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miedvma · 6 months

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MEDDLE ABOUT

l. williamson x awfc!r

summary: jealous leah but she’s just a softie really

sharing hotel rooms with daan has always meant being up for anything she would come up with at half-past eleven at night, including painting her nails orange— and, of course, she’d have to paint yours too.

“yeah, for the netherlands!” danielle immediately reasons, her choice of colour still causing a disappointed frown on your face. “cause, you know, oranje leeuwinnen—”

you scoff. “i know, daan! it’s just.. orange is, uh, too much, no? plus, we’re like mid-season now— we should paint it red, for arsenal.”

danielle’s speech is followed by her expressing nothing but displeasure towards your suggestion, arguing that she’s constantly repressed by both her girlfriend beth and your girlfriend leah’s patriotism, insisting that you should stand by your roomie and best friend, getting your nails painted orange to rebel against the proud englishwomen’s system.

there is very little to discuss: dedonk can be particularly persuasive when she wants to win an argument, and so you find yourself with no other option than to settle your hands over her crossed legs and hope that neon bright orange suits you.

—

“hi love” leah peeps as she places a lovingly peck on the side of your neck, sitting down next to you for breakfast.

despite your strict no pda at work rule, the defender can’t really bring herself to be any less affectionate towards the girl she loves the most— and you eventually gave in on that once mutual agreement.

“hi love” you mock her tone, earning a roll of eyes and a shoulder nudge. “hi babe.” you quickly correct yourself, a satisfied smile taking place on your girlfriend’s lips.

as the defender devours her characteristic ham sandwich, her curious sparkly eyes watch closely as you sink a silver spoon on your berries bowl— most noticeably, your hands; more accurately, the weird coloration your fingernails are washed in.

“did you get your nails done?” asks a pouty leah, instantly shoving you out of the conversation you’ve gotten in.

you leave viv and her remarks about the game you’re about to attend on hold and turn your girlfriend, “mmh, do you like them?”

she doesn’t seem to like it. in fact, leah hates it when you get your nails done by yourself and don’t do hers as well— but as this had never happened before, you don’t really have any way of knowing it.

“you got them done without me.” she pouts again, her voice bathing in gloom. “oh, i’m so sorry babes, i’ll get yours done soon as we get home, yeah?” you use your nose to caress her cheek, then her own nose, and then manage to place a millisecond long kiss to her lips— causing the blonde to run out of words, cheeks blushing at the sudden interaction.

nonetheless the flushed older girl’s emotions, it doesn’t take too long before she’s back at cherishing her thoughts on the game ahead of you, herself quite really excited to attend to her favourite london derby.

as the morning progresses and you finally step into the pitch, leah’s excitement seems to fade away. which is a little strange, since you are well aware that beating spurs is still one of her greatest pleasures— so it does turn out weird for her to start acting a bit off out of nowhere, right?

well, not exactly. unbeknownst to you, leah’s got a pretty good reason to keep her distance from you (or at least that’s what she tells herself)—

“leah come on, you’re warming up with me” beth chimed in, causing the other blonde to furrow her eyebrows. “thought you’d team up with daan?”

“yeah no she’s taking the piss cause i said her nails look weird” beth’s eyes rolled as the defender worked the situation out on her head.

unable to settle for the other girls’ silly argument, leah’s gaze perked around the pitch just until she could evidence danielle’s neon orange nail polish.

it hit her harder. you getting your nails done without her? bad. you getting your nails done without her, with daan instead? worse. way worse.

—

“i literally scored a winner and you’re not even going to gimme a kiss?” you pout to your girlfriend, the both of you about to head home in her still parked car.

leah isn’t one to play differently or give any less of herself to win, but as soon as the whistle blew, there was no way of hiding it: the green monster inside her hadn’t really gone away.

“there’s um.. people here,” your girlfriend replies, nonchalant. indeed, there are people around the parking lot— teammates and staffers, all of them knowing about your relationship. besides, it’s not like she had ever cared about being seen anyway.

“right.” you mock her tone, leah giving you a stern stare until she realizes she had done the exact same thing before.

leah drives surprisingly slow, contradicting her clenched jaw and bitten lips. her lack of physical and verbal interaction, particularly in such moments, is highly unusual— especially considering arsenal’s victory, largely because of you. it’s easy for you to sense her irritation, and that is why you don’t exchange any more words the whole way home.

as soon as your girlfriend pulls up to your house you swiftly jump out of the car, hastening your steps to leave the girl alone, hoping some time apart might heal whatever conflict she’s found herself in.

it doesn’t. long after you’ve completed your extended skincare routine (usually a joint activity but not a good idea at the minute) and changed into comfortable clothes (opting not to wear leah’s, just in case), the house remains terribly silent.

your bed is empty when you leave the ensuite bathroom. the corridors are silent, and a peek into the guest bedroom reveals it to be just as empty. stepping into the dining room, you finally spot leah’s still-intact ponytail.

her head hangs down, probably slouched on the sofa; the tv is off, hinting that she’s mindlessly scrolling on her phone. you allow yourself to swallow your pride and prepare sandwiches for both of you before walking towards her.

as you hand her a plate, a mumbled “thank you” is all you get— her eyes still avoid meeting yours, or even your hand.

your girlfriend lets out a sigh before picking up the telly remote and switching on some rubbish reality show in an attempt to dispel the palpable silence— prudent, but ultimately ineffective.

“is something wrong?” you ask, your voice soft as always. leah usually finds your natural tone charming, but this evening even that doesn’t seem to be enough for her to open up about her troubled emotions.

she replies with a simple “nah,” but the distance between you speaks volumes to the contrary: even though the sofa can easily accommodate up to five people, your girlfriend always ensures there’s not a single atom between the two of you.

frustrated by the girl’s nonchalance, you decide to test how far her grumpiness can go. you remove both your plates and place them on the coffee table, hoping she’d take the hint— but she doesn’t. not at all.

the blonde remains in her original position, spread out on the sofa, elbow on the armrest, supporting her head against her fist, eyes glued to the screen, oblivious to your approach.

it is normally up to her to initiate closeness, drawing you in or melding you both together— so the fact that you’re moving closer on your own should prompt her to react, but nothing really happens, so you audibly huff as you stand up to leave the room in nothing but defeat.

“you’re sleeping on that sofa tonight.”

her head shoots up to look at you in disbelief. “no i’m not!”

“oh yes, you are.”

the blonde’s eyes roll back almost instinctively, and you shoot her a sharp look. “hey, no fair! you get other girl’s nails done, and i’m the one who’s supposed to sleep on the sofa?” her voice sounds genuine, yet tinged with frustration— and here she is, leah, in her purest and most absolute form, feeling nothing but betrayed by not having her nails done by her girlfriend.

“oh my god lee, is that why you’re all grumpy?” leah’s eyes dart around the walls, as if pretending you hadn’t just guessed it right. “danielle is my friend, our friend, you know that..” you chuckle, settling down next to her again.

“i know but— it’s our thing! and i mean, you’re pretty and all but that orange is just not it.” the defender glances at you with that one nonchalant expression that always reveals her disappointment, and you can only look back in amusement. how could you ever tire of how adorable she sounds when she’s jealous?

“just so you know, i’m really offended by you saying i don’t suit orange. and i do forgive you for being an asshole today.”

leah folds her arms, her look at you not good— but you had guessed earlier that calling her an asshole might irk her more (she kind of deserves it anyway). “you should be the one apologizing for breaking our rules!” the blonde hisses, though she couldn’t seem more harmless.

either way, you’re never willing to argue with your loving girlfriend. especially when you’re seeking a reward for your hard work after a tough game.

“okay, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry i let danielle do my nails, and i’m sorry i did hers. can i get a kiss now?”

a wide smile brightens the older girl’s face as her hand reaches for your hip, guiding you to lie down on the sofa with her on top of you. as she leans in and you blindly reach for her shoulders, a breathy laugh tickles your face, causing your eyes to widen.

“soon as you take that ugly-ass colour off your pretty nails, babe,” the blonde suggests, thinking she’s hilarious as she pulls herself off the mess she’s already made of you.

you scowl and toss a pillow her way, but she simply shrugs it off, fixed on watching the trashiest show imaginable.

realizing you won’t get any favours from her unless you get rid of the questionable colour on your nails, you rise from the sofa and set off to find some nail polish remover. “want me to bring the red one so i can do yours?”

you spot a smirk forming on the lips of the girl lazily lounging on the sofa. “no need love, gonna save my hands for other kinds of activities now.”

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #awfc #engwnt

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lagomoz · 8 months

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Everyone so far seems to be theorizing Amane’s victim as her dad, her mom, or an unnamed child also in the cult. I’ve got my own theory - it was Gozake.

That’s Gozake, from Magic. The blue guy. He’s one of the four main figureheads of the cult, and possibly a music teacher of some kind to Amane, conducting her to sing in Magic. The very first shot of The Purge March is Amane playing the drums.

The mindscape Amane’s wield flags representing the four cult leaders (teachers? elders? propaganda peddlers? high up members? whatever, important cult people), but Gozake’s flag in particular is given special attention.

Same color scheme, same three dots over a narrow rectangle like design, same ear thingy to the side, same orb-like design features - that’s Gozake. Before we see it flying though, we see it crumpled up on the floor by Amane’s feet, something not true for any other flag.

We then see an Amane messing up her flag routine, dropping Gozake’s flag in particular and falling over. The other Amane looms over her, preparing to punish her for a failure related to Gozake. Once the punishment starts, rain pours down.

Then, the punished Amane begins to drown. You can even see the flag while she’s sinking.

She drowns further, and we get another shot of just the flag, lying on the ground, and then the drowning Amane reaching up towards it. She’s reaching toward Gozake, the one responsible for drowning her.

And he is the one drowning her. We see it directly in Magic.

It cuts to the real world, with Amane actually being drowned, and her placed below the one drowning her like she is placed below the flag.

Take note of the framing, with one hand stretching from out of frame.

I can’t find a better picture for her undercover card, but her location shows a bathroom. Undercover also has a shot of a victim lying on a blue tiled floor (we can’t see the floor, but the shower in Purge March has blue and green wall tiles) with water coming down. Blue and water are representations of Gozake (Amane’s character color is aqua), and it’s framed as a single hand stretching out while the rest is (mostly) obscured, and takes place in the bathroom (or at least a bathroom) that Amane was drowned by Gozake in.

Throughout the MV, there’s a lot of blue, too. Amane’s school uniform is blue, the cloth she heals the cat with is blue (the cloth later becomes bloody, another thing representing Gozake being damaged), the sky and general background and lighting is blue. Symbols of Gozake are present everywhere in the MV.

The suit man with the briefcase could be Gozake, I’m not sure. Gozake would fit the profile - a cult member, adult male, disapproving of medicine, willing to put Amane in harm’s way - but I don’t have further evidence.

Before Amane goes all in on the cult’s doctrine, she has an umbrella, but it’s unopened. The baton she uses to kill and to represent her as fully converted and the opening umbrella are overlayed.

The lyrics show her motivation for the murder, as both a means of protection and revenge. She’s been horrifically abused for years, and has taken on the role of the punisher to avoid being the punished.

“It’s my turn to tear you apart / So there is no second time, I’ll give back the judgment that you gave to me / It’s now your turn to say that hopeless “I’m sorry” / You’re sorry? I don’t care! / Please, go ahead and die already / Remember MY cries, MY repents, MY words of “I’m sorry” that I said to you?”

Beyond showing a lot of resentment and disdain for the one she’s speaking to - her victim - the phrasing clearly shows that she’s not just punishing a sinner, she’s turning the tables. She’s returning the favor to someone who’s been violent to her in the past.

The umbrella is symbolically her murder weapon and what she uses to punish others, but also literally and obviously a tool to protect from the rain. What she uses to kill is what protects her from Gozake. She can’t take the abuse anymore and tries to become the cult sanctioned violent avenger that’s hurt her so many times. She can’t be the victim if she’s the perpetrator.

The final shot has her over the corpse, having tracked in water from the rain. The puddles lead right to it and the framing is the same as both the Undercover victim and the one drowning her - a single hand, reaching from out of frame.

Amane killed Gozake.

#illia original #milgram #the milgram project #momose amane #amane momose #gozake #the purge march #magic #theory #meta

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butch-reidentified · 4 months

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as you can see, reblogs and replies are now turned off for this mind-numbingly braindead post, but I couldn't resist sharing some of the batshit content in the notes.

typing in color so it's easier to tell my commentary apart from the screenshots

radfems are insane because... we think "all women matter" doesn't include males. incredible insight. I also love "leave my sisters alone. and leave me and my brothers alone, fuckers," as if that's the direction the harassment is typically occuring in. as if radfems are hunting trans people for sport simply by not believing in or supporting the gender construct. yes. we are clearly the insane party here.

more evidence we're the insane ones, as this person claims men aren't an oppressor class and that somehow believing that they are will lead to... believing butch lesbians are an oppressor 💀 this is your brain on gender - completely unable to even consider sex, only "masc presentation," which is how they come to the batshit conclusion that acknowledging men are an oppressor class will ultimately come to include butch lesbians.

... girl. what.

however........ there's one reblog that really stands above all others. It is so long and so unhinged that it surpasses tumblr's image cap, so I'm going to have to do a part 2 of this post. but here's a sneak peek:

Gender worshippers learn what gender essentialism & bioessentialism actually mean challenge: impossible

Seriously. Y'all loooove redefining shit so much, but these terms were created for specific reasons and you can't just rewrite any word or term you want to suit your beliefs. Gender essentialism refers to the commonly held belief that gendered traits are biologically determined by sex rather than learned. The idea that women are "naturally" or "biologically" homemakers, more nurturing, less confrontational, and more emotional, that little girls "naturally" or "biologically" prefer dolls over toy trucks, that women "naturally" or "biologically" feel driven to have babies and there's no such thing as a happy childfree woman, that sex is inherently more emotional and meaningful for women, that men are more logical, better at STEM subjects, better drivers, that it's "natural" for men to cheat but not for women to, that men are "naturally" or "biologically" more aggressive, that paintball and Call of Duty are naturally "for boys," and a thousand other ridiculous things way too many people believe.

