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dira333 · 5 months

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The Road Not Taken - part 16

Shibi x female reader with a name - arranged marriage

Summary: Airi Nara seems a hopeless case, until her grandmother sets her up for an arranged marriage. But was marrying Shibi Aburame the right choice after all?

Masterlist ; Character sheet

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The change in your household is subtle yet obvious.

Tsume smiles every time she sees you, a knowing, teasing smile that dances across her lips. So far you’ve managed to keep her silent, but you doubt her self-restraint will hold much longer.

Yori has yet to reappear on your doorstep, giving you some time to come to terms with your conflicting feelings toward her.

As a Clan-elder, you’re expected to show her respect. But, as both Shikaku and Shibi have pointed out, you’re no longer part of the Nara-Clan.

You owe her gratitude, for bringing you up when no one else would and for arranging the marriage that has brought you so much happiness, but you no longer owe her your blind obedience. Maybe you never did.

Shibi has started to get up later in the mornings.

He quite enjoys staying in bed as long as he possibly can, awake yet unmoving, holding you close until one of the boys or both start making noise.

You’ve been trying to make him see the sweet joy of taking a bath together, quietly planning a short trip to the Onsen for when Shino’s advanced training officially starts. It’s slow progress, but it’s progress.

You started working one week after your return from the mission, your leg still in a brace. It’s only two mornings a week so far and you can take Shino with you if you want, though he seems less interested in the hospital every time you take him with you.

Rika’s been a godsend, never once batting an eye when you flinch at loud noises or Iruka comes in with Naruto for a private check-up that’s mainly just a chat and a shared lunch box.

Even Akane stops by once, her face still pretty pale.

“I heard you started working again.” She looks at your leg brace that’s peeking out from under the table. “How are you doing?”

“It’s good.” You nod at your little office. “Quiet, too. But I think I owe you a thanks. I’m sure I wouldn’t have this job without you.”

Akane shakes her head. “I didn’t do anything for you. I know your husband. I knew he’d pull the necessary strings. The Hospital can’t operate without the generous donations coming from various Clans. I’m not an expert on that matter, but I think the Aburame Clan donates quite a substantial amount.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t. I did what I could do for Iruka. He deserves it. Tell him so when you see him next.” She gets up again. “Oh, by the way… did you take a look at the scroll when you had it?”

You furrow your brows. “No? Why would I? I don’t even know what it was supposed to be.”

“Hmm.” Akane doesn’t look convinced. You sigh.

“Don’t tell me I got the wrong scroll.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because that would be typical. Going through all the hassle of getting that scroll and then I didn’t even check if it was the right one. Not that I would have been able to make sure of it anyway with my limited knowledge.”

“Well…” Akane clears her throat. “I’m no expert either. But I was questioned about it this week. I did take a look and from what I could tell I thought it was the right scroll. But Danzo’s convinced it’s a fake.”

You sigh. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, right?”

Akane nods, the movement tight.

“Are you okay, though?” You ask. “You’re still very pale. Are you getting the rest you should?”

“Oh, yes. I’m fine. I’ve always been rather pale.” She sends you a tight smile. “By the way, Rock was asking if he could come over sometime and meet you and your kids. I told him a bit about you.”

“Oh, of course. Shino’s not that keen on making friends and Torune’s not to be touched for various reasons, but I’d love to meet him. I’ll talk to Shibi and get back to you, is that okay?”

She nods, taking one last look at you before she leaves with a wave of her hand.

There’s something strange about her visit, but you can’t put your finger on it.

Two days later you hear about her departure. All you know is that she’s sent out on another mission.

“Much too early,” her husband bemoans when you talk to him. “But you’ve met Akane.” He tells you with a smile. “She can never sit still.”

You only hear of her death a week after it has happened. There’s no more talk about Rock Lee visiting.

“Have fun today,” you brush your hand through Shino’s hair, wondering absentmindedly if you’re clinging to him for his comfort or yours. “I’ve got a surprise for you later.”

“Can you come with us?” Shino asks. He’s very proud of the new coat he’s gotten, he’s told you all about it three times today.

You look at Shibi for input, but he shakes his head.

“Today it’s just us.”

“You can tell me everything when you come back, okay?” You press a kiss to Shino’s temple. “I’m very curious. I still remember my first training with my Dad.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Shino asks. You can tell he’s trying his best to waste time.

“Sure, when you come back. Come on, give me a hug and then it’s time to go.”

He hugs you tight, sniffles a little into your neck.

“I’m very proud of you.” You tell him when you see him off.

Twenty minutes after he’s left there’s a knock on the door.

You half expect them to be back already, that Shino’s stubbornness won out in the ned.

It’s Chiasa instead.

“Shibi took Shino out for training,” you explain. She nods and points in the direction of the kitchen with her chin.

“Oh, sure, come in if you need anything-” She sidesteps you and you bite back a sigh.

Chiasa is never rude, but her quiet assertiveness is sometimes hard to take. You suppose you could have worse mothers-in-law, but you often wonder what she sees in you. If she likes you or just deals with the fact that you’re here.

“Ah,” another voice calls out, sending a shiver down your back, “You’re home.”

You turn to see Yori march up the path to your house. You haven’t seen her since that dreaded mission. It’s been almost a month but you could have taken a longer break from her.

