was full of resentment, but now, as he presses their lips together, Tommy thinks that, maybe, this could be something.
And he's ready to try.
#i don't really know what this is?#i had a thought and now we're here#911 abc#911 fandom#evan buckley#bucktommy#tommy kinard#tevan#kinley#help me
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Unpopular opinion (maybe): Luke's ultimatum at the end of Season 3 inadvertently reinforced Jess's choices that stopped him from finishing high school in the first place.
Disclaimer: The intent here isn't to attack Luke for how he handled things. The overall effect of Luke's presence in Jess's life is undoubtedly positive and instrumental to where Jess ended up. Luke was put in an unfair position that he wasn't prepared for, he genuinely cared and tried his best with the knowledge he had, and it would have been well within his rights to say no to Liz to begin with or to Jess when he came back after the car accident.
From what Jess tells Rory in "Teach Me Tonight," it sounds like he never had much academic support from adults, which is of course why Rory's belief in him will end up meaning so much. Details about Jess's childhood that are revealed once Liz is around suggest that Jess didn't have trustworthy adults in his life and had to learn how to be self-sufficient early. Even though we as the audience can see that Luke is responsible and trustworthy through his own actions and his relationships with people who have known him for many years, Jess doesn't have the same history with him, and it can take a long, long time to unlearn those survival instincts. Additionally, Jess's Walmart manager, as gregarious and pro-corporate as he seems to be, doesn't appear to engage in the practice of pressuring introverts to socialize (which happened to Rory at Chilton) and allows Jess to do something constructive and work toward a tangible reward. Some people get these benefits from going to school, but Jess didn't. Then there's a layer of youthful hubris here because Jess really did seem to think that he could manage all of this and go to school just enough to graduate based on what he tells Rory in S3 E17, Luke in S3 E18, and the principal in S3 E19. With of all this information in mind, it's really not surprising that Jess would prioritize work above school. His logic is self-destructive but understandable, and his fatal flaw ends up being that he committed to more responsibilities than a person could reasonably handle. This isn't the standard media portrayal of ditching school.
Luke's approach to being Jess's guardian is fairly hands-off. After Luke's "laying down the law" talk in the first episode Jess is in, the only requirement we see enforced is that Jess has to work at the diner, which Jess complies with. Luke didn't know Jess was working at Walmart at all until Jess bought his car, he didn't know Jess was eventually working more than full-time hours, and he didn't know Jess was missing as much school as he was. (This last one suggests a significant oversight at the school, which is another story.) When the extent of Jess's work hours is brought to his attention and Lorelai speculates about what is going on, he tells Lorelai that there is no way Jess would skip school and doesn't investigate further. When he realizes Jess is working some days instead of going to school, he offers to pay Jess more at the diner (and later steals his car) to prevent him from working at Walmart (the place he worked before he had a car to earn the money to buy it???) but doesn't press him about what is really going on.
So after all of that, it turns out Jess didn't go to school enough to graduate. Luke does give Jess the option to stay in Stars Hollow and keep going to school, but I could never blame someone for not being able to have a rational conversation immediately after a stranger randomly shows up, claims paternity, and runs out. The emotional damage of that incident really can't be divorced from what happens here. Luke is of course also in crisis mode. Jess didn't graduate because he worked too much, so now he's in a position where his consequence is to keep doing what got him into trouble, only this time he doesn't have anyone looking after him. This isn't what Luke is intending, but his ultimatum basically reinforces Jess's mindset of prioritizing work (i.e. short-term financial security) above school and his reluctance to trust other people, and it reinforces Jess's family history (ironically not including Luke) of abandoning difficult situations (in this case, the aftermath of the fight with Dean) and relationships (in this case, Rory) instead of facing them. Jess ends up on his own with the money he had from work that he was saving for a different car, so he probably thinks it's a good thing he worked as much as he did, and he ends up without adult guidance or restrictions to help him sort all this out and repair the harm he caused. This could have turned out much more darkly than it did, and it's really a miracle that Jess got to where he was by the time he was 21.
When Jess is with Jimmy in California, he acknowledges that he's failed and doesn't know where to go from there. It probably isn't outlandish to think that Jess was earning more as a full-time forklift driver than what he is earning during Season 4. Factoring in the lower cost of living in Stars Hollow or somewhere nearby compared to New York, he probably could have been able earn a decent living if he stayed at Walmart (even if he wouldn't have been better off in the long run). That's probably why Luke's "I'm sorry I didn't think driving a forklift for the rest of your life was good enough for you" stung. It was likely a much better situation than whatever Jess is in mid-Season 4.
In late Season 4, Jess seems resigned to where he is. He doesn't complain or blame anyone else for his circumstances, even when Luke repeatedly mocks him in New York. (Even mid-Season 4, Jess doesn't express anger toward Luke about anything other than Luke stealing his car until Luke provokes him multiple times.) Maybe Jess was already thinking about writing a book or studying for a GED during Season 4, but his posture and mannerisms seem to suggest defeat more than anything else. At this point, Jess might not be envisioning anything other than what he has. It is only after Luke accepts Jess for who he is, and stops seeing him as a failed project, ("You are who you are. I cannot change that, and I'm going to stop trying.") that Jess really starts to move forward. Although Luke isn't even very positive in how he says this, it's still the sort of affirmation Jess always needed and maybe never received from a family member before. Then, he's honest with Luke about his emotions, he's receptive to Luke's advice, he expresses appreciation for what Luke did for him, he offers Luke a way to stay in contact, and he makes a commitment to pay him back even though Luke says he doesn't have to do so. He tries (and fails, for the time being) to make amends with Rory, and after all of these things happen, he progresses into the version of himself that returns in Season 6. Jess pursues a path that Luke doesn't quite understand but has accepted and is proud of (it's also a path that Rory does understand and is proud of, and both forms of support are so important).
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I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.
Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.
People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.
--
I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.
Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.
Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.
However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.
--
As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.
Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.
It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.
It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.
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MAGNETIC LOVE
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Raiden develops a crush on the waitress who works at Madam Bo's (fluff, Raiden being hopelessly in love, Kung Lao is the wingman??, I know this trope has been used a lot but this is my take on it, reader is fem!!)
ᯓ★
Being Earthrealm's champion can be exhausting sometimes, so he figured, what's better than to take a break at one of the places that reminds him when times were simpler.
However, the problem was that he didn't expect to end up spending half of his time at the restaurant staring at the waitress Madam Bo had hired just recently. He was staring so much that he lost track of time.
In defense, how could he not?
Your smile was intoxicating and your eyes were mesmerising.
The way you worked fast yet elegantly.
And how he would catch a whiff of your perfume when you walked past his table.
Everything about you was drawing him in and he hasn't even asked for your name yet nor did you even know anything about him.