But oh shit, what's that? The people who really started fighting back against gender essentialism and arguing that gender is a social construct were... second wave feminists???!!! the very movement radical feminism is born from and shares most of its tenets with???!!! it's... it's almost like... radfems are the literal opposite of essentialists 😱

Meanwhile, today's trans community will tell gender-nonconforming people they're "eggs" and "totally going to come out as trans any day now" while simultaneously claiming not to define gender by stereotypes 🤡 like, OK...

check notes for Part 2!

#mine #tra reciepts #peak trans #trans activism #gender identity #gender ideology #radblr #radical feminism #misinformation #gender essentialism #bioessentialism

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partycatty · 4 months

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MK1 MEN ( any ) WITH A METALHEAD READER WHOS PERSONALITY IS EXTROVERTED AND SUPER SWEET ☹️☹️

syzoth, johnny, kenshi > metalhead

how kenshi, johnny, and syzoth react to a metalhead extroverted reader!!

(this is kinda short i'm sorry pookie bears :( )

notes: i am not well versed in metal culture/music so i did a lil research, if it's super inaccurate pls shoot me a message and humble me so i can correct it! i wrote the reader to have tats, and wears mostly black. saving the piercings for an upcoming post ;)

masterlist <3

♡

syzoth >

•"you're like me," he'll say when he first meets you properly back at the wu shi academy. "the marks on your skin... you are zaterran?" poor guy gets his hopes up that, after losing everything, maybe he wasn't completely alone.

•at first, you're confused on what he's talking about. you don't have scales or the like. but, looking down, you realize he's talking about your plethora of tattoos exposed by your uniform and you can't help but laugh.

•side note am i tweakin or does it look like he's saying "you're like me" in the gif? i know he's saying "to catch me" but look again.... get immersed...

•"i-i'm confused. earthrealmers get these done for fun?" syzoth asks as you pull up your sleeve. you two sit together in the dining hall, but the food is the last of your concern because this yummy little lizard is just so enamored with your appearance. as he trails a cold finger along the line work, you explain the significance of your tattoos, and you chuckle to yourself, joking about how most places won't hire you because of your appearance.

•you're usually clocked as intimidating or threatening by most people considering your appearance, but what they don't realize is that you're actually a sweetheart! syzoth, however, is one of the few who doesn't see you as intimidating. in fact, he sees himself in you.

•"i suppose we're both outsiders in our own way," syzoth replies with a little smile. when you two are alone later, he pulls his hood down and lets you follow his own tattoo as it snakes - literally - around his body. he feels comfortable enough to let you run your hands up and down his own tattoos. his head rests on your lap as you run a hand through his hair, occasionally placing feather-light touches around his tattooed eye.

•when you explain what it means to be a metalhead, it's clear that he doesn't fully understand right away. this is especially evident when he starts saying "your people" or "your village." poor thing thinks you're a subspecies of human or sumn 😭

•syzoth asks to hear "your people's music" when you two share a moment between training, and you turn to johnny and ask for his phone. he's the only one that brings that damn thing everywhere, others leave it in their rooms. you play "kickstart my heart" by mötley crüe, holding it up to syzoth's ear. he leans in with wide eyes.

•"this is incredible, (reader)!" syzoth exclaims with a grin. "show me more."

•when you two aren't training or apart, you're sharing everything about your interest as you wander the grounds together, and you find syzoth utterly fascinated with every aspect. he memorizes the artists, lyrics, and even asks for fashion advice. you guys get a tiny matching lizard tattoo! you converted him! ur a couple of metalhead besties :3

•when syzoth is snuck into earthrealm to attend a concert, he has to be careful not to alert any humans of his beastly presence. you dress this sweetheart up like a metalhead doll, complete with a vest, layered wrist bands, and baggy cargo pants. you take a step back and admire your work.

•"you clean up nice," you say, reaching up to run a hand through his exposed hair. "i could get used to this. all that's left is to grow that hair out... if that's even possible."

•he flushes, his cheeks twinging a light greenish color.

•"and don't blush like that when we're out there. you'll get too many stares."

•"i-i wasn't blushing—!"

•liar.

♡

johnny >

•i know we're talking about mk1, but we saw what bro's like in the future. he definitely covers the radio display and asks cassie to name the song.

•johnny's music taste is a comical mix of classic rock, metal, white girl pop, and songs to shake his ass to. so, imagine his wondrous excitement when you arrive at the wu shi academy wearing all black and a band tee that sends johnny straight back into his childhood. he's still gonna be a gatekeeper about it though.

•"no way you're a metallica fan. people these days wear their merch like it's nothin'! name three songs," johnny crosses his arms with a little smirk, totally thinking you were caught in his trap.

•"whiskey in the jar, sad but true, the unforgiven," you reply, mirroring his smug pose.

•his smile falters. "that doesn't count! those are all popular! three more."

•"disposable heroes, until it sleeps, battery, wherever i may roam, moth into flame, st. anger, motorbreath, no leaf clover, ride the li—" you're counting on your fingers, and running out quick.

•"OKAY. okay. i get it! just didn't expect you to be cultured and pretty." — "....thanks? wait, are you johnny cage?!"

•once you get over the whole "working alongside a martial arts action hero" thing, you find that johnny's actually quite sweet when he isn't being a pompous ass. he loves to jump in with references and lyrics the other men don't understand, but you're always quick to point it out and finish the lyric, doing the spiderman point meme. you guys practically jump up and down while holding hands like schoolgirls at times.

•the others are a little apprehensive about your demeanor. your makeup is dark, your hair is different, and your tattoos creep out from under your uniform. you look like you'd kick someone's ass if they looked at you wrong. this isn't entirely true! johnny has minimal shame or hesitation regardless, so you don't really faze him as much. if anything, he wants to sneak into those little brain folds of yours and get to know you more than as a fighter.

•you know when you select sareena with the johnny cage voice announcer and he goes "why are demons so hot?!" yeah. he thinks that way about you, too. bro is fawning over you constantly and you find it adorable. kung lao points out how much it looks like a sweet golden puppy following around a black cat. you looove dragging this dumb boy around the academy, as he wants nothing more but to bond with you over the one interest he knows you have. he's totally the "i want a hot goth gf!" type ass. AND YOURE NOT EVEN GOTH.

•finally, you two have a moment alone after all the craziness of outworld. you sat at the academy's nearby pond, one earbud in your ear and the other in johnny's. the cord of the headphones causes you two to bump shoulders, but johnny's hands remain on his lap as he fidgets anxiously.

•"...my dad was an asshole, but the one thing he gave me was good music taste," johnny finally says, breaking the silence with an uncharacteristically gentle tone. "i was a shithead kid. i probably still am. but the one thing that'll always clear my mind is a damn good song."

•you smile and nudge his shoulder playfully. he apologizes sheepishly for being too sappy.

•"i don't think you're a shithead.... and hey, when all of this is done, come to a concert with me," you reach down to his lap and grab his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "my treat. we can party hard and drink until we make out in the bathroom."

•"i couldn't ask you to do that," johnny protests, angling his body to face you which sends the earbud swinging out of his ear. "the — the 'my treat part.' it'd be on me. front row seats. backstage VIP. they'll let me in anywhere, hotshot! i'm a star!"

•"i love me a man that knows how to have a good time," you reply enthusiastically, kissing his cheek before standing up and walking off, putting the other earbud in your ear. "time for bed. see you later, cage. i'll be holding you to that!"

•johnny sits there like a little dumb idiot, a hand on his cheek as he processes what you did. why is he flustered? johnny cage never gets flustered! oh god he's flustered. you flustered him. oh no.

•"...WAIT, YOU WANT TO MAKE OUT WITH ME?"

♡

kenshi >

•now you guys are an unlikely duo! you're the kind of person to talk someone's ear off, and kenshi just so happens to be a great listener. the one thing he won't admit to you, though, is that he already knows all of the things you're info-dumping onto him. sweet boy just likes the sound of your voice :)

•you two wouldn't talk much before, but he found that after his blinding, your voice gave him great comfort. when you get trapped in shang tsung's dungeon-like laboratory, you sit beside him and talk about the history of metal in a soothing voice to take his mind off of the pain, leaning your head on his shoulder and his head atop yours.

•you later bring up his yakuza tattoos, a sensitive subject but he's willing to tackle it with you. you mention the beauty of them despite the nasty context. kenshi sighs deeply.

•"how i wish i paid more attention to yours. they're blurry lines with sento's vision."

•you take his hand and place it on your skin, his warm touch giving you goosebumps. you guide him to trail along each shape. you explain each one in great detail, discussing how, when and why you got them.

•kenshi doesn't really listen to music, so you're a little taken aback when he asks to hear some metal from your playlist. you show him eagerly, and his brows furrow in concentration as he taps his finger along to the beat.

•"i never had much appreciation for music, but i'm starting to see the beauty in it now," he'll mutter, facing you. something tells you he's not just talking about the music.

•you'll play your music to suppress the squelching and wincing sounds of kenshi as you take off his blindfold to wash it. you sit across from him with a wound care kit. when his wounds are still healing, he'll ask that you talk to him through the process to distract him of the pain. his hand instinctively squeezes your knee as he tries to hold back his gasps of pain. kenshi will interrupt you occasionally in a grumbly voice, asking the title or album of whatever's playing, one that you happily share.

•the hardest part of cleaning his wounds is removing the sticky, bloodied fabric from his eyes, so you'll sing playfully to the music as you do so, earning a chuckle from kenshi.

•"how do you stay so positive, when you're looking at something so ugly?" he'll mutter, a little ashamed. you pause your motion of dabbing his eyes of blood and put the gauze down. you place your hands on his shoulders, easing them up to his cheeks to not startle him with a sudden touch.

•"don't even start with that, takahashi," you'll warn him semi-playfully. "i hate to see you miserable. i'm just trying to help."

•"and you do an excellent job," he'll reply in a gentle tone, putting one hand atop yours. "i couldn't thank you enough. you and i... we're different from the others. you understand me."

•"you thank me enough by listening to me ramble," you teasingly reply, stroking his cheeks with your thumb. "never thought i'd find a friend here."

•"i didn't think i'd find a friend in you, (reader)," kenshi quips. "you looked so different from the others. i wish i could see every detail again."

•you two sit there in verbal silence for a moment, only able to hear your own heartbeat and the music thumping. kenshi's hand lifts to your own face, reciprocating your hold. his thumb toys with your bottom lip before he speaks.

•"perhaps, i could settle for feeling it instead."

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk1 #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi #syzoth x reader #syzoth

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cuubism · 9 months

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a selection of The Library's customers

One day Hob will get used to The Library's many strange happenings. Maybe. Or probably not.

Today, it's the fact that there's a customer.

Sort of.

The small child who's essentially appeared in Dream's study frowns up at him, hands on her hips. She looks to be about nine. She's wearing a school uniform. Where are her parents?

"This," she says to Dream, horribly affronted, "is not the school library."

"I imagine it did not have what you needed," Dream says. Utterly unbothered by a random child wandering into his shop, seemingly out of nowhere. Hob watches with astonishment from where he's sitting at Dream's desk with a cup of coffee, evidently not needed for this interaction. "What were you looking for?"

"Unicorns," she declares.

It seems odd to Hob that a primary school library wouldn't have any fantasy books with unicorns in them, but what does he know. Dream nods with utter seriousness. "Please wait a moment," he says, and disappears into the bowels of the shop.

"How'd you get in here?" Hob asks as the girl sits down primly in a chair.

"I used the door, silly," she says. Not the front door, surely. Hob definitely hadn't seen her come up the stairs into the study.

Then her eyes light up. "Can I have a scone?"

Hob had brought over a container of them from the cafe, and Dream's been picking at them all morning. Hob passes the kid the container. What the hell else is he supposed to do?

Fortunately, Dream returns before Hob has to figure out what his adult responsibility is as regards an unaccompanied child that probably should be in school right now. Dream hands the girl a stack of at least ten books of varying sizes, presumably about unicorns. The girl looks through them, scrunches her nose up, and asks, "D'you have anything more scientific?"

Dream considers. Then hands her a large, flat book that he definitely hadn't been carrying a moment ago. The girl sets it on the ground, kneeling before it, flipping through the pages. It seems to be made up of scientific diagrams and large, full-color images. Hob sees viscera, organs, bones-- then the girl closes the book again. The cover says, Unicorn Anatomy: Piece by Piece.

The little girl smiles up at him, sharp and pixie-like. "Thank you, Mister Dream," she says, incredibly polite for a child currently grinning madly over unicorn dissections.

Dream nods solemnly. "I hope it will serve you well in your endeavors."

She trots off back into the stacks, to whatever door (?) she came from, and Hob turns to Dream. "Do you often get random children here?"

"The Library finds its customers," Dream says placidly. "She will find her way back to her classroom, worry not."

"Figured that, somehow."

Dream sets the other unicorn books aside and takes up a scone in their place, nibbling on it as he perches on the edge of his desk, looking down at Hob. He seems amused by Hob's confusion. "Why do you have a front door if people don't use it?" Hob asks.

"You use it," Dream points out. Which... is unexpectedly touching. Unexpectedly special.

"Fair enough," he agrees, voice tight.

Dream's next customer comes bursting in through a side door as Hob is helping Dream stack some new books. He runs in so fast he has to catch himself against the desk, his business suit tattered and smoking, his hair... literally on fire. He rapidly pats it out.

"Please," he begs, as Dream just observes him calmly from where he's sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I need--"

"1983 Alternate History," Dream fills in. "Yes, I'm sure you do. One moment, please."

As he disappears into the stacks, the customer leans against the desk, panting for breath. Hob doesn't think offering a scone is going to help in this case. He's not sure what else would help, either.

Fortunately, Dream returns quickly, handing the shaking man an equally tattered grey book that is indeed titled, in a concerning handwritten scrawl, User's Guide to 1983 - Alternate Version. And, subtitled: FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY.