“Hello, Yori.”

“Your leg’s all healed, I see?” She asks. “Can I come in?”

Considering her usual way of greeting, that’s almost nice.

“Sure,” you say, because there’s only Lunch to prepare today, as well as the laundry and you can’t run away from her forever, “Chiasa is here too.”

“Ah,” Yori pushes past you with the grace of a hungry deer sniffing food. “How nice. I was wondering when we could all have tea together.”

“Chiasa?” You turn toward the kitchen. “Yori is here. Would you mind having tea with us?”

“That’s not the way to ask, Child!” Yori points out. “Aburame-san, how nice to see you again. How’s your health?”

Chiasa nods instead of speaking, her dark sunglasses reflecting Yori’s forced smile.

“I’ll make tea,” you rush forward, eager to get your hands busy. “Does anyone want something sweet? I’ve made Honeyglazed Apple.”

“I suppose it’s understandable that you’ve got a sweet tooth with your condition.”

Chiasa’s eyes flick over to you at Yori’s words. You can feel sweat forming at your collar. Right, just what you wanted. Your grandmother and your mother-in-law discussing your fertility.

“About that,” you start, unable to look one of them in the eyes, “I’m not actually pregnant. It was just a silly rumor.”

“Well, just because you’re not pregnant now doesn’t mean you won’t be pregnant soon.”

You tense. Somehow Yori’s even worse to handle when she’s trying to be supportive. All you feel is dread as you wait for the other shoe to drop.

“Maybe we could talk about a different topic,” you ask quietly, not daring to raise your voice.

“Please speak up,” Yori orders immediately. Chiasa must have heard you, however, because her eyes are on you. You can feel her stare despite the sunglasses hiding her emotions.

“How is work?” Chiasa asks so suddenly you almost drop the teapot you just picked up.

“It’s uh, nice.” You swallow thickly. “Plenty of stuff to do. They’ve asked me to come in two more mornings if possible.”

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” Yori asks.

You think about the disappointment you’d felt days prior when you’d gotten your period. You think about Shino showing off his new coat he got for training. You think of Torune’s who’s going to be home in a few hours, trailing after you like a shy cat.

You lick your lips and say something else.

“It’s going to be Spring soon enough. I need to talk about it with Shibi first to make sure I won’t leave work here unattended.”

“Sure, sure,” Yori huffs, clearly displeased by your answer, “You need to talk with your husband. But your job at the hospital is a prestigious one. You shouldn’t swap it with playing housewife.”

“No one said I was.” You point out, hurt clawing at your throat. Maybe you’d love to play housewife. Would that be so wrong?

“And don’t forget about your Clan,” Yori soldiers on. “Ayame just asked yesterday when you’d be back around. There’s no one as talented as you when it comes to her therapy.”

You blink in surprise. Next to you, Chiasa seems busy with her plate of apple slices though. You wonder if this is a test. At least on Chiasa’s side. She’s just letting you blunder on, judging you silently behind those dark shades.

But even if she wasn’t there, you’d be hard-pressed to say something.

You can’t go on like this forever, with Yori. You have to put up some boundaries someday.

Your heart beats thunderously as you take a seat.

“Yori,” you start, focusing on a stubborn stray hair in her eyebrows to keep safe from her stare. “I am no longer a Nara. I am an Aburame now.”

“Nonsense,” Yori waves her hand around, “You’re both. That’s what this marriage was for. To bring our Clan’s closer together.”

“Maybe. But I am also human. I cannot fulfill the duties of two Clan members. I have to prioritize one. If Ayame wants to continue her therapy through me, she’ll have to see me at the hospital like everyone else.”

Yori falls silent. She has been remarkably well-behaved up until now, probably because Chiasa’s in the room with you. But how far does that self-control go?

“Are you really this ungrateful?” Yori’s voice has turned cold. Your already tense body stills completely, the muscles in your neck screaming in pain. “You wouldn’t be married at all without me, still hoping for some fool to notice you. And how are you repaying me for all the work I took on, for all the good I did for you? Just because you can play mother and wife now doesn’t mean you’re suddenly someone new! You’ve always been lazy, good for nothing, like your father-”

“Leave.” Your mouth is dry and your voice sounds rough around the edges, but there’s enough determination in the single word to stop Yori’s lecture.

“What did you say?” She asks, her face full of surprise. Chiasa next to you is silent. Your hands are shaking, but you know you can’t go on like this. Should she be opposed to your decision, there’s nothing you can do about that but trust that Shibi will have your back.

“I am grateful. You have brought me up when I had no one else and you were the one who pushed for this marriage to be possible. But I will no longer let you treat me like a doormat. Leave. You are no longer welcome here.”

“I-” Yori’s speechless, a rare occurrence. She grabs her coat and storms toward the door nonetheless, something you’re incredibly thankful for. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to keep up the strong facade, how soon you’ll break down crying.

“Shikaku will hear about this!” She crows and slams the door shut.

Silence fills the room after her departure.

You can feel Chiasa’s eyes on you just as the first tears trickle down your cheeks.

“Did I do the right thing?” You ask before you curl into yourself at the table.