Just as he spends another of his free days at the restaurant, technically just there to watch you work, he suddenly felt a hand pat him on the shoulder. He looked over his shoulder to see it was Kung Lao.
"So this is where you go to when you're not busy" He said as he took the chair beside him.
"How'd you know I was here?"
"It's not hard to track you down when you know so little places" He said, relaxing in his chair until he notises the plate of food on the table.
It was untouched and already growing cold. This peaked interest in him since he never does this. To be honest, who could say no to Madam Bo's food?
"Do you just come here everyday to waste food? What a customer you are" Kung Lao jokes and Raiden struggles to find the right words to say, but the second you stepped in frame, his eyes darted towards you which Kung Lao easily followed suit.
It didn't take long for him to understood what was happening.
"Oooohhh... I get it now. You have a crush on the waitress working here, huh?" He nudges him with a teasing smirk.
"Is it that obvious?" Raiden asks.
"Uh... yeah. Judging by how you looked at her just now, I'm pretty sure everybody knows" Kung Lao pointed out how his face seemed to light up the moment he looked at you.
Hearing him say that, Raiden couldn't help but steal a glimpse of you wiping a nearby table clean after disposing all the dirty plates into the sink. The way the strands of your hair fell from behind your ear and you quickly tucking it back in place made him swoon even more.
"You're doing it again...! Have you not said a thing to her? Not even a hello?" Kung Lao grabbed him by the shoulders to force him to focus on him.
Raiden simply shakes his head at his question.
"I've thought about it but I'm not sure if I want to disrupt her working hours"
"Well she doesn't work ALL the time. You can just wait for her to finish her shift. Wow, are you that in love that your brain stopped working?" Kung Lao said, poking him by the shoulder playfully.
"It's not as easy as it seems"
"That's just you" Just then, Kung Lao got up from the chair causing it to screech a bit against the wooden floor.
"Welp, I better get going. Unlike you, I managed to score myself a date with someone. Good luck" He said with a strong pat on the shoulder before leaving.
He had to admit, he could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest just considering the suggestion. As far as he knows, he's good at starting up a conversation with anyone, it's just he'll be doing it to you and the thought alone makes him nervous.
What if this wasn't the first time a customer tried to get with you? Considering how attractive he found you to be, you must have dealt with this situation a lot. So that means you've rejected a lot of people or...
Maybe you were already dating someone??
He gulps at the thought and tried to brush off the feeling by drinking his tea. Well he doesn't see a ring so you can't be married. No matching jewelleries or anything. So you can't be taken yet right?
All this overthinking was doing anything but help him. Maybe he'll just ask you... riggght after he's done boosting himself up.
By the time the sun was setting and that the sky has gone pinkish orange, you grabbed your bags from the locker after changing back into your casual clothes.
It was already an exhausting day, it's a relief you didn't have to deal with any rude customers.
Just as you left the restaurant, you were suddenly approached by a man. A customer actually. You recognised him easily since he always ordered the same thing.
"Hi" He greeted you with a smile and you couldn't help but smile back.
"Hello"
For an awkward moment, you two were just smiling at each other until he finally realised he was supposed to say something next.
"I'm Raiden"
"(Y/N)"
Another awkward silence drops upon you. You're starting to feel like he's not good at starting conversations.
"Did you want to talk to me about something?" You asked and he had to blink a couple of times to snap out of his head.
"Well uh... I just wanted to get to know you..."
"Oh?" You were surprised at his answer and he couldn't help but wonder if it was a good surprise or a bad surprise.
"I hope I don't come off as a creep"
"Ehh... well... to be fair you've been staring at me as I worked these days" You said as you awkwardly avoided his gaze and he swore he almost choked when he heard you.
So you knew all this time and you never did anything about it? Now it just makes him feel even more of a creep.
"But I asked and Madam Bo told me a lot about you, she says you're a good person and that you're very kind" You smiled at him and it eased his nerves a bit.
"What else did she say?"
"She also told me to make you stop coming to the restaurant because of how she's fed up with you not eating your food when it's hot but only when it's cold. She says its a disgrace to her cooking" You said and it made him chuckle softly.
"She said that?"
You nodded.
"Will I be blacklisted?" He asks and you pretended to reconsider the consequences but it also seemed like you were playing around with him.
"I guess you won't be... if you ask me out for dinner" You said and he felt his heart flutter for a second.
"Well then... do you happen to be free now?" He asks which had you grinning.
"Mm... I don't have plans tonight but it depends on where you're taking me"
"I know a good restaurant around the block. It'll be my treat, what do you say?" He said, his behaviour seeming to appear more layback and confident.
"How can I say no to free food?" You chuckled and it just made the smile on his face grew wider.
Days later, you would find yourself frequently taken on dates after your shift. Sometimes they were fun and sometimes they were romantic. Either way, it was perfect. You didn't think you'd fallen for the guy but you did. He was really everything Madam Bo said, except for the fact that he short circuits whenever he's flustered, which you easily found adorable.
All this effort and you two haven't even made it official yet.
On another working day, you stood by the desk as you accept the customers payment. Once you were done, you saw a couple more customers enter but one of them caught your eye immediately. You grabbed your pen and notebook to take their orders. As you approached their table, his eyes were focused on you straight away.
"Welcome to Madam Bo's, what would you like to eat?" You asked, trying to stay professional.
"I have to admit Raiden, this place is great!" His friend with the glasses spoke.
"You're just saying that because he promised you money if you agreed to come" The man with a blindfold (?) said .
"We'll just have the usual" Raiden said to you as the two went on bickering. You nodded and shoot him a playful smirk before delivering his order to the kitchen.
By the time their food was done and after you served it to them. You just went on doing your work but you couldn't help and turn your head every now and then to see him eating or chatting with his friends. Honestly you found it ironic how the tables have been turned. Now you were the creep watching him do his thing.
The second the sun setted, you grabbed your stuff and left the restaurant once you were finished with helping Madam Bo close it. However as you waited at the door for Raiden to pick you up for one of your dates, you didn't see him anywhere. Was he too busy with his friends that he forgot?
Feeling a bit disappointed but trying not to let it ruin your mood, you decided to head home. Though it took you only a few steps until you heard someone call out to you. With a knowing smile on your face, you turned to the other way to see Raiden running towards you, a hand hidden behind him as he was obviously holding a bouquet.
"Is that for me?" You nodded at the flowers and he seemed embarrassed that his surprise was already blown.
"Yeah... I had to run to the other side of town because the shop I usually buy from was out of stock" He handed it to you and you could see a clear view of the variety of flowers.
"Romantic" You smiled as you took it from him.
"I'm glad you like them... but I need to ask you something..." He said, his body language shifting from tired to serious. You look up at him with intrigue.