"Thanks," breathes the man, clutching the book to him. And with no more explanation than that, he runs back through the door he came from. Hob thinks he catches a glimpse of something very large and very on fire through the doorway, but the door swings closed too fast to tell for sure.

"They would do well to pass that around rather than returning it," Dream says, before sitting back down and returning to his book sorting.

Hob is naturally curious, but he thinks about all the fire and this time decides he doesn't want to know.

"...Hi?"

For once, Hob has successfully convinced Dream to stop working for a moment. Dream is, in fact, currently sitting on his lap, resting his head on Hob's shoulder in a half-doze as Hob regales him with a university story that's certainly crazy enough to fit in with any of the books in The Library. But Library customers don't follow a nine - to - five schedule, Hob's learned this well enough by now.

Dream does not seem embarrassed to have been caught in this position. He just stands fluidly, stretching his arms over his head. "Yes?"

The young person standing hesitantly in the middle of the room -- might be eighteen? twenty? once he crossed thirty Hob lost the ability to tell young adults' ages with any accuracy, they all seem like kids -- twists their hands together and says, "Could you help me find a book?"

Dream nods and waits for them to tell him which one.

The kid glances back and forth between the two of them nervously, like they think one or both of them might judge their selection. Hob tries to look non-threatening, even though it's hard to look more non-threatening when he's already half-sunk into the couch, wearing sweatpants, and was just caught cuddling his boyfriend in a semi-public space. He's also certain that whatever book this kid might be after, The Library definitely has something more concerning and more questionable.

Like Alternate 1983 History, for example.

Dream probably already knows what they're looking for, too, he always does.

Dream just tilts his head in beckoning and walks off into the stacks, his customer following behind, still wringing their hands.

Hob's fully expecting only Dream to come back, for his customer to disappear through another exit -- none of which Hob can ever find later. But they both come back through around ten minutes later, Dream carrying a book with a yellow cover. The study is close and cozy enough that Hob can make out the title -- Gender Queer -- as Dream passes it over, and oh, yeah, he gets it now. Granted, Hob himself has always been more of the type to punch people out whenever they give him any shit, but he understands the impulse, the need, sometimes, to hide.

The teen clutches yellow-covered book close to their chest. "You can take it home," Dream says when they make no move to leave.

They look down at the cover and then back up at Dream. "...I'm not sure I can," they say at length. "It's too, um. Obvious."

Dream just raises an eyebrow. "Is it?"

Hob swears he didn't look away, but as he follows the teen customer's gaze back down, the book has definitely changed. The cover is blue now, and it seems to be about maths, though it's hard to make out from far away. The kid flips through the pages, and they must be different from before for they look up at Dream in disbelief.

Dream, the fucker, just winks. Presses the book closed again, upon which the cover returns to yellow.

"Algebra is scintillating," he drawls, turning away and snatching up the container of scones from a side table -- a not-insignificant part of Hob's job, at this point, is just keeping Dream in scones -- "and suitable for any young person. Take a scone with you, too." He holds out the container. "Hob's are the best."

And with a tiny smile, the kid takes one.

#btw of ALL the books so far mentioned in this au Gender Queer is the ONLY one that's actually a real book XD #all the others are made up #conservatives in the US keep scapegoating Gender Queer and trying to get it banned #love hob doing literally fuck all in this. like does he ever work? who knows #all he does is snog dream a lot. good life tbh #bookstore cryptid dream #dreamling #my writing #dreamling fic #a warm up to hopefully get my brain churning enough today to finish in waking dreams

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bbanghiitomi · 3 months

Text

| haerin sucks!

synopsis: not your average vampire — haerin lives a life working night shifts at an empty convenience store every night until before the sun rises up, she's also got her eyes on a girl whose favorite past time is to pretend she's a vampire's girlfriend.

— nonidol!vampire!khaerin × nonidol!highschool!fem!reader

/⁠╲⁠/⁠\⁠╭⁠(⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)⁠╮⁠/⁠\⁠╱⁠\/⁠╲⁠/⁠\⁠╭⁠(⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)⁠╮⁠/⁠\⁠╱⁠\/⁠╲⁠/

"hyein what the hell?" haerin slams her hand on the counter as she watches her younger friend walking to the exit of the convenience store with a box of chocolate in her hands, with a disbelief expression — haerin, as if this hasn't been happening multiple times still cannot believe her friend could do such a thing. "what's up?" hyein even gets the courage to turn her whole body around with a smile.

lee hyein is another employee of this store owned by mr. kim taehyung, but unlike haerin, hyein is not a vampire and actually gets to live her life like any other ordinary person, except maybe she's insufferable sometimes. haerin used to do so too, but it's been a long time since she's felt the touch of the sunlight, nor have drank anything other than blood. it doesn't even help the fact that haerin looked like she's never had a bed to sleep on, the bags under her eyes are evident, it's as if it's carrying all the weight in this world. not to mention her pale skin, her lips the color of her cheek, porcelain white and literally no signs of life on her body.

it's only been 5 months since that unfortunate incident she had in this very same convenience store, where her life flashed before her eyes and she came out of the storage room as a different person and a different kind of species that night.

haerin rubs her eyes and glares at hyein. "why are you stealing another box of chocolate?" haerin points at hyein with a frown, brows furrowing and her eyes are barely moving. hyein raises the box with a confused look on her face, as if she doesn't get the idea why haerin would be mad.

"i'm borrowing it..." hyein states, she's always like this, there are times after her shift she doesn't steal but more like take something off the store and promises that she'll pay for it through her salary. no matter how hair says she hates when hyein does that, she had never snitched and told mr. kim taehyung, instead she takes an amount of money from hyein's salary and brings it back to the shop's money.

haerin puts a hand on her face, rubbing her forehead before sighing. "hyein — " she stops, looking up at hyein with a glare. "just watch out, goddamn it. if mr. kim taehyung finds out about this i'm dead." haerin grumbles, thinking about how horrible the store's owner is. he's so selfish! not only is he a notorious gambler, he is also very evil and takes his anger out on his minions a.k.a. the innocent people he turned into vampires.

technically, it's not him who turned haerin into one of his kind — but his sister, kim minji, that evil prick. haerin remembers that night, in this same convenience store. she was just a hopeless teenager who is trying to find a part time job, with her papers she carried them with her soul in this convenience store only to get bitten by a rabies infested younger kim. that asshole lied about it being a requirement, saying it had to be done and haerin couldn't be more regretful about everything.

now she's stuck inside this hellhole forever. with a grumpy evil owner, and a tall teenage girl.

great, just how great it is.

"he won't! he's like always away and it's not like you'll tell him, right?" hyein clutched the door, looking at haerin with begging eyes that she couldn't say no to.

"damn it, alright. just go!" haerin looks away and grumbles, watching hyein flee with stolen goods and she watches the taller girl disappear under the dark skies.

then there's the annoying, good for nothing customers — for a bunch of people who purchase nothing but the cheapest thing in the store, they do sure talk a lot. haerin hates this the most about her job, other than being a weak, fragile, coward, and awkward vampire — she's also terrible at customer service, she hates having to spend time helping strangers with the most basic stuff. that's common sense!

oh how much haerin hates talking to people, let alone doing something for them but this was her only choice, other than old vampire men who abuse the capitalist system, there's no one else in this world who would hire a weakling like her. haerin's conscience couldn't even get her to kill a bird to eat, it's just too much.

she's lost everything after what minji did to her, she had to drop out of school — with her roommate's (danielle) help, it's too hard for her and it's almost as if there's no hope left for someone like her. luckily, danielle is helping haerin to get her signed up at a work from home job, which might benefit her considering she's quite smart and all they're waiting is the result of the interview.

seriously, haerin would be nothing without her kind roommate...

that girl is working overtime to look for hospitals that sell donated bloods, at this point the city probably thinks she's a maniac, all that just to help haerin cause the girl is too weak to actually kill someone. that's where her biggest problem lies, how is she supposed to keep living with literally just donated bloods? she's too weak for a vampire, most of the time she looks like someone sucked the life out of her (which is true) still, even vampires find her ridiculous.

"welcome..." haerin mutters as someone enters the store, haerin is too absorbed by her daydreams to even care who entered maybe until she hears the voice. "uhm, do you guys have any adhesive here? like super glue or something like that..." haerin's eyes shoot up and she looks up to see you standing by the nearest aisle, looking for any strong adhesive available. haerin's eyes focus on the girl just a few meters away, and it feels like she has nothing to say.

you notice the delay in haerin's response and take a peek at her from the aisle you were standing behind, your eyes met haerin and she feels like she's about to explode. "u-uh, i think we have them... here at the counter." haerin stutters, taking a breath with a small curse in her head — she doesn't understand why she's like this around you, even before she turned into a vampire.

you've always been giving her the worst types of emotions ever.

"oh, okay." you smile and make your way to the counter, reaching over to the adhesive and the lighter. "i should also get this." you whisper to yourself, as if making a small conversation. haerin feels her fingers shake, not knowing what to do and she stretches her arm a bit to reach over to the items in your hand — when she did she feels like turning into a block of ice, right at that moment she's freezing from head to toe.

you look at her, totally not realizing the severe effect you have on her. haerin shuffles to immediately scan the items, get the amount of money to pay and then the receipt — even though she's liked you for ages, haerin always gets the urge to ask you to leave; immediately! it's hard for her to stay still when you're out there looking so damn pretty, even after she's turned into a vampire her feelings for you have never changed.

to haerin's dismay, you didn't leave — instead you stay there and give her a worried smile. "how come i never see you at school again?" you ask, tilting your head a bit to see her face better. haerin feels like shrinking, or she's always felt small when you're in her sights.

it's bad.

you noticed her absence, even if you never talked to her — you're from another class, just one door away from her room... yet haerin had always made sure to get a glimpse of you, when you're busy working with the science club or when you're just existing.

it never occurred to haerin that you'd even notice her presence, let alone care enough to ask her about it. it's bad, it's really bad...

"uhm, i changed my schedule... i'm taking irregular classes." haerin puts her hand on her forehead, trying to find that familiar warm feeling on her skin yet there was nothing.

she tries to avoid your eyes but you keep looking at her. "oh really? no wonder, it must be a bit complicated for you." you tell her, yet you were quite hesitant if you were going to believe... you really haven't seen her at all in the past few months, that it started to worry you because you've familiarized yourself to haerin's existence when she visits your club which is located at the library.

"yeah... it is." haerin mutters, closing her eyes for a second, enough for her to snap back and for you not to notice. you don't want her to feel uncomfortable, so after paying you leave — feeling quite disappointed you couldn't talk to her more.

haerin curses when you leave, finally able to breathe properly again.

she's not a vampire, which means it must be hard for her to locate the usual emotions she feels when you're around. it's not the same anymore, there's no heartbeat, no blushing, and the same warmth isn't there anymore. it feels so different that haerin isn't used to it, still couldn't get herself to get used to it and it's starting to piss her off.

her shift finishes, she doesn't want to think about you again when she shakes her head and starts pedalling her bike before the sun starts peeking out of the sky.

when she gets home, danielle rambles about the current happenings in her life, which were — thankfully, interesting. danielle doesn't forget to remind haerin about the bags of blood and then to particularly the second best part of her day (first is seeing you again and finding out you actually care about her existence more than she does herself), haerin got the work from home job and can start next week, meaning she doesn't have to rely on her stupid convenience store job.

"that's great." haerin sits on the couch, looking up at danielle who nods and clasps her hands together. "i know right! i mean, god you don't have to keep worrying about losing your job under mr. kim taehyung!" danielle chirps, clearly happy about her friend's start of an actual good story.

haerin sighs, of relief for a second.

she really can't lose her convenience store job but not for the salary, rather than the fact mr. kim taehyung and minji might hunt her down for betraying a trust that's never been there from the start.

"still, i should stay for a bit until the big guy finds his next target — i mean, i can't risk being hunted down by them." haerin shrugs, danielle frowns and nods. "you're right, i mean — no offense but, you're not fit enough to defend yourself. not against minji and definitely mr. taehyung." danielle speaks, to which haerin agrees.

"for the meantime, let's not worry about that stuff... let's focus on the good things!" danielle points at the ceiling, causing haerin to laugh but she agrees again. "you're right." she says, a smile on her lips.

maybe it's the world playing tricks on her but, haerin sees you with niki — nothing too special about him except the fact he's lying about being a vampire. you work at a clothing shop, specifically catering to those who have gothic, emo or punk sense of style. he's a regular customer apparently, and he's always bragging about being a vampire — talking about how it's hard for him to stay at the sunlight, how he's constantly on the hunt for blood, those are tales you usually see in medias portraying lies about vampires.

and you're not usually stupid but for some reason — you believe him, heck, you were even amazed! haerin had always remembered your small interests in things like vampires, gothic church architectures and stuff like that — it is to no surprise you've watched a lot of movies about vampires, read conspiracy theories and imagined stuff...

this dude is gay... haerin curses herself for being mean, but it was true!

it must be just her vampire senses... but she's got this feeling niki is gay, aside from your obvious crush on him — how could you or how could he not notice it? he's always around boys and gets so giddy around guys, when he's with you he acts as if he doesn't care sometimes he's just gonna flaunt about his obviously fake vampire life.

it's super annoying that sometimes haerin has to witness you fawning over him in the convenience store late at night when him and his friends are getting ready with their illegal racing shit.

haerin receives a message from minji, to which she scoffed.

asshole

minji: hey when you start your shift later make sure to meet me outside the store.

minji: i need you to get me some stuff to my car.

and here comes minji, she's also part of the whole illegal racing stuff — funny but minji actually knows you too, haerin assumes it's because of the fact you're always on niki's tail and that niki has friends that take part in the racing community who knows minji.

haerin starts to wonder if you have ever had a conversation with minji, for sure that girl also knows about niki's whole facade.

haerin sighs and puts her arm on her face, regret sipping on her mind again, even hatred and bitterness comes at the tip of her tongue; there's an urge to curse minji as well as niki, but for some reason she couldn't say it.