Chiasa does not speak for a while, but she rests one hand on your shoulder. It’s the most reassuring she’s ever been since you moved in.

“I was the one who approached Yori,” Chiasa eventually says when your tears have dried and your hands no longer shake.

“What?” You turn to look at her, but her face does not betray any emotion.

“Shibi was very lonely. He’s still young enough to have more children and I remember how it was when my husband died. It’s easy to settle into a quiet life, but it’s not necessary.”

“But Yori said…” You trail off. It would be on brand for Yori to present someone else’s idea as her own.

“It doesn’t matter in the end. To me, at least. Shibi would not have acted on it without Yori pushing for it. Why? He does not listen to his mother as much since he’s become a father.”

“He listens to you a great deal,” you tell her and you might be wrong, but you think you see her lips twitch into something like a smile.

“You are trying to get pregnant?” Chiasa asks after a few more minutes of silence. “Right?”

“How… How do you know?”

She raises her hand to show off a few of her Kikaichu. You’ve seen them before but never up close like this. They are more of a reddish color, different to Shibi’s stark black ones or Shino’s with their blueish tint.

“There are no secrets when you’re an Aburame. If you have trouble conceiving, there is a tea I can recommend. Why? It has helped me conceive Kenji after I’ve had trouble.”

You can feel your cheeks heat at the topic but you swallow down your embarrassment and nod. “That would… that would be nice, thank you.”

-.- Shibi -.-

Shino’s hanging off him like a sack of potatoes.

Every person they pass sends him a knowing smile. They’ve all been there.

They meet Torune just shy of the front door.

“How was it?” He asks, peering up at Shino. The younger boy does not answer. Shibi suspects he’s fallen asleep.

“He did very well,” he says, a quiet pride coating his words.

Torune pushes the door open for him and there you are, hands already stretched out to welcome them all.

He could get used to this, coming home to your smiling, eager face - he could do without the dried tears on your cheeks he will have to ask you about later - and the way you pull him in for a shy little kiss.

“I packed some things for us,” you declare, “So we’ll just have a quick snack and then leave for the Onsen.”

“The Onsen?” Torune asks, clearly confused. “What are we doing there?”

“It’s a family trip. Like a mini vacation. Come on now, I made us some salad. Does anyone want tea?”

You’ve already settled in the steaming water, a little too quick for his hungry eyes, laughing at the way they’re all standing there, peering cautiously into the water.

“I am wearing so few clothes,” Torune complains, keeping a safe distance from the others.

“It’s fine,” you tell him again, “I talked to Chiasa and some of the other elders. Your bugs don’t like water. So as soon as you settle in it, everyone will be fine. You can even sit on our lap if you want to.”

“Really?” Torune’s face lights up and he climbs into the pool, dipping down for good measure too.

“Do I have to?” Shino sounds less pleased at the prospect.

“How about you put your legs in first?” You offer. “You too, Shibi.”

He swallows a sigh. This is just like taking a bath, he reminds himself, just a little hotter.

As he takes a seat at the edge, legs dipped into the hot water, Torune climbs into your lap, arms slung around you like a little monkey.

“You all look really cute in your bathing trunks. I wish I could have taken a picture of you, all lined up there before. But that would be a little weird, wouldn’t it.”

Shino settles into his side. He’s tall for his age, but slender, which is often forgotten under those bulky coats.

Eventually, they both make it fully into the water.

But it doesn’t take long for the heat to get to them, especially Shino.

Shibi picks him up and lifts him out of the water, lays him onto the cool stone tiles.

“Everything okay?” You ask, worry in your voice.

“It will be. We’re not used to this kind of heat,” he explains. “We’ll just be taking a break.”

“Oh, you point at the paper screen door he had noticed before. “This door should lead into a small garden. Don’t stay out too long, but I guess you both will find something of interest in there.”

And you’re right. It doesn’t take Shino long to find two different kinds of beetles and one fat caterpillar who curls up on his palm as he shows it to you and Torune.

The older boy doesn’t seem to mind the heat. It’s not hard to tell that he would endure much more than a little heat if it meant being able to touch and be touched without risk.

After an hour or so Shibi slips back into the pool.

“If you want,” he offers Torune quietly, unsure of it himself, “We can sit together a little as well.”

Torune nods shyly and climbs into his lap, folds his long legs to fit perfectly, not unlike Okita who’s spotted a new, albeit small box to sit in. His head rests perfectly on his chest and even though it breaks his heart in a new, fresh way, Shibi can’t help but think that this might be the first time someone’s got to touch him like that since his father’s death.

And even before that… was Shiruko a man who held his son close? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t want to pry. All he can do right now is offer to be what Torune needs.

---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---

taglist: @burningbluegalaxy @sammieshuttle97 @mellophoned

@fandomhoe101 @sa-su-gay @elliotintgewoods @theshortmuffin07 @diamondtrashbag @bjem @1syd43 @shadowwolf202101blog @tictac2 @lllaw @kitty262 @mind-ya-business420 @ravenswife @oldanimefan @gaarassenshi @yariany02

#my writing #shibi x reader #shibi x oc #shibi fluff #shino fluff #torune fluff #torune aburame #shino aburame #shino #torune #shibi #aburame fluff #aburame x reader #naruto x reader #naruto fluff

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 29 days

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Thank you for answering my Origins Dragon!Marinette and Turtle!Adrien question! Please don’t worry about disagreeing with the idea; I asked for YOUR opinion and analysis on why it would OR wouldn’t work, and that’s what I got. 😌 It also made me consider meta and in-show stuff that I hadn’t before, which is cool. You mentioned wanting all of the Kwamis to be part of some sort of set of two or more, and I’d love to hear what those sets are in your head going down the full Chinese Miracle Box list and why you’d pair them together with consideration towards both the Kwami themselves and their Powers.