"I hope these past few days have been great for you but all these moments we've shared. I can't help but wonder if you feel like there's more to it" He said, his eyes never cutting contact with yours. You blush.
"Are you asking me if we're exclusive?" You said and your forwardness made his heart beat faster.
"Yes"
"Do you want it to be?"
"More than anything" His answer delivered without hesitation.
You stare at him... your lips soon forming a genuine smile.
"Then there's no point in denying it... we're official" You said. For a second he seemed to be frozen in time but you noticed how his eyes also sparkled with joy.
"Oh um... well... that was easier than I thought... does that mean you're still up for dinner?" He asks, trying to calm himself from how happy he was, he could feel his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much.
"Yes, but this time, I'll pay for us. My treat" You pat him on the chest before walking off and he could only chuckle as he quickly catches up to you.
You were definitely something...
#IMMA NUT#DO IT JIGGLE?#mk1#mk1 2023#mk1 raiden#mk1 x reader#mk1 x you#mk1 x y/n#mk1 raiden x reader#raiden x reader#raiden#raiden x you#raiden x y/n#raiden x reader fluff#mk1 fluff#x reader#fluff
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Arranged Marriage
(Part 01 / ?)
(Niko Omilana x f! reader)
Warnings : None
Summary : In order to be the grateful daughter, you have to comply with your father's request. But what is it?
"WHAT!?!!?", you stand up abruptly, question whether you had misheard the sentence.
"Y/n, you're gonna listen to your father, we're not going to argue over something as trivial as this". Your stepmum, Ryona, interjects rudely as she pulls a chair and sits down.
"TRIVIAL?", you exclaim.
Why did she care, you ask? Nope, I don't know either.
"Dad, why are you doing this? I mean give me a proper reason at least. You can't spring up a topic this serious and tell me to go with it." You try pleading with your dad, but he remains unfazed at your outburst.
"We've always wanted the best for you y/n. I've given you everything you wanted, done everything you asked me to. And when I tell you to say yes... You question me as your father?"
Your eyes drop to the floor. It was true. Your father was an amazing man and an even better parent. A sense of shame crawls through your spine as you realise just how much you owe him. He had done so much for you, yet you couldn't agree to one thing he had asked?
"Dad please, this is so stupid. I don't want to be married right now. I just started my career-", you reason.
"Making little videos isn't a fucking career, Y/n. Maybe you're pulling a few hundred dollars here and there, but that doesn't mean that this is a stable job. Do you even know how embarrassing it is to tell people that our daughter makes 'videos' on the internet. I mean even the phrasing of it is absolutely hysterical and shameful!" Ryona finishes her comment with a quick glance at her husband, motioning for him to speak.
"Y/n, please... ", Your dad looks at you with hopeful eyes. What you failed to notice was how that man's eyes filled up with tears as you sighed and started walking towards your room.
.
.
.
The following week was uncomfortable. Whenever you came down for breakfast, they'd stop talking. They'd drop whatever the hell the were doing and wander off somewhere else. I mean, you were used to Ryona pulling shit like this all the damn time, but not your dad.
He avoided you like the plague. This had gone to such an extent that the old man couldn't bear to be in the same room with you, avoiding your eyes everytime you tried to speak.
Perhaps it was how they treated you, or perhaps how that bizarre idea had implanted itself into your head. You weren't interested in anyone, and god forbid to say that you didn't have any personal goals to hit. You'd love to have a family, you'd love to have someone at home, just for the sake of it. You'd build the family you could never get as a child.
But how?
The were talking about marrying you off.
Or that's how you heard it.
Yeah, Definitely marrying you off.
But how does an option like that sound so much better than living in this hell hole.
Fucking hell.
It's been one month, that your dad and your stepmum have completely iced you out.
.
.
.
"I'll do it". You state, matter of factly, raising an eyebrow as your 'parents' turn towards you. They weren't gullible, they knew what you wanted to say.
"Y-you'll marry him? You'll marry Nikolas!", Your dad pulls you into a bone-crushing hug which you don't return. How could he be so happy at the thought of his wife sending their child away to a man they don't even know.
Well, they know him. You don't.
He's the son of your dad's bestfriend. Of course the know each other to an extent.
Whatever.
You had dug your own grave, might as well get it over with.
"But, I can't just say that I'll get married to him? He has to agree in order-".
"The boy has agreed a month ago. It was YOU who kept stalling the wedding. How long were you planning on doing this? Don't you see that we have an image to maintain? Now stop your wailing and mentally prepare yourself. You'll both get married in a week's time. I'm calling the Omilanas and confirming". Ryona makes herself very clear, making it painfully obvious that they were going to get you married forcefully if you didn't agree otherwise. Or else how could they manage a whole venue within such an acute time frame?
You nod weakly and head back upstairs, feeling defeated. Your future was written already, your yes meant NOTHING.
.
.
.
You've heard of him. He's big on YouTube, people in his comments often ask him to collab with you. You'd be lying if you said your comments said otherwise.
Oh how'd the internet would have an absolute field trip if they found out that their two favorite creators were about to me married.
Well....married for the sake of marrying.
Married for the sake of a title.
Married for the sake of your father.
You look at the dress and accessories you had picked out and sigh into your hands. It was happening.
Your wedding........... was tomorrow.
#betasquad#beta squad#betasquad x reader#beta squad x reader#niko omilana#niko omilana x reader#sharky#sharky x reader#chunkz#chunkz x reader#king kenny#king kenny x reader#aj shabeel#aj shabeel x reader#ukyt#uk#ajshabeel#uk youtubers#ajshabeel x reader#arranged marriage
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TPOH UPDATE THEORY
TPOH UPDATED AND YOU BETTER BELIEVE I HAVE THEORIES!!
So! Negative talking with the Butterfly definitely did something to him. Maybe he recognised their voice? Or he looked at him directly in their eyes? Some people have proposed the idea that Anxiety blinded Negative, and if that's the case, then I wonder how long the effect will last.
The Butterfly gave him a flashback to his human life, and I'm guessing its one that includes the Butterfly.
Its hard to make out, but we see a human hand extending out, and text that says "WAIT! Don't lea-" (I'm guessing 'don't leave') and "What do you say? We got a deal?"
What's even more interesting, is that RGB didn't get this flashback when he came into contact with the Butterfly. Only Negative did.
This tells us two major things:
The Butterfly used to be a human and they knew Human RGB
2. Negative has access to memories of their life that RGB doesn't
Starting with the first one, I think I'm beginning to figure out just what happened between Butterfly and RGB.