"i hate this so much..." haerin grunts.

"come here!" haerin blinks and when she opens her eyes she's met with her worst nightmare.

kim minji.

who shouts from the entrance of the store with a demanding tone, gesturing haerin to get out of the store. minji stomps down to the parking spot and haerin follows, quite lethargically with a small frown. it's late at night, and it's only the two of them right now but haerin guessed that minji is probably waiting for her minions.

"my friends are arriving in less than 5 minutes," minji starts to talk and digs her large hand in her pocket to get a severely crumpled paper and shove it towards haerin. "go get me the things listed on that paper and put it on my trunk." haerin tries to remember what job she signed up for, did she sign up to be this gaint-sized toddler's maid?

although it would be nice to teach minji a lesson, haerin knows this girl likes to deal with things physically so it's not a good idea — it's not so ideal to get thrown by someone bigger than you, so all haerin could do was nod and go.

when haerin comes out with the box of beers, she squints her eyes to see you talking to minji — she had her eyes on you, like so focus! even leaning on her car as she speaks, suddenly turning into the nicest vampire around like she just wasn't bossing haerin earlier. this is bad haerin tells herself and she wants to smack her head somewhere, maybe the roof of minji's definitely not super cool car just to get her mad? oh no, that's not a very bright idea.

haerin walks around and carefully puts minji's junk on her trunk, acting like she didn't see you but you did see her! so you move away from minji's car and wave at haerin.

"haerin! hi!" you greet her with a very bright smile, haerin's eyes try not to shift away from yours but she starts to grow nervous — because of you or maybe because minji is staring daggers at her. haerin nods her head but says nothing until maybe she realizes it was better to greet you back. "ah hi y/n." haerin knows the more she stands there the more angry minji gets.

there's nothing worse than an angry bear slash vampire.

"oh you're working? sorry, i didn't mean to bother it's just — i was just happy to see you again!" you tell her, haerin smiles back before nodding.

"yeah me too—"

"okay now don't you have things to fetch there? why not go back and finish it first." minji cuts her off with her rubbish tone, causing haerin to get startled and run back to the store.

you look at minji and wonder what's gotten into her.

"are you okay?" you ask her and she looks at you with her round eyes and says.

"oh definitely, look why don't you head to the meeting place with my friends? i just have some stuff to pick up here but i'll follow."

you nod and immediately get inside one of her friends' car who she called for.

haerin comes back outside with a box of chips and yelps as minji pulls her behind by her collar. "woah! what's wrong with you!?" haerin clutches her collar and grunts, eyes glaring at minji who scoffs at her.

"what's with you and y/n?" minji asks, eager for an immediate answer.

haerin shakes her head, even though she hates minji of course she's still scared — she has no idea what this prick could do.

"nothing! we're schoolmates before, she knows my roommate... why don't you ask that to niki?" haerin talks back, but immediately feels minji letting go of her collar and she chokes back her breath.

"who now? that gay boy?" minji chuckles and clutches her before bursting into a fit of laughter — getting a startled stare from haerin.

"there is no way! what..?" minji looks up at haerin and continues to laugh.

"yeah, y/n likes him a little."

minji looks at haerin as if she can't believe what was said, haerin walks backwards a bit, feeling minji's taller figure approach her menacingly.

"i feel like you're lying to me just like how niki lies about him being a vampire."

haerin sighs, of course minji knows about that but haerin knows she's not lying because she is scared to face it. "minji, i swear. i mean, isn't it obvious with y/n's particular interest in vampires?" haerin tries to stand properly just in case minji tries to blow a punch on her, which thankfully she's never done before but haerin does not want that to happen.

haerin realizes minji must also like you, a lot. "you shouldn't be threatened by him." haerin mutters enough for minji to hear, minji pushes haerin by her shoulder rough but not rough enough for haerin to fall. "you're crazy if you think i'm scared of that clown." minji looks around and then back at haerin.

minji with her pride, she pushes her hair back and sighs. "y/n should be with me." she mutters before hopping on her car and leaving haerin standing like an idiot.

what the hell was that? haerin slams her head on the counter, sighing. she already has zero chance to have you now it's reduced to negative? how bad can her life get?

haerin ruffles her own hair and groans.

another night again, she's on her way to her work and she stumbles upon an alley that feels unfamiliar — she walked almost a hundred times here already but she's felt something weird here.

she continues to walk further and sees minji cornering a random man and in the corner of her eyes she sees you.

"minji!" she calls for the girl who had her hands on the man's collar.

"get out of here!" minji yells back causing haerin to step back. "b-but—! mr. kim taehyung!" haerin stutters and sees minji slam the guy on the wall.

you stood behind watching everything unfold, minji's unusual strength and your eyes meet haerin. "take y/n out of here or else i'm gonna punch you!" minji shouts and haerin immediately scrambles to reach for your hand and pulls you away.

"let's go!" haerin says and you turn your head behind to look at minji. "but how about her?!"

"just leave it to her! she can manage herself!" haerin says running until you both were somewhere in the middle of the main street. haerin sighs thinking about how screwed she is that she isn't at work yet.

minji really told her to take you. she's sometimes so stupid.

haerin takes her phone.

lee hyein

haerin: hyein! please... cover for me for a bit!

haerin: i'm going to be super lateee and i need you to stay there.

haerin: i'll let you take food with you and i'll pay for it!

hyein: thanks! i was about to say no but that's a nice deal!

"what's up with minji? she's so strong? i bid her goodbye and when i was being harassed she immediately knew where i was?" you ask haerin, as if she knew — technically she did but it's not like she's gonna say it. haerin wipes the sweat off of her forehead. "she's just like that — she knows every corner in this place and she's of course strong." haerin sighs.

you take a step closer to haerin, scanning her face all over. "are you okay? you look really stressed out." you tell her, taking a peek at her face. haerin closes her eyes and nods. "i'm just worried, ugh — she's so reckless, if she gets in trouble my boss will kill me."

it's not supposed to be some kind of exaggeration, she's serious about mr. kim taehyung comes for her ass once minji comes home with a bruise or gets tangled with the police officers roaming.

"are you worried she's not gonna come out okay?" you ask while putting a hand on her shoulder, haerin freezes, then she looks at your hand and to your face. not necessarily about minji well being, more on the fact that police are now on the hunt for vampires who are the reason why the town's currently in shambles.

"yeah, she's so reckless." haerin says and immediately looks away.

haerin scratches the back of her head and proposes an idea. "i should probably accompany you home, that's probably what minji wants me to do." you look at her with a confused expression.

"we're not gonna wait for her?"

haerin nods and gulps. "her pride can't take that, besides she's gonna ask me about you later."

haerin starts walking and you skip your way to follow behind her, it doesn't matter that the sky is pitch back, the stars are not visible from your view probably because of the air pollution — and the only thing you see is haerin's back under the street lamps.

haerin is still stressing.

"i did miss you."

you start talking and haerin looks behind you and stops walking.

"what?" she asks.

you stare at her and smile, chuckling a bit.

"why not? i always see you at school, i mean yeah we're not friends and barely had any conversation but i was kind of fond of your presence somewhere..." you roll your eyes playfully and shrug, haerin still is speechless.

"uhm, i didn't know that." haerin mutters, looking away and trying not to cower away.

you laugh awkwardly, walking past her.

"i guess you don't probably feel the same, which is okay — i never found you to be the type to bond over strangers and small things." you speak, walking slowly and haerin starts to follow behind.

"no! it's just, i didn't think you'd think it's a big deal. i left and that's all." haerin is now the one trying to catch up, there was not much of a gap but it feels like haerin is trying to reach for something she cannot get a hold of.

you hear her say she left and turned around.

"you left..?" you remember her saying she took a different schedule, guess maybe vampires don't have sharp memory.

"huh? wait what did i say?"

"you said you left? but last time you told me you changed schedule and is now an irregular student." you look at her with an accusing look, why does it matter so much? what if she really did leave school? why should you care about it?

you don't know too.

all you knew is that you cared for her, even just for a bit.

"i did say that... and it's true—"

"you're not that good at lying." you cut her off, staring at her and she stops walking to stretch her hands to try and reach but she stops to put it on her head, opting to fix her hair and sighing.

"can i... yeah — i did drop out." haerin puts her hands on her face.

"that's it. it's not that hard."

haerin slowly puts her hands down like a poor kitten.

"are you mad at me for lying?" haerin asks and you stare at her before laughing. "no, i'm just worried. you've been gone for so long and i started wondering what happened to you."

haerin shakes her head. "i didn't want you to have a different view of me."

you cross your arms and sigh. "no matter what happens, i'm never gonna change how i look at you!" you tilt your head and smile at her.

"even if i was a monster?" haerin asks.

you pause and stomp your feet, raising your hands. "even if you're a cockroach or a worm!"

haerin blinks and nods. "that's nice."

you turn yourself around and start walking again, haerin watches and sighs for almost a thousand time.

"sometimes i want to be a vampire, just because i think it's very cool..." you raise your hands to the sky, as if reaching for something that's not there — haerin continues to watch, almost forgetting how short her time is outside.

"like — i want to dress so elegantly, just the darkest colors out there, my closet so perfect... i want to live in a mansion, get serve by maids and stuff... i want to live for a long time like those vampires in the books and movies."

haerin blinks and you look up, closing your fist and eventually bringing them down.

"have you ever seen a vampire working on a minimum wage job?" haerin asks, you turn your head to look at her and laugh. "huh?" you chuckle.

haerin shrugs and continues to walk, you turn your head away again and continue walking.

"i don't even think i've seen an actual vampire." you tell haerin which surprised her. "what?" haerin mutters.

"yeah... i heard they were real and roaming around our town, it's kind of hard to believe but i guess the police are just making sure."

haerin opens her mouth, pointing her index finger at you.

"but i thought niki was..."

"a vampire?"

you laugh. "you think he's saying the truth?"

haerin immediately shakes her head with her brows furrowed. "no —!"

"— i just thought you thought he was..." she continues.

you shake your head and shrug. "you know niki is actually kind of funny, he has a cool sense of style... he's fun to hang out with and honestly i love how on character he is most of the time — that's all i think about him, why i like hanging out with him."

haerin puffs her chest and breathes out, as if trying to contain herself from saying something so unnecessary. "i agree —! he's also a regular at the store you work at."

now, does that mean you don't have a crush on him? haerin would love to dip her head somewhere cold.

you eventually stop in front of your house, and you turn around to look at her and smile. "it's almost 5 am..." you tell her and haerin's face contorts into an unknown expression. "what..?" she whispers.

"can i tell you something? i was thinking if we can go out —"

"i should go now!" haerin scrambles and starts running, leaving you confused on your own standing in front of your house.

haerin feels like her soul is about to fly out of her body, she's running so fast in order to get ahead of the sun that's about to rise.

no... no, no, no, no, no!

haerin chants inside her head, wishing for the sky to stop moving and the earth to stop rotating. it's so over for her once the orange starts peeking out of the clouds.

and there's a loud boom of engine and haerin almost trips when she stops and sees minji's familiar car.

"get in you loser!" she hears minji's aggressive voice and that made her immediately climb inside the passenger seat and close the door — taking a deep sigh of relief.

"your seatbelt." minji simply says and that has haerin putting the seatbelt around her immediately and leaning on the seat with a loud grunt.

the car drives around the neighborhood and it's quiet.

"god, are you okay? were there cops chasing you?" haerin asks, looking at minji — minji glares at haerin and scoffs. "no, so don't worry about being murdered by my brother —"

"he is so violent when he's angry!" haerin fights back.

"can we stop talking about him? be honest with me." minji looks at the road again, hands on the steering wheel.

"what?" haerin looks at the window, taking in the view of the sunrise. "do you like y/n?" haerin sighs when hears minji asking.

"no —"

"i said be honest with me." minji cuts her off.

"did you get rejected?" minji chuckles and answers. "you're bold, kang. she just happened to not be my type after some time talking to each other."

"'cause she wasn't fawning over you probably, wait — why are you even asking?" haerin grumbles, minji takes a look at the younger girl and shakes her head.

"you're so bad at many things — even lying." minji says.

haerin looks at the older one dead in the eyes, she doesn't fail to make fun of haerin's capabilities as if it wasn't her fault.

"so? this is all your fault."

minji sighs and then she chuckles. "i'm sorry, alright? i'm trying to make it up to you."

haerin looks at the lines of houses.

"whatever, why'd you ask anyway?"

minji takes a swift turn, talking so smoothly.

"i think y/n likes you."

that made haerin fall, literally — as the car stops abruptly causing haerin to lose her posture, figuratively — as she remembers what you told her.

going out...

y/n :)

y/n: did i say something wrong?

haerin stares at your message when she runs to their shared house and immediately closes the door.

y/n :)

haerin: i'm so sorry i ran away!

haerin: minji needed me.

haerin: and yes! let's go out together!

y/n: great! it's a date by the way...

haerin puts her hand on her face before sliding down the door, receiving quite a stare from her roommate.

she receives a message again but from hyein.

lee hyein

hyein: you asshole...

hyein: why'd you leave me here!!???

haerin lets go of her phone with a surprised look on her face. "oh my god, my shift!"

#female reader #kpop #kpop imagines #newjeans #newjeans imagines #girl group #danielle #girlgroup imagines #kim minji #kang haerin #haerin x reader #newjeans minji #newjeans haerin #newjeans x reader

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love-lilly02 · 1 month

Text

The Challenge- Ch. 7

An- hey. (drops random half edited chapter that’s probably the shortest one i’ve ever written) see ya🚶🏾‍♀️

A total of two months, three and a half weeks and six days.

That was how long you had been MIA. Each time another day was added to that count, you grew more restless than before. You wanted to go home, to sleep in your bed, eat american food, damnit just to have a different color shirt to wear.

And yet you were still stuck here.

Each day started off the same. You would wake up at the ass crack of dawn, eat something akin to breakfast with Nikolai and wait to see if today was the day you were going back. Instead, he would silently place a knife on the table— some days it was different— and walk out of the room. The same routine, every day. for the past two months.