(Post this ask is referring to)

Oh good, I'm glad that you found it useful and not discouraging!

Talking about how to pair the Kwamis is a little tricky because of an issue that I've discussed before. That issue being that the "Chinese" miracle box seems to be about as Chinese as fortune cookies. That makes me uncomfortable because - as far as I'm aware - the Chinese zodiac is a major part of Chinese beliefs and traditions. As such, I personally feel like the box should reflect those beliefs and traditions, but I also don't know those beliefs and traditions, so I can't tell you how I'd effectively group the zodiac Kwamis in order to honor their cultural origins. I can't even be sure if my criticism is valid or just me being overly cautious!

In an ideal world where I had money to invest in this sort of thing, I'd hire a cultural consultant to work with me to design a Chinese miracle box that feels Chinese (or to tell me that I'm overthinking this and to just do whatever I want). Assuming that I'm not overreacting, this would probably mean redesigning a lot of the powers and looks so that they honor Chinese lore and not Western lore.

For example, one thing that I know for sure is that black cats are not unlucky in China. They're actually symbols of good luck (all cats are), so a Chinese box would not have the implied good luck/bad luck thing that we get with Ladybug and Chat Noir. My limited research has also raised some doubts about ladybugs being a go-to symbol of good luck or creation in China, but I'm a lot less confident about that one being a bad choice as the association may exist. I couldn't find anything definitive one way or the other. This leads me to think that, if the association exists, then it's probably a bit obscure, meaning that a Chinese box would probably go with a different animal if we were trying to be culturally accurate to what a Chinese-inspired box would really look like.

I can say with reasonable certainty that Creation is associated with the masculine yang and Destruction is associated with the feminine yin, so Tikki should possibly feel masculine to feminine Plagg. At the very least, their spots in the miracle box should probably be reversed with Plagg in the black and Tikki in the white since yin is black and yang is white?

[Image Description: center of the original miracle box showing that ladybug earrings are placed in the black part of the yin yang symbol while the black cat ring is in the white]

I also known that white rabbits being associated with time, watches, and umbrellas comes from Alice in Wonderland and not China. Are you starting to see why I'm doubting the cultural accuracy of the miracle box?

The alternate way to approach this is to remove the possible issue of Chinese culture being treated as "mystical" or nothing more than ornamentation by making the Chinese miracle box into the miracle box of no specified culture. Since that's kind of what the box already is in terms of deeper meanings and cultural ties, I think we can go that route for this discussion since we have taken a moment to acknowledge the potential issues with the box's existing design and why that's leading me to take this route as - to me - this seems to be the only way to stick to canon's lore while avoiding potential further insults to Chinese culture.

If we went to my ideal extremes with this approach, we'd actually massively cut down the number of miraculous in the box because I think that there are way too many miraculous! Who needs nineteen "unique" powers to arm and fight one villain? This is extra true since there's no real theme to the miraculous beyond the initial setup of Creation/Destruction + five random powers followed by the addition twelve more random powers with no clear ties to any culture or theme other than the look of the Kwamis that grant the powers.

But that's getting real extreme, so for this ask, we won't go there. Instead, I'll talk about some general ideas for grouping the powers that we already have and some ideas for how you could fix the randomness of our current powers to make them feel like they make sense.

To start, I love the fact that our two main heroes are supposed to be a pair power wise. That's a lovely way to approach your lore and is why I think that they should have grouped the other miraculous, too. Why are Creation and Destruction the only set? Why aren't the others in any sort of group? Why do these miraculous have the powers they do? What ties them to this box and not another box?

There are a few ways to approach pairing the other miraculous. You can come at it from a theme perspective such as the fact that both the snake and the rabbit are all about time. You can also look for opposites such as the turtle being all about defense and the dragon being more about offense. You can even go more broad and say that a given group of miraculous is all aspects of one type of power such as the peacock, the goat, and the ladybug all feeling like aspects of creation. There's really no clear way to go about this because the current powers are so freaking random!

When I approach this stuff, I don't just come up with powers. I come up with the lore and let that help guide the powers or I shape the lore around the powers I want to use until both things make sense. For example, it makes sense that Creation would have some magical being guiding it. It also makes sense that Creation would either create Destruction for balance or that they both popped into existence together so that there was always a balance. Once you have that, you say, "Okay, what other Forces would these two want in order to help guide the universe? What can't they do or what do they do consistently enough that they might want to hand it off?"

Going from there, you start to come up with ideas like maybe they wanted Time to have a physical embodiment so that they could get some guidance on the long term effects of the things that they were making, so that's Fluff coming online. But Time is a lot and they liked their balance, so maybe Sass was brought online too in order to balance Fluff with Fluff being focused on what was and what could be while Sass is focused on what is, thereby giving Fluff someone to ground her. Or maybe you even add in a third Kwami to be some sort of historian who remembers the past while Fluff is the future and Sass is the now.