It all starts with this infamous page. The Butterfly gave RGB a schism, which caused him to get a flashback. In this flashback, he is in a backstage acting room (judging that there's one of those fancy mirrors with the lights on them in the background) and he looks very tired and angry. He then tells whoever he is talking to that he hates them.
I assume that this is RGB talking to whoever the Butterfly used to be.
In the lastest update, the flashback gives off similar vibes. RGB and The Butterfly make a deal, but there is also text ("Don't leave") that implies one of them is backing out of the deal. I'm not exactly sure who is who in this situation though.
Either way, RGB did something that really pissed off the Butterfly enough for them to still be mad at them in The Land of Make Believe.
My assumption is this:
As we know, RGB was an actor. So I'm guessing The Butterfly was either an actor, director, or any professional job that would give them the opportunity to meet RGB.
Just like the Butterfly is trying to partner with Negative in this scene, Human Butterfly had a partnership with Human RGB long ago. I'm not sure what it was, but I'm guessing it was related to acting. (It also could've been romantic. Or both. RGB already has like three partners, I wouldn't put it past him.) But the Butterfly messed something up so badly that is caused RGB to get mad and call off the partnership, which is the scene we see on the "I hate you" page. The Butterfly begged RGB to stay ("Wait! Don't leave.") but he didn't.
This may have led to consequences that ruined the Butterfly's career. Either way, they were so hurt by this that they still resent RGB to this day. I have no clue how The Butterfly made it to The Land of Make Believe, since I don't think they were a hero, but it was probably something to do with how RGB treated them.
So when The Butterfly asked Negative for a partnership again, not knowing who Negative was, he got a flashback.
The colours that come out of Negative's vents are Red and Yellow, Anger and Anxiety. Both emotions fit perfectly with this situation.
(Or I could be totally wrong. Since I don't know who's who, it could be the BUTTERFLY saying 'I hate you' and RGB saying 'Don't leave.' But I think the first version fits better with the overarching theory I have. So I'll assume RGB is saying 'I hate you' unless proven otherwise.)
Please let me know if anyone has anything to add to this theory! I think I'm really getting close to figuring this stuff out but there's still some stuff I'm confused on.
Onto the second thing!
I've already talked about this a lot in this theory, but I'd like the expand on it a bit. That theory is slightly outdated since now we know The Butterfly doesn't know who Negative is, but I think I was on the right track.
When RGB and Negative split, Negative took some of RGB's memories with him. (That, or whatever memories RGB sold to Time were given to Negative. I haven't decided yet but either way Negative has some of RGB's lost memories.)
Since RGB and Negative used to be a whole person as a human, parts of their personality in the flashbacks are influenced by both RGB and Negative.
More than that, we have visual identifiers as to which personality is being portrayed in these flashbacks!
When Human RGB's eyes are covered and we see his mouth, it's RGB's memory. Since his TV self has a mouth and no eyes. This means RGB is the one having the flashback and the memory has him displaying more 'RGB-esque' personality traits. Like, in this scene, sleeping on the job and being woken up by a colleague is definitely something I imagine RGB doing, but no so much Negative.
When Human RGB's mouth is covered and we see his eyes, it's Negative's memory. Since his TV self has an eye and no mouth. In this scene, he is displaying more 'Negative-esque' personality traits. He is being confrontational and cold, and straight up telling someone he hates them. That doesn't sound like something our resident coward RGB would do.
And to add to this, blue roses show up as this flashback happens. This memory belongs to Negative, but RGB is viewing it because of his schism. And as I've said before, his schisms/gaps are definitely related to Negative.
So when they split, their human memories and personality traits were split up between them.
I really hope I am right, because I LOVE this facial feature detail! The fact we never see his full face at once gives the impression of him not being 'complete' bc he's not! He's literally being split into two people, so his face was split accordingly. Genuinely a genius visual metaphor on Mod's part. And it really makes me wonder if we will see his full face if RGB and Negative ever fuse back together again.
It's something to keep in mind for the next flashback!
As for the lastest memory, I'm not sure if it's Negative or RGB's, since we don't see their face. It's a possibility it is either a shared memory or RGB's memory that Negative is viewing, which would explain why it messes up Negative so much. And why we see some of RGB's colour return to him.
And what on earth is happening to Negative here? At first I thought he was going to faint and allow RGB to return, but now I'm not sure. Yes he is disoriented, but I think he'll be sticking around for just a bit longer. The blue roses haven't popped yet, and they tend to do that when he leaves. And I'm hoping he'll get a little more screentime since they still need to escape the house and everything, but I won't jinx it.
And what's with the yellow root in his leg? Those roses are mysterious as fuck, and I wanna find out what they'll do to him. I am still trying to figure out wether Negative completely controls them, or if they kinda have a mind of their own. They could make him stronger or make him weaker. They could charge that static electricity again. They could do something to his gaps. Who knows! But I'll be back next Sunday to figure it out.
#tpoh#the property of hate#tpoh rgb#tpoh negative#rgb#tpoh negative rgb#negative rgb#tpoh theory#tpoh speculation#tpoh update#tpoh anxiety#that darned butterfly
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Can you help me to understand the tether between Alina and Aleksander? I've seen people say that it was formed when he collared her but if that's true then why not use it when she's on the run from him? I always thought that's why he got his nichevo'ya to wound her and why he thanked her, because it allowed that connection to form. Am I wrong here?
Okay, well, I'm still re-reading, but...
They're written as two halves of the same whole. They're supposed to be complimentary opposites, that's why Aleksander's waiting for the Sun Summoner instead of settling for just any immortal, why he believes they're meant to be even after encountering other immortals' different worldviews and Alina's refusal to accept her own greatness. She won't only live long, they're bound by the Making, so she's predisposed to ~understand~ (And there are moments, when she does. Only her upbringing, issues and moral police companions prevent her from embracing what's between them.).
The first clear sign of their interconnection's showed during Winter Fete, although from the wording, I've missed at least two earlier ones:
The moment his lips met mine, the connection between us opened and I felt his power flood through me. I could feel how much he wanted me—but behind that desire, I could feel something else, something that felt like anger.
I drew back, startled. “You don’t want to be doing this.”
“This is the only thing I want to be doing,” he growled, and I could hear the bitterness and desire all tangled up in his voice.
“And you hate that,” I said with a sudden flash of comprehension.
He sighed and leaned against me, brushing my hair back from my neck. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, his lips grazing my ear, my throat, my collarbone.
Shadow and Bone- Chapter 14
"... the connection between us ..." suggests it's something Alina figured out exists before this time, so she didn't experience it only once.
Then there's the Collar that gives Aleksander access to Alina's powers, although it's not exactly clear how it works.
I had spared the stag’s life. The power of that life belonged to me as surely as it belonged to the man who had taken it.
...