It was enough to drive any normal person insane. and it had almost driven you insane, definitely would have if you weren’t in the military.

You had managed to work up the courage to ask why he didn’t immediately send you back one day, why he tolerated you staying with him for this long.

“If i send you back they do things different. Look at you oddly, treat you weirder. Here you can rest, regain your skills.” He had said, not pausing to spare you a glance.

“I take you back when you ready.”

according to him, you had not been ready in a long time.

you never really gave up hope. Not actually, you knew logically at some point he had to bring you back to them. And going back on your own was a suicide mission, one even worse than the thing that had gotten you into this mess. So you waited.

If it took five months or seven years, you would wait.

Kate Laswell was a woman of action.

She knew this for a fact, it had been thrown back into her face so many times she lost body parts to count it. Which is why your disappearance bothered her so much. You were a person of action as well, it’s what prompted her to introduce you to the 141. So then why had you been MIA for the past three months? The thought sat there constantly, turning even the best days sour.

That, and what you were doing to the team.

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, although you did have to look a bit harder to see the changes. Especially in people like Ghost and Price, whereas Kyle and Soap might as well have worn their emotions on their sleeves. She wished she could do something to help, to find where exactly you were. Or if you were alive, even.

All given evidence suggested otherwise.

She had replayed the shitty camera footage of your disappearance, watched it frame by frame, pixel by pixel. Mutiple times, and she couldn’t figure out how there could be a way for you to get out of there. It just wouldn’t have added up.

But she didn’t give up there, of course she wouldn’t.

She kept searching, looking for any sign of you. As a civilian, one of the russian’s captives, anyone. anything could come into play, you were a smart girl and everyone knew it.

Unfortunately, that also meant you could cover up your tracks well.

It took another month for anything good to come up. And that something good came as salvation always does.

In the form of a call.

John had made an attempt to push the situation out of his mind, to allow you to handle your own business. His thoughts screamed at him to be more active, to do something more, but there was literally nothing for it.

Or so he thought.

The call came in while he was walking out of a meeting, silently dreading the mound of paperwork he would now have to do. When he saw the caller ID he had to do a double take, and he rushed to answer the call.

“Nik?”

“Captain. It’s been a while, no?”

“Damn right it has. Makes me scared.”

His old friend laughed, and Price could imagine the way he was shaking his head.

“Yes, yes. But i have gift—what? okay, okay sheesh. I have… surprise… for you.”

Price just stared. “Is there someone else there? What’s goin on Nik?”

There was silence on the other end of the line, then a lot of rusting.

“Um. Hey.”

Price almost dropped the phone.

The process of getting you back wasn’t as hard as they thought it would be, but it certainly took a very long time.

In reality it took two weeks. But to them each day felt like a decade.

The entire flight took 11 hours, and they weren’t allowed to meet you halfway (something about using military vehicles for non military purposes. all four boys thought that was absolute bull shit but they couldn’t do anything about it) So they did the next best thing.

wait.

And they waited. and waited. Each time a chopper landed on the helipad they were rushing to the window, seeing if it was you. It got to the point that they had someone constantly surveying that area of the base, just so they could be immediately notified.

And finally, finally you were back.

It was a whole ordeal, theatrics that even soap had to roll his eyes at. The moment you got off the plane you were swamped with people asking questions, doctors trying to assess how you were alive and unharmed, people just staring in awe.

But you ignored them all, scanning the crowd with a panicked expression. It didn’t disappear till you saw the four of them, standing far, far away from the mob of people surrounding you.

Nik walked out behind you, placing a steadying hand on your shoulder. The two of you made your way down the ramp to the group, and Price smiled for the first time in a long time when he saw you.

“Welcome back, kid.”

this was gona be an akward chapter anyways, i had NO idea how to write the reader's return. I'll make it up to you guys next time, pinkie promise

My Masterist

#cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost x reader

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stluciabuns · 6 months

Text

The Historical Accuracy of Kirsten's Dirndl

Despite its adorableness, I have seen many people complain about Kirsten's Swedish Dirndl outfit.

I would kill a man to have bought this for $22.

She wears this outfit for most of Meet Kirsten, being that she is an impoverished immigrant child who does not own any other clothes, and also for continuity reasons.

Frequently, I have seen it claimed that this outfit is not historically accurate and should not have been included as part of her collection. Conversely, I have also seen many German folk costumes marketed as being made for Kirsten. Both of these pain me a great deal (actually they just annoy me).

Nonetheless, I have decided to further procrastinate doing actual, meaningful work and instead set out on a new mission: figure out what the fuck is up with Kirsten's Dirndl.

In this post, I will lay out the research I have done, the evidence supporting the historical accuracy of this outfit, the challenges to its existence, and ultimately aim to answer the question of whether this outfit is one Kirsten plausibly could have worn on her journey from Sweden to America in 1854.

Let's begin.

First, the name. Pleasant Company/American Girl referred to this outfit as "Kirsten's Swedish Dirndl and Kerchief."

Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a Swedish dirndl. "Dirndl" is a German term, and refers to folk costumes worn by people in German-speaking areas of Europe (the Alps, Bavaria, Austria, and so on).

Kirsten is Swedish, and before Meet Kirsten has never left Sweden before. It is very unlikely she would have acquired, and regularly worn, a German dirndl. See this gorgeous example of a dirndl c. 1840:

Outfit, c. 1840. Munich, Bavaria, Germany. Münchner Stadtmuseum.

This ensemble is beautiful, but tragically, it is not what Kirsten is wearing.

What, then, is Kirsten wearing? What kind of traditional dress does Swedish culture have?

As it turns out, the proper term for what she is wearing is a folkdräkt. This is a Swedish term meaning "folk costume." Here is an illustration depicting multiple examples of Swedish folk costumes. In proper terms, these would be called "Svenska folkdräkter."

Nordisk familjebok (1908), vol. 8, Folkdräkt. Retrieved from runeberg.org.

These outfits are not quite identical to anything we see in Kirsten's collection, but you can observe various elements that have carried over -- the vertical stripes, black woolen skirts with ornate trim, and white dresses and red sashes (hello St. Lucia)!

Let us dive deeper. What do extant Svenska folkdräkter, specially those made c. 1850, look like? Is there anything like Kirsten's outfit among surviving examples?

Johan Sodermark, "Kvinna i dräkt."

In my few hours of research, this example image is the closest thing I have found to Kirsten's dirndl.

This lovely portrait is a watercolor from 1850 painted by Johan Sodermark. It is very creatively titled "Kvinna i dräkt" -- literally, "Woman in costume." The pattern of this woman's apron is incredibly similar to that of the skirt of the Kirsten doll's outfit -- a dark red base with blue and yellow stripes woven throughout.

Here is a closeup from the American Swedish Institute.

Although it is not shown in the doll-sized version of the outfit, the illustrations in Meet Kirsten by Renée Graef show us she also wears a light-colored, striped apron, which is almost surely the one that comes with her meet outfit.

Illustrations from Meet Kirsten, drawn by Renée Graef.

Notice the fabric of the bodice in the third illustration, though: Kirsten's top is made of red plaid fabric, while Sodermark's girl has an outfit full of stripes. Kirsten, bless her heart, spends an entire book outfit-repeating a potential pattern-mixing fail: plaid and two kinds of stripes and a floral scarf. Did Pleasant Rowland just hate her? Is Kirsten on another, elevated fashion plane far beyond my comprehension? Is there a historical basis for this combination of patterns?

I have no answer to the first two questions, but thankfully can speak on the third.

Komplett Vilskedräkt, Västergötlands museum. Some pieces c. 1865.

The top is plaid and laces up, which is not necessarily the most common way of fastening (in most examples, the bodice pins up), but it is a sensible choice considering both Kirsten's age (9) and the fact that Pleasant Company was making toys for little hands.

The model for the outer shell (the lace up top) belonged to Karl Edberg from Hällestad; it is not dated, but at least one piece of this set (the bag, which is not shown) is c. 1865. Additionally, the blouse here is very similar to the one that comes with Kirsten's winter outfit -- look at that keyhole neckline!

So, Kirsten's Dirndl outfit is actually very accurate as far as the clothing itself goes...the name remains the trouble.

I have no idea why they called it a dirndl. Folkdräkt is definitely challenging to pronounce, but why wouldn't PC just translate it as "folk dress" or "Swedish outfit" and call it a day? Why the insistence on referencing a culture that isn't relevant to the doll or her dress at all?

Perhaps this is a mystery to tackle for another day...

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isephierreo · 10 months

Text

Sothis' design symbols and colors are frequently represented in nabataeans design, game's UI and many more. In this post, we will address all of this.

Stars

These magical points of light would have always reminded people of other worlds and heavenly powers. According to spiritualists and astrologers, the stars transmit certain messages and energies that affect our own world. Stars are often seen as magical and mysterious, reflecting the mysteries of the universe. Also, the star would hold the meaning to something higher, beautiful, enlightening, mighty, and divine. All of these things unmistakably represent everything Sothis is in a game. The stars also symbolize guidance on the right path (either literally or figuratively), a role played by Sothis, Byleth, and Rhea in game.

Heart

The heart often symbolizes love and passion, but it also symbolizes spirit, the essence of life and strength, and this is in line with the concept of the crest of flames as the source of Sothis' power. Furthermore, the crest of flames is in the stylized shape of a heart, and in the Sothis' design it appears literally inside a heart in her necklace.

The similarity of the design of Sothis to the Nabataeans

In order to understand the method of my explanation of the similarity of the nabateans design with Sothis' tiara, I divided the crown parts and named each part as follows: P1, P2, P3, P4, P5, P6, P7, P8, and P9.

Surely many have noticed that Rhea's adornment is very similar to that of Sothis, while the patterns on her cape are similar to those of Sothis' dress and the crest of flames.

She has P1 and P2 in her outfit as Seiros.

Like Rhea, Seteth has in both his diadem and belt frame and tassels similar parts to that of Sothis’ tiara, but in a more stylized form as pictured below.

While Flayn's barrette may not look like the parts of Sothis' tiara at first glance, they are in fact stylized P1, P2/P3, and P5.

The distinctive pattern that Seteth and Flayn share looks like a stylized of Sothis' knot, and even the pattern on Seteth's back is similar to a P3.

Even the pendant owned by Sitri is the same as the P8.

Colors

Sothis generally wears blue (specifically dark blue), which is the color of the star Sirius. However, it is very important to note that the Sothis' ribbons are distinguished by the color white, which in Buddhist culture and most world cultures symbolizes learning, purity, longevity and knowledge, and pink symbolizes the traditional Buddha. So we see Sothis in crests mural wearing only white and pink. (I avoided golden and black because I felt that they are just colors used in general in design)

Besides, all the Nabateans wear the same Sothis’ color scheme, white, blue, golden and black.

The only color they lack is pink, which only Byleth and Seiros wear in her hair band.

The Byleth's dagger also has the same Sothis' color scheme, representing the relationship they have. But I guess I'll talk more about Byleth's design in another post.

The rainbow fish bestowing the Goddess Messenger has the same Sothis' color scheme.

I know that I ignored black and golden, and I know that some may think that the uniform colors of the Officers Academy represent the names of the three houses, but it also specifically represents the Sothis' color scheme, and evidence of this is the white shirts, and the dark blue which is the same color as Sothis' dress.

Its house leader insignia is similar to P1 and P4.

The pattern in uniform has P1 motifs, as does the infinity motif in Sothis' necklace.

The uniform brooch is stylized for P1, P3 and P4, but in rhombus pattern style.

Speaking of the rhombus pattern, some must have noticed it given its presence a lot in the game, and in any product for it. Sometimes 4 rhombuses major are combined to form a four-pointed star, and sometimes 4 rhombus minors are also combined with the major ones to form an eight-pointed star. The eight-pointed star is the one that represents Sothis and the Nabateans in general, which symbolizes god, protection, and victory. Over the years, it has also taken on different meanings due to a variety of cultures and customs adopting it. In many cultures the eight-pointed star is also a symbol of harmony, spirit, and matter. You could even think of this star shape as two superimposed squares that form the basis for the universe. Sometimes a square is confused with a rhombus, especially since a rhombus can also form an eight-pointed star with a square.

This pattern is present in many parts of the game, including white magic units, church npc, and the pattern found in Rhea and Gilbert outfits.

The pattern found in Cathedral.

And in many UI game.

There are also many UI that contain a Sothis' design, as shown in the image below.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe three houses #fe16

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rottmnt-residuum · 11 months

Note

Any other LGBTQ+ Headcannons that are canon is the comic??;)

*patiently awaits Cupioromantic Donnie*

hmm... had to think about this for a while and talk about it with co-author, but here's what we got. we mostly base this stuff on how plausible it is in show/if there's evidence for it. with a dash of personal experience. This only applies to residuum, btw. I have different personal headcanons for these characters outside the comic.

april: lesbian. this is mostly based off of the fact that most aprils get with their caseys & the comment she said to dale. which could be taken as disinterest in dale specifically, but she seemed more concerned with impressing that popular girl earlier and that reads as more... saphic, i suppose. or at the very least homoromantic.

raph: raph is just raph. we look at him and basically just *tv static*. go crazy. all we got is jokes or stuff that has too little evidence to support. so, yeah, he's whatever you want him to be i guess?

leo: trans. already said my reason in the other post. also, gay. if gay were a power source he could power the entirety of the united states for five months straight without a single power outage. failing power grid notwithstanding (< thats the actual word. its supposed to be mushed together like that. wack.).

donnie: as much as i'd like him to be ace/aro spectrum rep, he just doesn't have the evidence in show for us to apply it to him in this comic. it's funny, for being hc as ace so often he sure is the most outwardly romantic/sexual turtle in the show lmao. one! cherry: "you're so cute, but you're so mean! why do i always go for your type?" two! astrogirl?? (whatever her name is) he is very very romantic with her. he has a type y'all. also just look at those two, he's a leg man lmao (bootyyshaker9000 anyone? ha!) anyway. and with the bromance/instant chemistry he had with that one guy in the purple dragons... Pan. or possibly Omni as he does seem to favor... cute brutal femme... Yeah. Omnisexual.