Another thought path is that most things are not pure Creation or pure Destruction. You must destroy to create. When you make bread, yeast consumes sugar to create air bubbles. Creation and Destruction working together. So maybe Tikki and Plagg wanted to make "children" who could do what they couldn't do solo and that's how we got the peacock?

No matter how you go about this, I really don't think that there's a great way to explain/group all nineteen miraculous, especially if you add in the eagle and Fei's wacky prodigious with it's animal abilities. It's just too random! But I do think that there's a lot of potential in strong subsets of the ones we get in canon, especially if you're allowed to edit the powers or the Forces a bit to make them fit their supposed Force or granted power better. I've talked before about how I'd mess with Lucky Charm to remove the odd Luck association and focus on Creation and that's what I'd do with most of the miraculous because, right now, most of them don't make much sense.

For example, Ziggy - the goat - is supposed to be the Kwami of Passion and that somehow gives the power to create anything you want? I know creatives are passionate, but that still doesn't fit in my mind. It would make more sense for this to be an inspiration power like the pig or for the Force to change to Creation and Ziggy is just a lesser ladybug for some reason? And Stompp - the Ox - is Determination, but I'd actually label his shield power as an aspect of Protection, making him in some sort of pairing with the turtle. Self defense verses defense of others?

In short, the canon lore is a disaster that needs major work to feel solid which leads to lots of paths for fixing the mess. In my opinion, the best way to go about fixing it is to take the element that worked best - the Creation/Destruction pairing - and expand that out to make strong, logical lore for the other Kwamis and their associated powers. Lore that probably won't be rooted in any one culture because no culture seems to be a solid match for the lore that canon is using, which is only concerning because of the current obvious associations with China and that's not even touching on the whole Tibetan monks + Chinese culture issue. Go check out the post I linked at the start for my thoughts on that which basically sum up to, "I am not even remotely qualified to talk about this one, but it seems like a terrible idea."

(Once again, reminder that I'm not Chinese or otherwise deeply informed on Chinese culture. I'm just a person who tries her best to respect other cultures and the miracle box sets off a lot of warning bells for me. Those warning bells could always be a false positive, so you shouldn't take my thoughts as some sort of final say on this topic. Please feel free to look into this on your own and form your own opinions.

If you are Chinese or otherwise educated in these topics, then please feel free to reblog this or send an ask giving me some additional context as I really do love learning about this stuff, but it's near impossible to research! I spent a good hour talking to a local librarian trying to find books or articles in our library that talked about the Chinese zodiac from an academic perspective and we found nothing. I've got a few interlibrary loan requests out to academic libraries in our library network though and I'll follow up on this if those books end up having information that adds to the discussion.)

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #anon ask #lore discussion #I kept thinking I should bite the bullet and do more serious research on this topic since the box really does bother me #So thanks for getting me to finally do that anon!#There's a good chance that this will go nowhere though #I've heard elsewhere that it's really hard to research this kind of topic in the west #Most of the good resources supposedly come from China and are not translated #If they're even available in the west

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vespaer77 · 5 months

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I'd like to tell you a story...

... about my first Tav, Shayla Moonsong.

She is a Zariel tiefling, and a College of Lore Bard, and while she wasn't my first Tav, she was the first one to finish the game. I had romanced Lae'zel, Shadowheart, and Astarion in early access, so I focused on her because I was anxious to try a new romance, Halsin. However, because she was created just after full release, her save file was horrifically bugged. I got the cut scenes for Halsin that allowed me to progress his companion quest and cure Moonhaven of the shadow curse, but after that I could get no further dialogue from him at all, even in camp. I was playing with a party limit mod by the time he joined my party, so I never needed to worry about dismissing him from my party, but I did occasionally have difficulty with him following the party. I had to run around controlling him a lot. The only scene I ever got with him once he joined me was specifically his sex scene, after I did the love test at the circus in Act 3. I knew literally nothing about him, lol, so I had to google the answers.

But that was the thing. I knew… nothing about this guy. He was just some hot elf my bard boned, I had zero investment in him other than that. And it became a head canon for me about her - she was a typical bard, slutting her way to the Gate. She slept with the Emperor, she had a foursome with the drow twins and Halsin, and she absolutely played Haarlep's game to get his pass code. And while I'd wished, at the time, I could have had the additional enrichment of a poignant, heartfelt romance, I did enjoy exploring a character that was more free with her sexuality. As a result, though, I'd ended up "saving myself" for Halsin, because I knew his romance would (or in my case should but didn't) open up very late in the game. And I'd shot down all of the other companions fairly quickly.

Including Gale.

Especially Gale.

He was still bugged at the time, and his… overly amorous nature, lol, was widely known to anyone who'd spent more than ten minutes on the internet. So I ignored a lot of opportunities to know him better. And at the time, he was honestly my least favorite character. Particularly because I truly didn't enjoy him in early access. I genuinely found him offputting and way too over the top, and subsequently much of his narrative flew straight over my head.

Like a Boeing 777.