The Darkling looked momentarily confused. He narrowed his eyes, and I felt his will descend on me again, felt that invisible hand grasping. I shrugged it off. It was nothing. He was nothing.
Shadow and Bone- Chapter 19
Like: Sorry honey, either the power belongs to you both, or you have the upper hand.
I would kill for Aleksander's LOGICAL explanation.
The nichevo'ya bite deepened the Bond, that's why Sasha did it. My guess is it might be something about merzost affecting the Making, therefore the connection formed by it, AND the tiny little detail the creatures might be created with use of said force, but from his own being. He's basically running around donating his body fluids essence to his closest "enemies"... *wink wink*
We don't know more than what he tells Alina, so perhaps he could feel her presence before that. Perhaps Alina's youth and inexperience played bigger part in her use of their connection, than we think. Perhaps her many issues did. (I hate repeating this phrase, but THE WASTED POTENTIAL!) Why tell your stubbornly uncooperating soulmate you have an in-build compass to help you track them, if they left a trail of more profane kind?
#reply#Grishaverse#Darklina#The Tether#The Darkling#Alina Starkov#grishanalyticritical#S&B Chapter 14#S&B Chapter 19#books#quotes#Leigh Bardugo#He's a bit of a spiritual whore.#You've crossed me?#I'll punish you with black goo from my own soul!
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I was seeing videos of these specific heart-shaped "slip chains" which are basically bdsm leashes that can be lowkey disguised as necklaces and I started having ideas about "oh what if yandere Valentino put one of these on you and you didn't even know he has you wearing a leash" AND IN THE FUCKING COMMENTS OF THE VIDEO--
So yeah, could you imagine him slipping the loose chain around you while you're serving him drinks or invited for a fun time with him and other people and he's essentially getting off on you being clueless and unknowingly wearing something so kinky (that he has all kinds of ideas and fantasies about using). At first you think it's just a necklace, a cute gift, you aren't even aware of what it means and are just feeling happy and thinking it's so cute, and then, at some point in the night, he gets mad or possessive and just, tugs the lead and you're suddenly painfully horribly aware he's got you on a lead 😳 like. In Public In Front Of Other People, too.
I feel like yandere Valentino would have a full custom kit of toys and tools he WANTS to use on you before he's so much as even FLIRTED WITH YOU. Imagine actually going to fuck this man and he already has things planned, fantasies to try out, and, it turns out he's been thinking about sleeping with you, uh, a lot more in depth and often than you're comfortable with
I'm just. Sitting here. Imagining being mid fuck and little comments just start slipping out of his mouth,
"Hang on, I wanted to try this position with you--" wait how long have you been thinking of us having sex?
"You're a lot quieter than I was hoping you would be, but this is hot too" bitch what do you MEAN 'hoping'???
You fuck him ONCE and the next time he's trying to get you to let him hit, he has a SUSPICIOUS amount of lingerie that is perfectly in your size and bondage gear that's perfectly sized for your wrists and ankles and maybe shit is even PERSONALLY MONOGRAMED, like forget bullshit like "Baby" or "Pet" or something vague, it'll be YOUR NAME or a nickname he uses ONLY for you, so, he obviously had it MADE to be used on you specifically
Idk I'm just. I promise I'm normal and am not constantly thinking about what kinds of accessories and toys this man would have personally custom made because he just loves spoiling himself and playing with his money with reckless abandon 👀 I promise I'm not like, imagining Valentino having entire closets and rooms dedicated to YOU specifically. Gosh. Just imagine the gun case he has in episode four, except when he opens THIS one, the doors are covered with humiliating, exposing photos of you and all his crops and toys are displayed and loaded into drawers 💀 honestly just the hypothetical scenario of, you have never even kissed this man and you're in his tower and, you snoop a little while he's making you wait, and you find this cabinet absolutely COATED with photos of you, and there are also collars and other things with your name on them
also finally just 👀 the overall design of this chain means if he has it pulled taut enough, you literally can't pull it off by yourself, cant give yourself enough slack to unwind it, so you're just forced to sit there with your face feeling like it's on fire while he's actively holding the other end of your lead, constantly reminding the both of you that you're his new favorite little plaything and using the public humiliation to get you to behave. Honestly I think being forced into a one-sided dom/sub kinda relationship with him specifically is a brand new kind of Hell in of itself, but that's a post for another time
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languages, travel, identity, grief
Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.
I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.
That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.
I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.
And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.
I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.
And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.
But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.
There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!
And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.
So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.
You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.
I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.
It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.
And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.
It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.
Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.
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Inspired by this pic made by @infernally_fond
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When the devil asks if you want to play, you’re supposed to say no. It’s a lesson most people learn as children. Some don’t take it to heart. They say yes instead because the devil promises he will give them something they desperately want in return.
Tav says yes because she fancies him.
That’s alright. They aren’t playing a game of life or death, and her soul isn’t on the line; just her dignity, and she never had much of that to begin with. Only an idiot would agree to a game they don’t understand. Tav isn’t stupid (honest!) but Raphael’s easy smile and request for her company – mostly the smile, it’s a dangerous weapon put it away damn you – chased off all her answers that weren’t ‘yes, of course, I’d love to play Lanceboard with you!’ So now she sits in his room at Sharess’ Caress watching him watch her across the table as she bumbles and bullshits her moves, losing pieces and losing her mind, because she knows he knows she has no idea what she’s doing but he hasn’t said a damn word about it.
He chooses a piece. She watches his long, deft fingers carefully position it on the board. Lucky thing. “Your move,” he says, languid. Everything about him is relaxed, even his posture. He’s resting his cheek on his fist, elbow on the table. Awful manners; must’ve been raised in a barn. His dark eyes glint in a way that makes it obvious he’s enjoying her squirming, her buffoonery. His expression is cooking her from the inside: not-quite-placid, could be conceived as bored if not for the subtle smoulder, a quirk of mildly sadistic amusement. If he keeps staring at her like that, she fears she might do something foolish.
She blindly grabs her piece. She doesn’t know which it is; knows it’s hers from the colour and that’s about it. Smacks it onto a square that’s (probably) alright. Nods, leans back in her chair, pretends to be confident with her approach, her strategy. “There. Your turn.”
Raphael blinks lazily at her. At the board. “Inspired. Truly,” he drawls, making his next move. “By madness, but nonetheless.”
Tav purses her lips. She doesn’t miss the way his gaze flickers to them. “What is madness but a denial of reality? That’s what you said before, right?”
His mouth twists with a lopsided, barely-there smirk. He surely doesn’t miss her glances, either. “Indeed I did. And what reality are you denying at this moment, little mouse?”