(you have no idea how fucking bad i want this boy to be ace spectrum. hes got the colors y'all!! The Colors!!!!! but alas... i am bound by my canon plausibility creed for this comic)

mikey: ace. possibly ace/aro. he shows interest in literally no-one. we're aware that the common hc is pan but... we know a pan 13 year old, and let me tell you ahahahaha, kids going through puberty are very uncomfortable to be around sometimes, especially around their partners. or crushes. and mikey... well, that boy is ace behavior personified lmao. aces in the back you get what we mean right?? right??? anyway commiting to aroace

#residual asks #rottmnt #i really get a kick out of he/him butch lesbian raph and ghostbear-sexual raph #but i'd never use those seriously. or at least in this comic #co-author says what they get if they really had to choose for raph is ace homoromantic #but otherwise...#he's just raph #like we can't apply any identity to him. and we really mean ANY identity. not even straight or umbrella terms like queer #its a very odd feeling #i also really like trans april but we don't have enough evidence for it #in fact there's actually counter evidence- but don't let that stop your dreams y'all. it just stops ours :P #sorry for stepping on your donnie dreams anon #but honestly i think that label applies more to 2012 donnie imo #i really do personally prefer ace/aro donnie. but i'd make everyone ace if i were able lmao #co-author would also do the same thing ahaah #i just don't like depicting romantic relationships. or attraction ahahaah #with mikey... we get why people hc him as pan... but like its a fandomism stereotype #that literally every fandom applies to optimistic friendly characters. and honestly i really don't like the fandomism stereotypes #i just find them... unenjoyable i guess #cuz like y'alll... your sexuality isn't inherently determined by your personality or vise versa #cuz like i know for sure that in fandom spaces- if i were a character- i'd be stereotyped as pan or a hypersexual cis het #to which i am neither. at all.#and co-author would be stereotyped as the demure femme book lesbian #which they are VERY much not #and i know this because i've been fandomified by people in my life more than once #it is a very uncomfortable experience y'all #whoops rant in the tags #residuum #rottmnt residuum #residuum wb

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redheadspark · 4 months

Note

The Denial prompts!! 2 is so Druig-coded! Can you write it for Druig please?

A/N - Awww this is perfect for the mind controller himself! Thanks for the request, anon!

Told Ya

Summary - Druig is always filled with doubt, but leave it to Makkari to bring him to the light

Warnings - Mostly fluff

Druig’s eyes were on you from his spot in the Meeting Room, the smile on your face making you almost look like you were glowing after listening to Sersi’s story that she was telling you. Of course, he was trying to make it seem like he wasn’t looking or watching at all, hoping a book tentatively in his hands with his thumb on the spot of the book where he stopped. But hearing your laugh ring like bells in the small room, the small twinkle in your eyes that was illuminated from the Domo lights, and the soft color of your armor against your skin, Druig was nonetheless entranced.

If he had to be honest, he has been entranced with you for the longest time. Maybe for as long as you all were on earth.

Druig was never one to show he had feelings or that he was weak, though he knew there was nothing wrong in showing one’s feelings or being vulnerable. Druig never did it himself, he was busy and preoccupied with saving humans from Deviants to channel his inner feelings toward you. But you none the less caught his attention from the moment you two met. He thought of your wicked sense of humor, able to brighten any room with a chuckle or your light hearted attitude. He adored your kindness and soft gestures towards others, especially those who were in need of comfort.

Most of all, Druig was enraptured with your heart that was filled with beauty that then reflected in your smile and bright eyes.

Over time, Druig held it against his chest and locked it away, not wishing to expose himself and let others know of this secret that he had. Maybe he thought of it as a major secret when it was a simple crush, and he would try his best not to show it or say it in front of anyone. You two were in fact friends, Druig loved having you as one of his closest friends who knew him far too well and brought out the best in him. But then again, he inwardly and selfishly wanted more with you. He wanted what Ikaris and Sersi had, which was saying something since he was still indifferent to Ikaris. But still, he wanted to hold your hand and feel how soft your skin was against his calloused palm, he wanted to hold you in his arms to feel that warmth he knew you had around you like a shield.

Druig wanted to kiss you and bring you nothing but joy.

Watching you like a love-sick puppy, Druig was too distracted to see Makkari speed over to chat with him with her mesh bag in hand, wishing to share with Druig her recent treasure haul. But she saw his eyes trained in your direction, her eyes looking over to see you and Sersi chatting away. The speedster smirked, looking back at her best friend and she playfully shoved his arm with her own to get his attention. He looked over a bit too quick, almost stumbling off the bench where he sat.

"Druig, you’re drooling."

“What?”

Druig looked at his best friend, seeing Makkari gesture to his slightly open mouth, to which he slammed his mouth shut instantly. Makkari chuckled, the sound filling the room as you were on the other side of the Meeting Room, looking away from talking to Sersi and at Makkari and Druig. Druig was looking down rather sheepish, blush was evident on his cheeks. You smiled, thinking of it affectionately as Ajak floated over to you, lacing your arms together.

“Come, I have something to discuss with you,” She said to you, taking you out of the room with ease. Druig and Makkari were watching you being escorted away, Druig then glaring at Makkari as she smirked back at him.

“What?” She asked him was giving her a hard look, “You’re literally eyeing her with affection!”

“I am not,” He signed and said to her in retaliation, though Makkari titled her head at him as he kept going, “I think of her only as a friend,”

“Doubtful. You two would be cute together since you bring out the best in one another,” Makkari explained to Druig, her eyes light and filled with truth as Druig was already shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck, “There’s no shame in liking her, she’s wonderful! As are you, and you two getting together wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“It would be an interference with our work on Earth,” Druig reasoned, though Makkari was now the one glaring at him.

“Sounds like an excuse,” She commented, “You made it sound time-consuming to be with her, or anyone for that matter.”

“I don’t have time for a relationship, anyways,” He added on, though Makkari slapped his arm and scoffed at him,

“That has nothing to do with anything I just said, like at all,” She said to him with her glare, seeing him look a bit sheepish as she sighed and sat down next to him. As stubborn and hard-headed as he was when he came to what was on his mind, Makkari knew her best friend deep down. He had a massive heart, and she knew he wanted, craved even, for you to hold it in your hands.

“Even if….if she thought of me like that…I don’t think she would want to be with someone like me,” he said in a mumble. He thought of you as the sun and himself as the moon, opposites and never able to share the same space. You are bright, cheerful, and filled with life and warmth. He was mysterious, aloof, and wrapped in the calm and silence that the night would bring. Druig always hated the notion of comparing two things, but he always compared himself to you.

It wore him down sometimes, always thinking of the worst and how you would never dare look in his direction in that way.

Makkari tucked a finger under his chin, and gently coaxed him to look at her as she gave him one of her infamous smiles that would always brighten his day, “You can be a silly fool sometimes”

Druig raised an eyebrow at her, not understanding what she meant as he then heard someone gliding over in their direction. Both Makkari and Druig looked, seeing it was you with a massive grin on your face. Just the way you were smiled was enough to make Druig almost lose his breath. You stood right in front of him, Makkari scooting away slightly as you finally spoke.

“Druig, Ajak wants us to go on patrol tonight, together,” You explained, Druig’s eye going a bit wide as Makkari was grinning wide like she a prize.

“Did she?” Druig asked, keeping his voice composed as you nodded your head.

“Well..it was my suggestion anyways,” You admitted, fiddling with your fingers in front of you as Druig felt his heartbeat go a bit faster now and a flushness was now on his cheeks. You wanted to go with him? Was he hearing you right? Not that you two haven’t been on patrol alone before. In fact…you haven’t. You were always going in groups of three or more. This would be the first time….alone…

“Oh,” Druig could only say as Makkari was mentally wished she could kick him in the leg.

“The city itself is well secured, and we haven’t seen a Deviant in a week now, so only two of us seem to make more sense. Plus, we haven't got to be together for some time and I wanted to catch up with you,” You explained, thinking that you had to explain to him why you wanted him to come along with you. Maybe you thought he was going to decline the offer, but seeing the small smile morph into a bigger one on his face was enough to make you realize you made the right choice.

“I would love to join you,” he replied, the smile you had was enough to make him feel hot all over as you nodded your head at him.

“Great! I’ll….I’ll meet you outside then. I’ll grab some snacks for us too, see you out there!” You explained, turning on your heel and heading over to the makeshift kitchen area where Gilgamesh was starting to make dinner for the family. Druig watched you walking away, already replaying you asking him to come with you over and over in his mind. Hearing the tone in your voice, seeing the twinkle in your eyes, and he felt like he was dreaming the whole time. But it all happened, and he could feel every insecurity he had towards himself melt away and evaporate in thin air.

Once again, Makkari scooted his side to get his attention. Druig looked, seeing Makkari give him a wink as he rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.” He replied, though Makkari snorted.

The End.

January Prompt Session

#druig x reader #druig x female reader #druig x y/n #druig x eternal!reader #druig fanfiction #druig fluff #eternals #fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #druig #marvel #the eternals #marvel cinematic universe fandom #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #mcu phase 4 #mcu fanfiction #mcu

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contemplatingoutlander · 8 months

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youtube

THOM HARTMANN: Science Explains Why Republicans Can’t Accept Trump’s Guilt (Sept. 12, 2023)

Scientists discovered a fascinating reason why Republicans can’t accept criticism of Donald Trump. Thom explains.

In the above video, Thom Hartmann refers to a Raw Story column by cognitive neuroscientist Bobby Azarian, PhD (shown below):

Here are some excerpts from Azarian's column:

In 2009, a study published in PLOS ONE challenged our understanding of belief systems. Researchers placed participants into the confines of an fMRI scanner and presented them with a mixture of factual and abstract statements. The results were illuminating. Disbelief, it turns out, is cognitively demanding. It requires more mental effort than simply accepting a statement as true. From an evolutionary perspective, this preference for easy belief makes sense; a perpetually skeptical individual questioning every piece of information would struggle to adapt in a fast-paced world. What does all this have to do with Trump supporters? Well, it’s far less cognitively demanding for them to believe anything their leader tells them. Any challenge to what Trump tells them is true takes mental work. This means there is a psychological incentive for Trump loyalists to maintain their loyalty. (I wrote about this phenomenon in a slightly different context in the Daily Beast article "Religious Fundamentalism: A Side Effect of Lazy Brains?") Molding of belief: neuroplasticity at play Now, let's consider the unique predicament faced by individuals who staunchly support Trump and want him to again become president. From the moment Trump began his political career and his social engineering career, his supporters have been exposed to narratives — Trump doesn't lie, Democrats are communists, the media is an enemy of the people — that emphasize loyalty and trust in their political idol. These narratives often steer away from critical examination and instead encourage blind faith. When coupled with the brain's inherent tendency to accept rather than question, it creates an ideal environment for unwavering allegiance. No matter that Trump, time and again, has been revealed to be a serial liar, habitually misrepresenting matters of great consequence, from elections to economics to public health. For example, in the Psychology Today article "Why Evangelicals are Wired to Believe Trump’s Falsehoods," I explain that the children of Christian fundamentalists typically begin to suppress critical thinking at an early age. This is required if one is to accept Biblical stories as literal truth, rather than metaphors for how to live life practically and with purpose. Attributing natural occurrences to mystical causes discourages youth from seeking evidence to back their beliefs. Consequently, the brain structures that support critical thinking and logical reasoning don't fully mature. This paves the way for heightened vulnerability to deceit and manipulative narratives, especially from cunning political figures. Such increased suggestibility arises from a mix of the brain's propensity to accept unverified claims and intense indoctrination. Given the brain's neuroplastic nature, which allows it to shape according to experiences, some religious followers are more predisposed to accept improbable assertions. In other words, our brains are remarkably adaptable and continuously evolving landscapes. For ardent Trump supporters, residing in an environment that prioritizes faith over empirical evidence can reshape the neural circuits within their brains. [color emphasis added]

[edited]

#why republicans can't accept trump's guilt #donald trump #neuroscience #the brain and disbelief #christian fundamentalists #maga republicans #thom hartmann #bobby azarian #youtube video #raw story #Youtube

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larkspyrr · 7 months

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chapter i — we could form an attachment (wc. 4.9k)

prev — masterlist / ao3 — next

reblogs are appreciated!

The Opera Epiclese was almost always a circus — sometimes in the most literal sense of the word. But this event was on another level entirely.

The epicenter of Fontaine's rich history on Erinnyes played host to a menagerie of pastels, frills, cuffs, and nonsense. A sea of nobles and hopefuls swarmed the Court of Fontaine from Marcotte Station all the way to the Fountain of Lucine — a mass of the nation's wealthiest, most ambitious, and most eligible young people, escorted here and there by older family members with varying degrees of investment, twirling and sipping and gossiping.

The jets hidden within the overlapping layers of shallow pools spouted pillars of crystalline water, casting an almost imperceptible mist over the whole courtyard, granting it an ethereal charm and allure not befitting such fatuous rituals. A flood of rainbow roses, lumidouce bells, marcottes, and activated romaritimes bloomed raucously over every inch of the gardens, their aroma thick but not unpleasant, their petals offering a lush natural carpet for the venue — not that there was enough space between the milling crowd to appreciate it. Cuihua trees bursting with bulle fruit lined the perimeter, the little citruses begging to be picked, only protected by the unspoken high society rule that to do so would be unbecoming. A small quartet of violins stood before the fountain itself, playing a light-hearted and airy song to accompany the festivities, though not a soul was paying attention.

A few lucky (or conversely, unlucky) aristocrats may leave the Opera tonight with the promise of approaching nuptials and a happy future. Far more would simply leave with an impending hangover and some gossip on Baron Something-or-Other's latest romantic failings.

You took a dainty sip from your champagne flute. It would be more nauseating if it weren't so entertaining. You and Lady Furina seemed to have that in common — an enduring appreciation for the cyclical drama. You wondered absently if the Archon herself would make an appearance to stir something up. You hoped she would.