But let's be honest. Because of the nature of his story, and the way he seems to compartmentalize his trauma as devotion, and because of the mask of charm and confidence he wears to convince your character of his usefulness, and the way he tempers his emotions so he doesn't upset the orb, all of these things… the complexity of his narrative is super duper subtle. Or at least to me it was. I was the complete dumb dumb that didn't pick it up from context like we were supposed to.

Until I played my bard, Shayla. The first one to get through Act 3.

I had saved the culmination of Gale's quest in Sorcerous Sundries til nearly the end. Just before all the stuff with the foundry and Gortash. At the time, he was still a checklist item, a box to mark off on my road to the final boss.

So I went into it feeling like this man was probably pretty fed up with me, lol. And then he read the Annals of Karsus and I realized right then just how much I'd taken this character for granted. Because everything about him, his entire personality, shifted right there, and he became… someone else. And everyone else in my party noticed it too. The choice of responses I was given was crafted in a way that made me feel like the writers very much wanted me to notice a change had taken place within Gale. And then I picked a response that was honestly a touch unkind. I don't remember what I said to him, but…

He yelled at me.

"She left me to die!" he said. I remember that part.

And when the camera panned back to me and the party, we were all wide eyed and reared away from him in shock and disbelief that this charming, confident, gregarious, and benign creature was suddenly so… dark. And it was at that moment that a light switch was flipped. The missing puzzle piece was found and snapped into place. Suddenly I understood everything I'd missed up to that point, and it was more than just an "ah hah!" moment. It was an, "Oh my god…" moment. He hadn't become someone else.

We were seeing who he truly was for the first time.

His mask had slipped. Cracked beneath strain. He'd been pushed to a breaking point.

Naturally, because he's Gale, he recovered quickly. But it was too late. I saw him. And then two things happened. I fell in love with him. Instantly. But then I also realized the game was almost over. His romance opportunity had come and gone, there wouldn't be a "confess your love at the last minute" option. And of course his fate at the end of the game was not so kind to my bard either.

I've had big feelings about it ever since.

And then the Hugs mod came out, which only served to further poke my great big ouchy feelings.

I've lived in head canon land for a while now when it comes to Shayla Moonsong. In my head canon, he did end up taking her advice, he did pick an outcome that didn't involve using the Crown of Karsus or the Karsite Orb, and in no way did he become a pulverized cloud of stardust. He ended the game living peacefully in Waterdeep, giving Tara belly rubs and ushering in the next generation of wizards without grooming them for a lifetime of suffering.

But that leaves Shayla herself and her big, unresolved feelings. Feelings that were never processed or acknowledged, as the time was never right between her relationship status with Halsin and the fate of the world resting on her shoulders.

So, what is a bard to do when she falls in love, but it's too late?

Nothing small, that's for sure. And it will probably involve singing.

(I'm planning on maybe two to three chapters for this story, in which she very much makes things worse before they get better, lol. She's still learning. But it's definitely gonna end with some light cunnilingus and good, heavy railing either on a kitchen counter or against a bookshelf. I haven't decided yet. I do hope, if you do decide to read this humble beginning, that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And also please excuse my ill attempts at self-effacing meta humor.)

Pairing: Gale / named fem!Tav bard Rating: Smut is imminent (once we get through the foreplay… er, mutual pining) Word count: 4790

Read the story HERE or under the cut

Chapter One: The Wizard, The Real One

"Is there a loan shark in the audience or something?" Jory asked.

"Hmm?" Nelsyn replied, but she didn't look up from her lines. He supposed that was fair. She was busy letting Sara fix the adhesive on the curly teal wig that sat between her horns, and Jory knew as well as anyone on cast that nothing good came from troubling the crew. He let his heavy bear pelt slip from his shoulders as he sat down in the empty chair next to her.

"She's been there all night," he told his friend as he nodded toward the entryway to stage right. "Boss lady. We've been touring this show for months. We could all do it in our sleep, she knows that. Never seen her hover like this."

And there was no reason for it. "The Fall of the Absolute" was a roaring success. The production was Shayla Moonsong's crowning achievement, a media darling, and the current obsession of a whole continent. She'd catalogued volumes of stellar, five-star reviews thus far, and was selling out box offices everywhere she went. The show was the hottest new thing since "Volo's Guide to Sex in the Elemental Planes."

But it wasn't her biggest accomplishment. It wasn't what she was truly known for.

She was the Hero of Baldur's Gate.

She faced the illithid Netherbrain herself, and won.

And the tale they were telling in front of all those people was her story.

Heavens knew the winsome bard had faced far greater perils than watching a chapter of her life play out on a stage.

And yet there she stood, on this most unremarkable of nights, leaning just inside the door frame where she could observe without obstructing. Where she could scan the audience like a scrying eye, searching for… something. Normally she'd be flitting about like a cloud of gnats directing the cast and crew, answering questions, giving orders, helping the caterer, filling water jugs, finding toilet paper, running errands, meeting VIPs. Trying not to go crazy. But not tonight. Tonight she stood very still, chewing her thumbnail and unconsciously flicking the tip of her tail over and over, hard to the left.

And Jory remembered what Nelsyn had said about what it meant when tieflings flicked their tail to the left.