Knowing how to play this bloody game, she thinks, wishing he’d challenged her to checkers instead. “Letting you win,” she responds. Round peg, square hole – put her piece here, steal the piece she jealously witnessed him fondle, strangle it in her fist for its crime. He chuckles; rich, deep, raspy.
“A daring manoeuvrer, and highly illegal.” Yet he does nothing to rectify her blatant ignorance. (Actually, devil, what’s illegal is that chuckle). He simply makes his next move. “You know, it’s usually customary for one to be aware of the stakes of a game before they play it.”
And this, Tav thinks in resignation, is why he’s let me trample all over the match like a drunken elephant. She never learns. Somewhere, Wyll is shaking his head in disappointment.
“You didn't tell me there were stakes,” she accuses; considers pouting but doubts that would work on this crafty creature. “I thought we were just playing for fun.”
“And we are, my dear friend,” Raphael coos, terribly entertained (bastard). “What’s more fun than the thrill of a daring wager?”
“The security of knowing I’m not going to lose my soul?”
Raphael’s grin stretches; sharpens. “Oh, but I thought you were going to beat me. Where has your confidence gone, all of a sudden?”
He’s wretched. Vile. Despicable. Tav is so attracted to him it’s ludicrous. “I’ll win,” she snaps, “and then maybe I’ll take your soul instead. I’ll put it in a little jar and keep it with my other shiny baubles and all the things Scratch dug up. How’s that for a wager?”
“Riveting. Inexperienced, as far as eternal torment goes, but it’s a start,” the devil praises, pleased when Tav scowls at him. “Though, as delectable as your soul would be, it isn’t quite what I had in mind.”
“What, then?”
“Hmm…” He makes a show of drumming his fingers on the table in thought. Large, lithe, well-groomed; she likes his hands. Often wonders what other kinds of magic they can do. (Look away, Tav! This is serious!) “How about, if I win, you tell me exactly why you agreed to this game. Why you abandoned the safety of your companions and entered my den alone. Why you were so eager to say yes. And don’t think about lying, little mouse. I’ll know if you do.”
Well, shit. Letting him eat her soul didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. One does not simply inform a devil that they like him – especially not this devil. He will use that knowledge, that power, for naught but nefarious purposes, manipulating her much more than he already does. The worst part is, Tav knows she’ll enjoy it. You’re well and truly fucked, mate, as Karlach would say.
Stomach in her shoes, Tav plucks up all the courage and stupidity she has left. “And if I win? What do I get?”
“That’s up to you,” Raphael says. He clearly thinks he has the upper hand. He’s right, but damn him anyway.
Fine, then. In for a penny and all that. “If I win, I want a kiss.”
She’s surprised him, she can tell. She’s surprised herself, scarcely believing she actually said that, but it’s out there now, in the open, lingering like a bad stink. She’s basically already given him the answer he wanted, but Tav isn’t under the illusion he didn’t know beforehand. The power, you see, comes from getting her to admit it aloud.
“A…kiss,” he repeats slowly.
“Yes.” She sticks to her guns despite her racing heart, sweaty palms, impending sense of doom. “From you, obviously.”
He considers it for a long moment, statuesque, giving almost nothing away. Tav does her best not to squirm out of her seat, pretends to be as aloof and unaffected as he is, to questionable success. The satisfaction glittering in Raphael’s dark eyes makes her grind her teeth. He’s toying with his food, as he is wont to do. Stretching out this moment until she’s at her most uncomfortable. Pulling her nerves taut. The split second before they break, he responds.
“Acceptable. Shall we continue, then?”
“Let’s.”
Tav expects a massacre. Tries to mentally prepare for him to pull the rug from beneath her feet, decimate her pathetic attempts, and then string her up by her metaphorical toes and bleed her for every pathetic confession and admission she can give while he gorges on her emotional turmoil (and masochistic delight). That isn’t what happens. Instead, she wins – in about as loose as the term can be used, but still.
“My, my!” Raphael exclaims, faking every bit of awe as he beholds the board, the claiming of his king, the crumbling of his miniature marble empire. “It seems my devilish wits weren’t enough to stop the might of the Hero of Baldur’s Gate. I’ve been bested. A villain, defeated. Quite the fitting end for this little tale. Don’t you agree?”
Tav sits in stunned silence. Of course he let her do this. She’s not completely delusional (yet), but the implications for why are taking their sweet time sinking into her holey grey matter.
“Ah, but I suppose the Hero wants what she’s owed,” the devil continues, sweeping his arms in a grand gesture. “Let it never be said that I am not a man of my word. Come then, Tav. Claim your prize.”
For a moment, Tav doesn’t move. In some ways this is worse than if he won. Raphael waits, a smirk teasing its way onto his face. He’s challenging her. Daring her. Come into my lair, said the spider to the fly. She’s already here, and she might be stupid, but she’s not a coward. Her knees only tremble slightly as she stands, makes her way to him.
He gets up, too.
He’s not much taller than her, but Tav feels like she’s approaching a mountain. The coals that have been simmering in her belly all evening catch flame. This close, the smell of him is overwhelming: cherries, smoke, fire. The heat he gives off can’t be anything but Infernal, despite his human guise. Anticipation sets her jaw, her throat dry. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking as he slowly, slowly, leans forward, dark eyes fixed on her mouth. His breath is hot as it fans across her face. Tav’s lips part unconsciously, eyelids closing. He’s but a whisper away, the silk of his sinful mouth a phantom against her own…
He kisses her cheek. The left one, high on her cheek bone, and though he’s completely composed, she can hear the brief huff of amusement leave his nose as he pulls away.
“There you are,” he says, jovial, almost business-like as she gapes at him, humiliated, flabbergasted, furious. “One kiss, its nature wholly unspecified, delivered as promised. I always deal fairly.”
This fucker’s trying not to laugh. Tav can see the tell-tale twitch of his lips (lips whose imprint burns on her cheek, entirely not where she wanted thank you very much) and the gleam of delight in his eye. Oh yes, he’s had fun with her today.
“Is something wrong?” He asks her innocently when she does nothing but glare at him.
“No,” she grits out.
“Good,” he purrs, unable to stop the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. “I’d hate to hear that you’re dissatisfied with your victory. I did my very best to acquiesce. As a little advice for the future, from one thrill-seeker to another: you might try being more specific with the terms of your wagers. After all, what’s that saying you mortals are so fond of? Ah, yes. The devil’s in the details. Keep that in mind for next time, hm? Ta-ta.”
A click of his fingers, a spark of hellish magic, and she’s standing in the middle of their rooms at the Elfsong tavern.
“Arsehole!”
From where he’s lounging on a sofa, Astarion lowers the book he’s reading enough to raise an eyebrow at Tav. “Who’s the arsehole, darling, and what have they done?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tav mutters. “Where’s Gale? I need to learn how to play lanceboard.”