All the world's a stage, indeed.

You made your way across the courtyard, the click of your heels on the parquet stone drowned out by the throng; a nearby wide, stone planter in your sights. It would be as good a place as any for you to remain aloof and antisocial but still in sight of your father, who spared you a supervisory glance from where he stood with other noblemen, certainly discussing nothing of importance.

From your new perch, the noise and color and spectacle all were duller, easier to digest. You leaned against the marble and observed the sea of activity, daintily nursing your drink.

You were enjoying the time spent on your own when you heard a soft rustle of fabric to your right — a noise that would have been impossible to catch had you been any closer to the heart of the gathering. You turned in time to see a man you didn't recognize leaning against the same planter as you, looking for all the world as comfortable as if you'd invited him to be there.

You had not.

He didn't seem to belong there — that much was evident — and not just because he was an unfamiliar face. Tall and dark, his icy blue eyes were framed by a rush of thick, dark hair and a thin, crescent scar. Far from his only scar, by the looks of it — a complex network traveled down his neck and disappeared under his collar, intricate enough to rival the meticulous lacework that had cost your father a pretty mora at the boutique — despite your insistence that such costs were wholly unnecessary. The stranger's suit, a well-tailored gray and black ensemble, was partially obscured by a fussy, fur-lined coat. His burgundy tie was ever-so-slightly crooked, making your fingers twitch with the urge to adjust it. A desire no doubt born of the years you had been doing the very same for father.

Even under the warmth of the setting summer sun, he seemed to radiate a chill that brought goosebumps to your exposed arms.

If he'd ever been at an event before this one, there was no way you could have forgotten him. He seemed the type to linger in someone's mind long after he left a room.

He tilted a polite smile down at you.

"Good afternoon, miss," he greeted in a voice altogether too friendly to match his intimidating countenance.

"Charmed," you clipped. You gave him an appraising look, not rushing the path your eyes made up his frame, from the clunky boots, ill-suited for the occasion, to the silver streaks in his hair he didn't seem quite old enough for yet. He had the dignity not to cower under your inspection. "I'm afraid this flowerbed is occupied, sir. Please find your own."

His smile shifted and was clearly meant to look apologetic. You weren't convinced. "I'm afraid I can't."

You lifted a brow. If nothing else, this could be an entertaining interlude from the pomp and circumstance. "And why not?"

He cleared his throat, nodding in the direction of some hedges across the way. You flicked your eyes over discreetly, just in time to catch a head of blonde hair and another of jet curls disappearing behind the greenery, followed by stage whispers that surely they didn't think were quiet. Didn't they?

"You see," he began in a lower tone, clearly having better mastered the art of not being overheard than your spectators. "There is a gaggle of lovely but persistent young women in pursuit of me at this very moment, and I'd very much like to be engaged in conversation with someone else in order to postpone my torment. I'd be in your debt if you could look engrossed in this discussion for just long enough that they lose interest and find someone else to prey upon."

You hummed thoughtfully, watching now ginger curls leaning incautiously from behind the hedge, green eyes landing viciously on you and the interloper before vanishing once more. Just how many girls were hiding behind there?

"Oh?" you said, raising the glass to your lips with a smirk. "Not interested in sampling their scintillating conversation skills? Are you not here in search of a partner?"

"No, I'm not," he responded good-naturedly, running a hand through the artfully tousled sweep of his hair. "I have no intentions to marry at present."

You hmphed, twirling the flute in a gloved hand. "Yet here you are," you said, softly flicking the glass in his general direction, the tiny whirlpool you'd gotten going interrupted. You did not bother to conceal your skepticism. "Tolerating the vagaries of a high society debutante ball. And you'd tell a complete stranger this, because...?"

He leaned in, conspiratorial. "I am here as a matter of obligation only. Politics. Appearances. You understand." He returned back to his former stance, expression neutral, resting lazily against the polished marble. "Let's just say I'm sharp enough to recognize a kindred spirit when I see one."

You could feel yourself reflecting the same curiosity that danced in his eyes against your better judgment. This exchange was turning out to be interesting. "A kindred spirit, is it?"

"Indeed," he said. "Judging by the fact that you are also skulking in this corner and don't seem to have any more interest in mingling at this event than I do."

"I do not 'skulk'," you responded, unamused at his word choice. "And while I'd ask you to separate me from your assumptions, you aren’t incorrect. I'm also here only because it is expected of me."

He looked pleased with himself at your confirmation, and now dealt you the same appraisal you'd previously subjected him to with a calculating stare. You fought the urge to fidget under his evaluation, finding it beyond frustrating to have no idea what he was thinking behind his amicable yet inscrutable exterior. "Is that so? It is not often you see a noble lady uninvested in the affairs of the court."

You bristled, fighting the urge to furrow your eyebrows in a way you'd been told by many etiquette coaches was 'unflattering'. "There are greater aspirations to have beyond being a pretty little thing for some nobleman to set on his trophy shelf. Even for so-called 'noble ladies'."

He laughed then, a short, surprised burst. The sound was rich, reverberating in your bones. "My apologies. Please don't misunderstand, my curiosity tends to get the better of me. Indulge me?"

You sniffed, turning away from him once more to observe the hedge across the path — it seemed quiet enough now that the ladies within must have moved on like he'd hoped they would. Your chin lifted of its own accord as you flicked your eyes back to him. "I'm not interested in discussing my life aspirations with a man who lacks the good manners to even introduce himself first."

His mouth pulled up at one corner. "Are you sure the exchange of such confidential information would be of equal value?"

You held your stance, unfazed. "That will be for me to decide, sir."

"Very well." He inclined his head, an earnest hand pressed to his chest. "I am Wriothesley, Duke of the Fortress of Meropide. It is an honor to make your acquaintance."

You felt the color leave your face and your fingers go dead cold. This man — the Duke of Meropide, of all things — watched cheerfully as you hurried into polite obeisance. Damn it all. You hadn't exactly been courteous with the man. "Your Grace. The honor is mine."

His eyes still shone with mirth as you straightened. "Please, no need for such formalities. My mistake for — ah, what was it you said?'' he pondered, eyes drifting off in mock thought as you waited, drenched in miserable anticipation. "Right! ‘Not having the good manners to introduce myself first’."

Your cheeks warmed and you forced back a rush of frustration with yourself. "My apologies, I — I meant no disrespect," you said, gathering your composure. "You are not at all what I pictured, Your Grace. I hadn't known you were to attend a society function here on the surface."

"Tragically, society functions below the Fontemer are in short supply," he said sardonically. "And please, don't apologize, it's not often one gets to enjoy a chat with a charming, spirited stranger. What's your name?"

You offer it with another small nod. "My father is the Viscount Vellerot."

As if on cue, you faintly heard your father's voice calling your name from somewhere amidst the hustle and bustle; evidently he'd lapsed in his duty as your chaperone — once again — and had lost track of you. You weren't sure what it was he may want, though; clearly something must have come up to remind him of his purpose at this party. That was generally the way of things.

You tended to prefer being forgotten.

"And that would be him calling for me now," you explained as you pushed yourself from the planter and stepped past him. "This flowerbed is all yours. It was a pleasure to hide from the gaggle of lovely women with you, Your Grace. Good luck avoiding them for the rest of the evening."

He chuckled, a sheepish smile on his face. "The pleasure was all mine, my lady," he said. "But don't think I've forgotten our deal. You still owe me an answer."

With a vague smile and a polite curtsy, you disappeared back into the crowd, leaving the duke still leaning against the flowerbed.

Turns out, your father had only wished to introduce you to yet another son of yet another powerful acquaintance of his. His hopeful eyes as he sent the two of you off to dance only made it harder to turn the boy down, even if he were several years your junior and an entitled brat to boot. Your father truly only wanted your happiness, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him his efforts were in vain. This young noble wasn't the first you'd ever had to reject, and you unfortunately very much doubted he'd be the last — though you hoped he would, at least, be the last for that particular soirèe.

It turned out that would not be the case either, but you tried to keep an approximation of optimism anyway.

The one thing more sure than the line of people begging your attention — for want of your dowry and the association with your family, not anything to do with you, mind — was the tidal wave of whispers that had begun to take over the flow of the neverending gossip. It hadn't taken long for the news to spread —

Did you hear? This event has a special guest —

The Duke of Meropide is here? He must finally be looking for a duchess…

Come, Anne, allow me to introduce you to the duke. Fix your gloves, we want to make a good impression. Let me put this flower in your hair — maybe he will ask you for a dance!

Slowly, all the usual chirping melted away into one, resounding sentiment from all corners of the court — the Duke of Meropide is here, and he will be mine.

None of them knew what you did. You did your best to conceal your smile at the knowledge that all their posturing and peacocking was an investment in vain. Just as it was when their artless schemes were directed at you.

Afternoon melted into evening and you'd been idling away the hours, chatting to and dancing with and entertaining people who you didn't have the privilege to inform were wasting their time with you, longing to be anywhere else.

You finally seized enough of an opening to flee the courtyard proper for a moment of respite in a blooming hedge maze, as the gathering at the top of the grand stone steps was dying down and getting ready to migrate to the beautiful, opulent expanse of the Icewind Suite for the evening's grand finale. You found a remote, hidden spot and sat heavily, removing a shoe so you could massage the soles of your aching, overworked feet.

A branch snapped nearby and you whipped your head in its direction, heart thundering, to find the individual responsible for interrupting your moment of rest.

You should have known.

"We meet again," said the duke with a dip of his head.

"We do indeed," you said from where you were seated, letting your foot drop. Even in the dim lighting of the garden, you could see the man looked worn. Delight pulled at your lips at his evident misfortune. "Enjoying your evening?"

He sighed, a long, drawn-out, heartfelt sound. "Can't say that I am," he admitted.

You smiled ruefully. "That makes two of us. These events are nothing if not a test of our constitution." A yawning silence expanded between you and you slipped your heel back on, standing with a small stretch. You brushed down your dress. "I will return to the group. I really shouldn't be seen here with you without my chaperone, Your Grace. It wouldn't be proper."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't you ever get fatigued by these stuffy, outdated rules?"

"Every day," you said wryly. "But the rules still exist, and I have a reputation to uphold. I can't be thought to have been compromised. There are always sharp eyes waiting for someone to slip."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, keen eyes glinting, in a gesture all too calculating for your liking. "Why risk coming out here alone at all?" he asked. "What if a person with bad intentions were to come looking for you? Someone who might wish to 'compromise' you?"

"A person other than you?" you retorted. "All I know of your intentions is that they do not include marriage, yet here you are anyway. Who's to say what your intentions truly are?"

He frowned. "Point taken," he conceded. "Though I assure you, they are nothing untoward. You didn't answer my question."

Your smile was scornful. "Fear not, Your Grace, for I am quite sure no one at this party could present any real physical threat to me. Of course, we are all always subject to the whims of the rumor mill, and I'm afraid that could do much more damage to me than any wealthy man in tights ever could."

His lips twitched in amusement. "Physical?" he remarked. "You grow more intriguing with every word."

"I am quite skilled, sir, both with a sword and without," you replied, a proud tilt to your chin.

He hummed thoughtfully, nodding. "That brings our deal back to mind. What is it you'd do instead, if not play along with these society games?"

You considered him for a long moment. His curiosity seemed genuine. You saw no reason to lie or disguise the truth. "I'd become a Champion Duelist."

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly before his smile broadened. "How about that?"

Your eyes narrowed, leaning forward into his space just slightly. "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all," he assured with a dismissive wave and a light, surprised laugh. "Just caught off guard."

You huffed and leaned back, allowing the remainder of your defensiveness to drain away. "Miss Clorinde is an acquaintance of my father, as it sometimes seems everyone in Fontaine is," you said, dry. "She has been gracious enough to join me in training from time to time. Of course, that will slow considerably during the social season while I trade in my boots for heels and my fencing ripostes for verbal ones."

He looked lost in thought for a moment. "I knew nothing about the aristocracy before receiving my title — it wasn't part of the curriculum for urchins, believe it or not. But in all my studies since, I've never once heard of a member of the inherent nobility leaving their seat for such a role."

"There is a first for all things," you said airily. "I had forgotten you come from, uh, humble beginnings. Your studies must have been quite intensive."

"I do, and they were. They still are. There's a lot about all of this I still find kinda baffling. My 'humble beginnings' are unfortunately part of the reason I have to make appearances this season," he said, tone ringing resentful. "It seems not all of our peers are pleased that a former… commoner with an honorary title is in the position I'm in. There are those interested in incorporating the Fortress as an official Fontainian entity — a government-managed facility. The question of my legitimacy is only helping their case when I haven't participated at court in any formal capacity as Duke."

You pondered his words for a moment. "So the rumors are true? This truly is your first time ever attending a society function?"

He nodded, his nose wrinkling with distaste. "It is, and it seems no amount of reading could have prepared me for it. The Iudex suggested that making a point of looking for a wife of noble birth, genuine or otherwise, might be enough to keep the wolves at bay, at least until the nobility votes to solidify or dissolve the Fortress of Meropide's autonomy, and by extension, my position as its administrator. He said if I wished to sway the vote my way, then I'd have to convince them I belong." He grimaced. "And that I’d have to consider making some sacrifices to do so.”

"I can't say that I'm surprised," you said. "These people value one thing above all else — their own superiority. Anything that threatens that, threatens them. If you were to form a connection with a strong family, the fuss would surely die down. No one wants to be on the bad side of those more powerful than they are."

The duke hummed. "Then Lord Thibeault must think he is very threatened indeed. I've been feeling a bit like a fish quite literally out of water. Would it be improper of me to say I miss my fortress?"

You snorted, unladylike. "He's the ring leader? Lord Thibeault must have far too much time on his hands if he is available to cause as much trouble as he does."

"You're familiar?"

"'Familiar' is one way of putting it. Lord Thibeault is a busybody and a wretch. He can't bear to see anything fresh or interesting shake up his beloved court or upset the status quo he holds so dear."