She was clearly nervous about something.

"Well, we're about to do the big emotional number," Nelsyn finally told him, closing the cover of her script while Sara gave her wig a good yank to test the glue. "It's the one all the teenage girls are sobbing over their sketch pads for right now."

She stopped to take a sip of water when Sara bent to pick up her cosmetics case. The girl made a gesture to Jory to give up his seat, and he tripped over his own feet unfolding himself to stand up. Once again he was reminded why he was cast as the big druid, Halsin. Shayla had told him once that while he wasn't quite as tall as the real thing… he was close. He wondered how easily the boss lady's former lover would have fit into that chair.

"This is our first time in Waterdeep," Nelsyn continued, trying her best not to move her lips while Sara applied a fresh coat of pink stain. "She probably just wants to see how it gets received. She doesn't really get to just sit out there and watch, you know?"

"Yeah."

"Could be it," Sara told them both, bunching her eyebrows and concentrating on keeping her hand steady. "Part of it, anyway. That is her favorite character out there, singing his heart out about the bomb in his chest."

"Her favorite character? The wizard?"

"Someone else got a bomb?"

"Please. Everyone knows I'm her favorite character."

"Listen," she replied as she wiped the applicator clean with a kerchief, "you're a good looking kid, and no one hates watching you take your clothes off out there." Nelsyn snorted, but they both ignored her. "A healthy percentage of ticket sales is probably yours, no one's arguing that. But that's not enough for you to game the win."

"Game the w- what?" Jory laughed, his oiled obliques glistening as he pulled the bear pelt back over his shoulders. "Look, I'm not trying to make it a competition or anything, okay? You brought it up. But I literally play an archdruid who carves ducks, sings to squirrels, and adopts orphans. Plus? He looks like this." He swept his hands grandly over his abdomen, flexing muscles most people had only seen in paintings or medical textbooks. "And did I mention he's also her boyfriend?"

"Her ex-boyfriend," Sara corrected him, pointing at Nelsyn as she spoke. "Have you even listened to the song she's getting ready to sing? You know. The one about love? And sacrifice?" She shifted her weight as an intern sidled past her to tidy the table, refill their drinks, and bag up the trash. "And don't tell me you haven't looked at Erik with both of your eyeballs. We've all seen him. The man has eyelashes as long as your forearm. And the biggest, saddest, wettest brown eyes on the face of this planet. He's like a baby cow, okay? I'm just saying." She stood to let the intern past her again, and bent to drag her cosmetics case out of the way. "This is the man she cast to play the lead in the big romantic climax of the whole show. When the main character realizes she's in love and it's too late. She's managed to capture," she pinched her fingers in front of her face, "the very essence of what it means to have sad children mooning over this show for years to come, okay? The baby cow is a cash cow. And he is clearly her favorite character."

"I think the vampire is her favorite character," the intern said, unprompted, as she reached to help Nelsyn out of her seat. "He's everyone's favorite character."

"You're all wrong," Nelsyn told them as she sloughed her way out of her robe with great theatrical flair. The intern caught it before it hit the floor, just as she'd done so many times before. Nelsyn stood with her hands on her hips and a gallant curve to her tail, casting her eyes toward the rafters and beaming a heavily pink-stained smile, resplendent in her artificially distressed leather armor blotted with thick fake blood.

"I'm her favorite character," she said, glowing with certainty. "And it should be obvious. I'm her! Now, stand back and watch while I go make a bunch of little girls cry!" And with that, she grinned devilishly and pranced toward the stage.

But once she was gone, the intern leaned forward and beckoned. Jory found himself instinctually drawn to listen.

"Well, you wanna know what I heard?" she whispered, and her eyes landed on Shayla for only just a moment. Jory nodded out of reflex. "I heard a rumor that someone in the orchestra pit overheard the boss lady telling someone in the box office that there was going to be a special guest tonight."

"What. Like, family?" Jory asked. "I thought she was an orphan."

"Could be anyone," Sara answered him from where she stood, combing through a wig hanging on the wall. "Philanthropist, politician. Who knows.

"Or," the intern hissed, leaning in even closer, "it could be one of them."

"One of who?"

"You know. Them. Thems what was with her, when all this went down."

"Like… like one of the actual…?"

"Don't you two have anything better to do than -"

"Wait. We're in Waterdeep," Jory breathed. He snatched up Nelsyn's script and started thumbing through it, fanning the pages and blowing a strand of hair across his nose. "Isn't… isn't the wizard…?"

Sara dropped her comb to her side and opened her mouth, but stopped and blinked at him instead. A thoughtful look crept across her face. She nodded her head in defeat.

"The wizard's from Waterdeep."

Then, as one, they all turned to look at Shayla where she stood at stage right, still as a statue.

And the music began to swell. The strings stirred the air with sounds as soft and sweet as sunset. The woodwinds sang a shrill crescendo as Erik began to make his famous climb.

And Nelsyn began to sing her famous song.

Before she disappeared beyond the narrow view from stage right, Jory watched her as she raised her arm to reach for him.

The wizard.

And her voice rang out so high and so clear, so heavy with every loss that Shayla Moonsong had ever suffered, with every plea that ever twisted her heart in bitter knots. With every word that ever fell from the mighty pen of their beloved playwright.