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Hey, um… with the whole “Bluejay!Jason” concept… has anybody ever considered it as an Inkheart reference instead of just a play off his name?
Follow me here, and sorry in advance, this turned into a ramble.
In the second book of the Inkheart trilogy, Inkspell, one of the main protagonists adopts a Robin Hood-esque approach to defeating the tyrant king, and adopts the name of ‘The Bluejay’ from famous folk legends and songs written by a beloved poet and often sung by travelling minstrels. He’s -Inkspell spoilers ahead, though this book is unironically older than I am- known for toppling said tyrant’s throne through the binding of a magic book (a recurring theme throughout the series, if you’ve never read it, which you should). He’s a champion among the Motley Folk, who were that world’s equivalent to a travelling circus and also regularly aid him in his quest to topple the Adderhead (the tyrant king mentioned above), and sought to help the poor and downtrodden. The Bluejay is aided and abetted by his family and friends, which include a shapeshifting wife, a daughter with the ability to make anything she reads come true, a fire-dancer who can speak to the flames, and a knife-throwing 'circus' prince with a black bear companion. (They're not called the Motley Folk for no reason, people!)
Now, consider for a moment: Little Jason Todd, in the local library, absolutely devouring the Inkheart series. It's everything a little kid could dream of in a fantasy book! And there's three of these fat books, what more could you possibly want? And he has an excuse to sit in a warm, safe building for a few hours.
Now imagine, Inkspell becomes his comfort book. Of course it does- every kid had one, and I can't imagine an orphan who grew up alone on the streets of Gotham picking anything other than a story about a strange man helping the opressed and downtrodden in a land he grows to call his own with the help of his family- and The Bluejay is an excellent father to his daughter, too, of course Jason pictured himself as part of that family, as whisked away into that world.
And of course, the rest of the series is wonderful too -Inkheart is where it all began, after all, and Inkdeath is the final triumph over evil!-, but Inkspell is a story about becoming. About learning to be more than you were born as- after all, if Mo the simple bookbinder could become the hero The Bluejay, what could Jason the street orphan become?
Maybe, instead of discovering this book in a library, he found it in the trash. And maybe he wondered, as he read it, why anyone would ever want to throw away the tale of Mo the Blujay, of Meggie the Silvertongue, of Resa the brave swift, of Dustfinger the loyal Fire-Dancer? (And maybe the last one took a while to get there, but he did get there! Eventually! And maybe Jason can understand why it took Dustfinger so long to truly come to trust someone again, because trust is a terribly dangerous thing to give to someone, because you can never really know what they'll do with it.) Maybe he read it through without knowing anything about Capricorn or The Shadow or why they feared the man named Basta, because they hadn't thrown away the first book, only the second. Maybe he wept for the death of Dustfinger, at the very end, because he didn't know that Death wouldn't keep him, because they hadn't thrown away the third book.
Maybe Inkspell found its place among his most treasured possessions. Maybe, when he met Batman and Bruce Wayne in one night and his life changed forever, Inkspell came with him, with its familiar story and characters and world and sorrows.
Maybe one of the first things Bruce did, upon seeing Jason reading that same battered old paperback, was to order Inkheart and Inkdeath and leave them in his room. Maybe that was when Jason started to realize that he wasn't going to leave forever.
(Maybe Jason and Dick would play Motley Folk together, because Dick was in the circus and could most certainly throw knives, even if it gave Bruce a heart attack every time he saw it.)
And maybe, after he could no longer have Robin, he remembered that old paperback book, that old story and that old world, and he thought of a new name for himself.
Bluejay, he thought, as he picked up the book that had been his constant companion for so many years. I'll be The Bluejay.
(I don't really know what this is. I saw some Bluejay!Jason art the other day and just started thinking of the Inkheart trilogy and the fact that Jason would absolutely have read it and probably loved it. And then it spiralled.)
#dc#batman#batfamily#batfam#batman family#jason todd#robin jason todd#the red hood#red hood#Bluejay!Jason Todd#bruce wayne#good parent bruce wayne#well he's trying to be#trying to connect with his new son#dick grayson#nightwing#inkheart#inkspell#inkdeath#mortimer folchart#mo folchart#mo inheart#inkheart trilogy#bluejay inheart#I think that's everything#let me know if there's something else I should tag
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[ mess it up ― diluc ]
"how could I think that all that i gave you was enough? 'cause every time i get too close, i just go mess it up."
cw. gn!reader, angst, ex-lovers, mentions a minorly unhealthy relationship, diluc with trauma (canon event, i didn't do it to him), mentions of alcohol and drinking, light swearing, a lot of adelinde content! thinking over the breakup and having regrets
aquamarine's findings. repost from my old blog, this was sorta revenge for him being c6 but i love my husband i swear // mess it up, gracie abrams.
DILUC was a stubborn man with a tough shell, one that appeared to never be faltering no matter how many people tried. adelinde had spent countless evenings standing at the door to master diluc's office, a glass of grape juice in her tired hands as she tried so stubbornly to win the young master's heart back over; maybe he wasn't going to be this cold and sheltered for the entirety of his life, if only she tried a little bit harder.
the very cavalry captain of the knights of favonius - his own brother - had even tried endlessly, purposefully causing mischief around the dawn winery in an attempt to drag out that mischievous redhead child that diluc was storing away in the dark of his heart. despite kaeya's attempts, it was all futile and he'd be merely scolded by his brother.
sometimes even jean attempted to grasp the reins of an old friend, regardless of the turmoil left between the wine industry tycoon and the knights of favonius. he was once honoured among the knights, feared by their enemies and their youngest captain; what had happened so achingly? now all she can do is grimace at her own fruitless attempts at small talk in the streets of mondstadt, on days where the clouds blanket the sun. it's dull, dreary and the tired look in diluc's eyes couldn't have matched the weather anymore than they did.
in the stupidity of your own decisions, something you tried to excuse as mere young love, you too had make your move to try fix something that perhaps should stay broken. yet it worked, perhaps momentarily. he cracked, faint smiles etched onto his face whenever he'd see you. his calloused hands would stop wiping tankards with a damp cloth just to press a soft kiss to your head when you visited him at work, his focus no longer on the tavern or work for a few seconds.
on days where the sun hugged mondstadt, basking it in golden light that brought smiles out on every face in the city, you'd find diluc among the grapevines, his sleeves folded up to his elbows as he partakes in some hard labour around the winery; after all, he still cared enough to give his workers a day's rest to enjoy the sunshine. you'd join him, happily harvesting grapes in delicate grasps of your hand however diluc wouldn't fail to miss you popping the occasional one into your mouth with a cheeky grin.