"So it seems," the duke said thoughtfully, letting a quiet beat pass. "Your aspiration was a pleasant surprise. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"It is only a secret by necessity," you sighed. "Not because I'd like it to be. What was your expectation?"

"I didn't have any expectations,” he said. His mouth curved into a roguish grin. “Never do. That's what makes the wait so good. I love cliffhangers."

You laughed. "I'd hate to have kept you in suspense. Sadly, the endless cycles of dancing and tea and etiquette classes will leave me little time to continue my training over the coming months, so my dream will remain just that: a dream."

"Why do you do it, then?” he asked, cocking his head. “Continue enduring all this nonsense?"

"As I said before, it is my duty,” you said slowly, wilting. A familiar feeling of defeat sank into your bones. “It would set a bad precedent if I didn't. I have two younger sisters and my father is a good man who only wants us to be happy, but he is getting on in years and... well. If I were to dishonor our family by abandoning them before they were situated, I could never forgive myself."

His eyebrows drew together and you could see his gears turning. "That's why you continue to take part?"

"Yes. I just need to somehow find a way to avoid any... obligations until they are in safe, happy situations, and then maybe I can be free. They are only just behind me in years, so it won't be that long. If all goes according to plan, a few years, maybe. Otherwise, as there is no male heir, my sisters would be at the next Viscount Vellerot's mercy when my father passes, whoever he may be once he is named. I will not risk their futures for my own selfishness."

The duke frowned. "I don't think wanting to pursue what would make you happy should be considered selfish."

You shrugged. "Nevertheless, if I want to make sure my sisters are taken care of, I likely will eventually need to secure the hand of a respectable man, my own wishes be damned,” you sighed. “I suppose I just can’t help but to naively hope for something more."

He looked to be lost in thought, arms crossed in front of his chest, tapping a considering finger on his chin, a tap-tap-tap that set your teeth on edge and filled your with a sense of foreboding. His eyes, looking at something far off in the distance, eventually focused back on your own as he came to some hidden conclusion in his mind.

"And what of a duke?" he offered.

You blinked, your mind hurrying to understand the implication of his words, yet failing to do so. "Something on your mind, Your Grace?"

"I have a proposition for you."

You looked at him intently. "And what would that be? This isn't going to be another ill-fated proposal, is it?” you scolded. “I thought you were supposed to be smarter than that."

"Oh, not at all," he said, dangerous eyes holding yours in a vice grip. "We could pretend to form an attachment."

You found yourself temporarily at a loss for words. You heard him, knew the meaning of each word in solitude, but strung together in such a fashion they felt like mismatching puzzle pieces, the completed landscape out of reach. "What do you mean?"

He began to pace in the small clearing, gesturing with his arms as he unfolded the inner workings of his mind. "We are both uninterested in marriage and yet forced to give the impression that we are. I need the lords and ladies of the court to believe I have found my duchess to cement my legitimacy as the duke until we secure the Fortress of Meropide’s autonomy. You need them to believe that you are searching for a respectable husband to maintain your, and by extension, your family's good reputation until your sisters have found happy matches. Who could be more suited to our respective needs than each other?"

"You're suggesting a ruse?" you whispered, scandalized. “Are you crazy?”

"Perfectly sane,” he continued. “What I'm suggesting is that we let the people believe we are precisely what we are — respectably off-the-market."

You began to shake your head in disbelief, wanting to back away but finding your legs refusing to obey your command. "Your proposition is ridiculous."

"It's perfect,” he said with conviction. “What better way is there to keep the wolves at bay than to lower the gates? Plus — you understand more about how to blend into society than I could ever hope to, and let's just say that with my background, I could offer a hand in your training. We can help each other.”

“The season won’t last forever,” you pointed out. "And when autumn comes around?"

"Oh, that’s the beauty of it. We go our separate ways," he said, eyes gleaming like he was telling an inside joke no one in Teyvat other than the two of you could ever understand. "It didn't work out! It happens."

You laughed, incredulous, an unfamiliar feeling beginning to fill your chest.

"There are sure to be reporters for the Steambird here,” he said. “One dance in the Icewind Suite, and you and I will be the cover story of tomorrow's paper. Then, no one will touch us."

You blinked, running through every possible outcome and scenario in your mind, but — steadily, the pros began to outweigh the cons. You could continue your training. You would have to invest significantly less of your time at these Celestia-forsaken events and not sacrifice anything for either yourself or your sisters in the process. A smile crept onto your lips as the feeling in your chest reached a crescendo — it was hope, a happy, buoyant feeling you were always afraid to let yourself feel.

"This really could work, couldn’t it?" you asked softly.

His smile looked truly genuine for the first time that evening as he offered you his arm. "It will work."

Your arm was looped through the duke's as you made your way down the stairs towards the Icewind Suite, the path lined with lit lamp posts and romaritimes and gawking attendees. The hydro blooms were releasing an array of colorful, opalescent bubbles into the cooling night air, making the latest turn of events feel even more surreal than they already did. The usual residents of the Suite were nowhere to be seen, likely decommissioned, their eternal waltz paused so they could make room for the evening's closing event — and some select charades.

The crowd hushed as you stepped past, a wave of quiet rolling downwards, and you could feel the weight of dozens of curious eyes on you. With each step, arm in arm with the duke, it seemed that more and more attention broke away to hone in on you. You wondered vaguely if your father was anywhere among them — you wondered what he thought. You managed to spot Lord Thibeault in the throng — a disapproving scowl pulled at his wizened face.

Finally, the two of you reached the ground, the shimmering sea of polished marble spread out before you, empty but for the reflection of the night sky in its depths. It waited for you, the symbol of a successful evening of new partnerships and futures to be shared. You’d seen many a pair spin upon this floor — never once had it been you. You had never intended for it to ever be you.

All the world’s a stage, after all.

The duke gently shifted your body so that the two of you were facing one another. He bowed, an elegant bending of his knees and lowering of his head, far more graceful than a man who had his history etched into his skin should be capable of. He made it look effortless.

Icy blue seized you as he straightened back up, eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly at the corners. "Might I have this dance?" he asked, holding out a hand.

His mirror, you curtsied, slow and deliberate. You smiled, a small and surreptitious thing, and placed your gloved hand in his. "You may. Don't trip on your feet now, Your Grace. Rule number one for fitting into high society — you must be as graceful and confident in a ballroom as you are on a battlefield."

He pulled you in closer; too close to be strictly proper. "Call me Wriothesley. We want this to be convincing, don’t we?” he murmured into your ear. Another pulse of low whispers spread throughout the spectators as a few more pairs joined you on the Icewind Suite. “And you wound me, my lady. I think you will find my performance to be more than satisfactory.”

You swallowed thickly. "That remains to be seen, Wriothesley. Let's hope you can convince them better than you can me."

The grand ballroom and every last soul within held their breath as the duke placed a rough, scarred hand on the small of your back. You could feel the weight of it through layers of thin lace and silk as you wove your free hand under his arm and anchored it against the back of his broad shoulder. Your fingers on his back felt inexplicably cold, but the rest of your body burned hot. Your heart pounded. Your eyes locked onto his. Time came to a standstill.

“I intend to,” he said.

The music began to play, and you allowed him to lead.

a/n: so here she is!! i am really excited to get into this one, and i know there was a bit borrowed here from bridgerton itself, tho i promise this is where most of the direct similarities will end. i simply wanted to pay homage to where this idea initially came from <;3 hope you all enjoy

i didn't initially plan to have a taglist for this one, but if there are enough requests for one, i'll consider it. if anyone knows of a better way to notify people when i update (besides pointing them to ao3, anyway) im all ears

til next time!

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wrio #wrio x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #reader inserts #reader insert #lark.writes #🌊

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symptomofgout · 1 year

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the narrative of kaveh being an idiot is so baffling to me because he is, quite literally, canonically considered a genius…? why is the popular consensus “6000 IQ alhaitham and his lovably stupid roommate kaveh” when every npc commenting on kaveh refers to his intellect & talent, the literal god of wisdom says kaveh has an “almost-perfect grasp of what it truly means for sumeru to be a nation of wisdom” (whereas she questions alhaitham’s wisdom in her line about him), and alhaitham’s own story profile calls kaveh a genius multiple times??? like the whole point is that he’s alhaitham’s intellectual equal despite having entirely separate worldviews and demeanors, which frustrates alhaitham to no end — ‘how can someone so smart do all of these things that, to me, are so evidently stupid?’ the takeaway from their dynamic should NOT be kaveh is dumb, but rather that empathy and emotion aren’t actually the opposites of logic and intelligence, but sadly both alhaitham and the realm of academia as a whole are too blinded by their own definitions of logic to fully realize that.

tl;dr kaveh is not dumb by any standards and i will prove it

(under the cut: quotes/screenshots/etc proving this + more. please spread the gospel and dispel ignorance. amen)

some npc voicelines (there are more but i’m lazy):

these are pretty self-explanatory — kaveh is a widely-renowned scholar, architect, and engineer throughout sumeru. he graduated from the akademiya with flying colors, students were desperate to take his classes, etc.

nahida’s voicelines:

both are intelligent but only one is wise: kaveh. alhaitham is too restricted by his narrow definition of wisdom (read: what he deems ‘logical’) to look beyond himself and grasp that there’s more to intellect and knowledge than pure cold rationality. he can’t comprehend that empathy and intellect aren’t fundamentally incompatible — in fact, they’re best when put hand in hand. kaveh is one of the few scholars capable of valuing emotions, empathy, and artistic endeavors, while the rest of the akademiya closes themselves off to that entire realm of knowledge from the get-go. this is what makes kaveh uniquely wise, and what alhaitham lacks. until you understand that emotions and logic can and should coexist, you won’t be successful in the true pursuit of knowledge.

last but not least:

alhaitham’s profile (worth noting that profile stories are pretty much the most reliable source of information on characters’ true beliefs and opinions — their voicelines are still them putting on acts in front of the traveler, but these stories are told from the perspective of an omniscient narrator and are likely closer to the truth):

“two geniuses.” and even after their falling out, “neither of them will deny the other party’s exceptional brilliance” — meaning alhaitham considers kaveh to be exceptionally brilliant. point blank. in the text bro

hilarious line — it’s basically alhaitham saying he doesn’t understand how someone with kaveh’s talent and intellect could have a personality/worldview so different from haitham’s. ‘how can someone that smart be so annoying!!!!!’ and ofc by values we know it’s referring to kaveh’s idealism, empathy, and affinity for the arts

alhaitham considers kaveh to be “another genius,” someone who is so much his intellectual equal that he’s “an excellent mirror” for alhaitham. it’s like an experiment for him — the initial question is “how can someone as smart as me care about all of these things i’ve always believed to be worthless,” the subjects are kaveh and alhaitham, the controlled variable is their intellect. because their intellect is the same, alhaitham is able to study their differences (can’t attribute said differences to varying intellect). alhaitham would never say it out loud — and luckily he doesn’t need to bc his character story tells us — but he’s deeply fascinated by kaveh bc kaveh’s very existence is a threat to haitham’s worldview, & he’s letting kaveh stay with him bc through kaveh, alhaitham learns about not just himself but the outside world and humanity as a whole, and as a scholar, there’s nothing more valuable. (also because he feels comfortable with kaveh [“he’s a familiar face”] and they’re both lonely [“similarly lacks familial attachments”] lol these two are never beating the We Know You Don’t Actually Hate Each Other allegations but that’s a different point so i digress)

IN CONCLUSION:

this is all just the TEXTUAL evidence — people saying “kaveh is smart” — and doesn’t even include all of the obvious implicit signs of kaveh’s intellect (no one who graduates from the akademiya w honors and teaches classes there could be anything other than incredibly intelligent, al “i don’t do anything that i don’t want to do” “i’m not going to bother explaining it to you because you won’t understand” haitham not only puts up with but actively seeks out debates with kaveh which he absolutely would not do if he didn’t respect him or consider him to be of roughly equal intellect, look at the debates he has w alhaitham on sumeru messageboards and TELL ME those messages sound like they were written by an idiot or itto or something [you cant], etc etc etc).

and also this is all from 3.3 (+ 3.4 alhaitham leaks)! we don’t even know kaveh’s rarity yet, that’s how far he is from being playable, but there’s already this much information on just how smart he is! it’s the main thing we know about him — 1) he’s smart, 2) he’s passionate/driven by what he feels is right! why does that keep turning into “LOL HOTHEADED HIMBO”??!

okay look. this is all so extra i know. BUT. i must set the record straight now (god knows it’ll only get worse the closer we get to kaveh’s release) because this sudden-onset mass illiteracy within genshin players is going to send me to an early grave. feel free to use as a resource and educate the ignorant so kaveh does not end up reduced to a one-note meme dumb guy when literally that’s just… not even in the game. i mean at least other annoying OOC fandom interpretations have basis in the game but genshin literally tells u every time it gets the opportunity that Kaveh Is Just As Smart As Alhaitham Because Cold Rationality Does Not Equal Wisdom/Intelligence and losing that would be such a crime because it is by far the most interesting n promising thing hoyo has done with new characters in ages! like, not only are they funny and entertaining, not only are they fascinating incredible foils for one another, but they’re used to make a much-needed argument against the prevalent hegemony of mindless rationality and our “logical” society’s illogical fear of emotion/empathy. but yeah sure, theyre just itto & ayato 2.0, i guess. god. the lack of reading comprehension among genshin players is literally an epidemic

#frustrating me to no end. miss the entire point of their dynamic and characters as a whole why don’t you #literally this isn’t ‘shipping goggles’ or anything it’s just … knowing how to read. not looking for subtext just literally reading the text #kaveh #genshin impact #genshin #genshin kaveh #genshin impact leaks #alhaitham #haikaveh #kavetham #kavehtham #genshin meta #i hope ppl see this bc it Needs To Be Said but sadly it will probably get like 10 notes. BUT STILL. i will try #fr the narrative needs to change i don’t think i can take five months of people on reddit characterizing him as th watson to hthm’s sherlock #yeah maybe if watson was a fucking genius too!!!#long post #(under the cut lol)#100 #500

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