regardless of the lingering touches and gentle, featherlight kisses, nothing could truly fix him, could it? for all you know, your attempts had been nothing more than another day, another week, another month for the redhead. the same redhead that you'd dedicated hours to - that you'd dedicated your heart to. what a fool, placing something so delicate into the hands of someone who didn't know how to take care of it.
diluc wishes he'd told you that sooner. he wishes the warnings had slipped from his chapped lips into the night air on the evening you'd confessed your feelings, that he didn't give an ounce of care for love. he was going to focus on the winery, the business - his father's legacy. perhaps it was the only thing he had left to grasp of him now that he'd settled in the post-mourning phase of his young adult life but that twinkle in your eyes, how could he say no?
grumbling to himself, he sips at the bitter liquid in his glass before slamming it down moments later. it's supposed to taste sweet, at least that's what kaeya insinuates every time he steals a bottle from the cellar. diluc never cared, he never drank. he couldn't stand wine yet he kept producing it like it was his lifeblood but here he was, ruby eyes boring into the dark red liquid that fills the winery's infamous glasses his mother had collected when he was still too young to remember.
adelinde lurks in the shadows, a frown adorning that pretty face all the other maids gushed over; she didn't look a day over her age, still as youthful as ever as if she hadn't watched the young masters grow up into grown men with differing personalities nonetheless. a soft sigh escapes her lips, her hands clasped in front of her neatly pressed apron as she makes her presence known.
"i thought i'd never see you drink wine." she comments, her eyes drinking in the way diluc's body tenses in the orange glow of the candle on his desk. his gaze lifts to her, softening ever so slightly when he sees the maid. he feels vulnerable - no, he is vulnerable. nothing will bring back the relationship he'd thrown out so effortlessly like paper in the breeze and that bites at him, tears at his flesh while he's still conscious. the thought makes his body ache more.
"first time for everything," his voice is hoarse as he replies, gruff as he leans back into the plush velvet of his desk chair. that familiar black coat with the fur trim hangs over the back of it and adelinde sighs again, "it's late, why haven't you retired for the night?"
he's sober, adelinde notes as she steps further into his office, her lithe hands lifting the bottle of wine he'd been drinking from to admire the label she'd seen no ends of times throughout her life. diluc watches without another word. he realises how absurd it must seem for him to be drinking the wine, so out of character it would probably turn his father in his grave but it drowned out the pain or at least, it dulled it for a while.
"you know i've never retired while you're still awake," adelinde retorts as she places the wine bottle back down on his desk. the thud draws diluc to his senses and he clears his throat, pulling his large hand away from the glass as he seats himself upright, "you're still thinking about them?"
"do you think... they'd let me back in, adelinde?" he asks in his moment of vulnerability, his rough fingertips tracing over the rings that decorate his fingers. adelinde's lips pull into a tight line, "if i pulled myself together and let them see it happen... do you think they'd let it happen?"
adelinde knows the answer is no, she'd caught wind weeks ago that you'd moved on from the situation and was fixing your wounds in the aftermath of what had happened. she'd uttered it to diluc before but it appears he'd either had one glass too many or he'd chose to ignore it in a delusional hope to fix himself again.
"master diluc, you know-" she cuts herself off, her eyes sorrowful as she drinks in the way his lower lip trembles. his breath is shaking, vulnerable and she's reminded of the young boy who'd come running to her whenever master crepus scolded him for his mischievous antics.
"i fucked up, i know," he groans, a slight crack in his voice as his hands bunch into fists on the arms of his chair. adelinde makes a soft noise in response, "and now i just have to sit here, kicking myself with my gut in a knot while they're happier."
there's a silence that fills the office. wind creaks in the attic, adelinde realises she'll have to chase up the maintenance workers on fixing all the gaps and there's a subtle crackle of the flame burning on diluc's desk. she takes note of the dark circles under the young man's eyes, hollowing his pale face from the lack of sleep he'd been receiving since he cut things off with you.
at least, that's the story he told her - that he was the one to cut the ties holding the pair of you together. it wasn't the truth and diluc thinks he'll never utter the truth to anyone, a possibility as to why he'd stopped drinking wine the moment adelinde made herself known. he's a lightweight and he's self aware, the last thing he wants is to spill out the truth like a sobbing mess, tears staining his cheeks while his breath reeks of alcohol.
the truth was you'd been the one to finish things to protect yourself. your hands clasped around your breaking heart, trembling and shaking in a last ditch effort to stop things from collapsing completely. diluc couldn't love, not in your eyes. you'd tried so hard but you knew behind the acts of affection, he wasn't there. it was as if you was kissing a ghost, someone who lacked the will to be in that situation.
in the long term, it made you feel unloved. that's when you began to recognise that you was holding pieces of your shattering heart and desperately trying to piece it back together again, fumbling endlessly with your own heart all while you tried to force feed love into the winery owner - the one who undoubtedly was up until that point, your lover.
diluc doesn't blame you for your decision but he regrets it, every ounce of it. he considers that the whole relationship could have been avoided but at the same time, by the time you'd ended things, he'd began to crave your touch, your love, your kisses. he'd hear your voice when you wasn't even present. it happened too late however and now he pays the price, the heartbreak of his own regrets for not trying harder.
this truth he'd keep locked in his shallow heart, his lips pursed into a tight line as his eyes drag over the quill on his desk - yet again, another thing he doesn't dare bring into this conversation with the maid. he'd wrote you numerous letters, just begging to hear from you so that mayhaps his heart could rest a little.
he would tear every one of them up and only one of them was ever sent.
"diluc!" your voice chirps in his memory, your cotton shawl drifting in the infamous breeze of mondstadt as you stand upon the grass hill, clouds decorating the blue sky above your head. a smile graces your face, that specific one that he adored despite never mentioning it to you - a mistake on his behalf. your eyes crease with your smile, a gentle laugh reverberating from you, "hurry up!"
diluc finds himself trudging up the grassy slope to join you, his fateful beloved. his shoes find dips to keep his footing in the steepest parts, a calloused hand occasionally pressing to the sharp grass blades to stop him slipping. eventually, he joins you. he stands at your side, drinking in your face in sheer admiration before it dawns on him that this isn't his reality, not anymore.
the bedsheets are damp when he wakes, moonlight still filtering through the large ornate glass windows of his chambers. an exasperated breath escapes his lips, his tongue darting out to wet them as his head falls back onto the feather filled pillows. fiery red hair sprawls out beneath him, no longer tied up as tears sting at his eyes, threatening to spill in the vulnerable silence left in his wake.
every time he gets too close, mere inches from a promised happiness within his grasp, he just goes and messes it up, like always.
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#: recorded in the archives#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#diluc x reader#genshin diluc#genshin angst#genshin impact#genshin#diluc angst#genshin x reader
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