Who stood now with her hand at her throat. It bobbed once when she swallowed. Her lips parted and she drew a breath, and a hush fell over the crowd. She settled in to listen with the rest of them.

And her tail flicked once more to the left.

I know I've been unkind to you And I've pushed you way too far And I know in ignorance I forced you To reveal the man you are And I know I've left you with nothing to lose And even less to gain And though I know you owe me nothing Please don't give in to pain

Erik's silhouette was emblazoned across the long, velvet curtain hanging behind the hideously decorated staircase he was climbing. His movements were eery and real, despite their paltry attempts to pantomime a grisly memory that none of them had ever lived. Each step was measured and dreamlike and perfect, like a person caught in a trance or a dead man called home to his rest by a spectral light.

Or in this case, a massive papier mache facsimile of a netherbrain hung from a scaffold over the stage.

Please, Please don't do this I'm begging you not to go Please, Please don't do this There's something you need to know What can I do to make you wait Convince a goddess to change your fate Please tell me that it's not too late There's something I didn't say…

"It can't be him, though. Can it?" Jory asked. "Didn't he, like," he pointed a finger toward the stage, "explode?"

"Oh, no. It's just a story, mate," came a voice from behind them. It was Velanthyr, the elf who played Astarion. They rounded the table and perched themself on the corner, placing their white wig beside them as they took a bite from an apple. "She's embellished tons of stuff. For emotional impact. They all do it."

I should have loved you since I met you I should have loved you all along

"That bard she played? In the first act?"

"Yeah?"

"She ain't really dead either."

"Seriously?"

I should have told you that I love you Instead of hiding behind a song

"My cousin met her. Said he saw her play someplace they had dinner."

"No shit?"

"It's true. She teaches music in Baldur's Gate."

Is there nothing left that I can do But fall to my knees and pray

"So what's with her, anyway?" Velanthyr asked, pointing their apple at Shayla while they wiped the juice from their lips with their other hand.

The tip of her tail flicked again, and slowly she wrapped her arms around her middle.

To any god or any devil Who'd keep you from walking away

"She's been acting weird all night," they said.

"S'what we were just talking about."

Please, Please don't do this! Turn around! This isn't right!

"We think the wizard might be out there," the intern told them. "The real one."

"Oh no," the elf laughed.

Please, Please don't do this! Please, I'm begging you to fight!

"Hope he has a sense of humor. It's about to get weird!"

"Weird?!" Sara growled at them, flinging her comb about.

Forget your fickle god's desire I'd cross the oceans, I'd walk through fire I'd conquer all the Hells entire For you And yes, I know you're tired

"The man is getting ready to watch himself die! And I'm sure I don't need to remind you his death is self-inflicted! If there's a chance that any of this is real? That the trauma this man survived is on display? You all need to show a little respect." She shook her head and turned back to her wig. "Shut up and let her listen."

Sara's words may have stung him, but Jory knew she was right. So he obeyed her, and he listened. And for the first time he truly heard the fragile warble of desperate heartache that Nelsyn had worked so hard to craft through her voice.

Come back to me and take your rest Indulge one overdue caress I'll steal the sorrow from your chest And confess, I will confess

But he didn't just uncover a new appreciation for his friend and her level of skill. There was more to it than that. There was a depth to this scene that he'd been missing before now.

There was a meaning. One that wasn't meant for the whole world.

It was only meant for one man.

He could sense it in the vibrant tension bound between Shayla Moonsong's shoulder blades.

And then Nelsyn grew quiet. Everything got quiet. The music made a subtle shift to something low and dulcet, but tense, like a string pulled too tight without snapping. Jory found his feet had led him to stand at Shayla's shoulder. He could hear her breathing through her teeth and he felt compelled to reach out and take her hand.

She took hold of it like a lifeline.

You're everything to me and more You're all that I've been fighting for You're more than just an end to war…

Nelsyn paused after that last note. It was important to the narrative, it was the whole point behind the wizard's story. But her longing would go deliciously unrequited, and would inspire a veritable deluge of creativity from fandom communities everywhere.

Shayla squeezed Jory's hand, squeezed her eyelids firmly shut. She held her breath and Jory could see Erik had reached the top of the rise. There he stood, a straight, unyielding figure gazing off into the liminal distance, resolute.

And he would never turn around.

It wouldn't be long. Any moment.

Nelsyn sang her penultimate line.

And I would give my life for yours…

She held the word so long it nearly sank into Jory's skin. It sent a wave goosebumps to crest over every inch of his body. The orchestra wove their way through their final, sweeping refrain, and the conductor brought them to a close on a plaintive harmony between a flute and an oboe.

And then the light collapsed.

It shrank to a small, pale circle that drew its stark and shining focus on a razor-slim shadow cast against the curtain.

In the shape of a dagger.

Erik lifted it high and turned its point toward his heart.

"Gods preserve me," Shayla mumbled to herself. It was the only sound Jory could hear aside from the sniffs and sniffles of the audience. Collectively they teetered at the edges of their seats, enthralled by a beautiful, mournful man who was counting the final seconds of his life with undaunted stoicism and courage.

Nelsyn could've whispered her final line if she wanted to, but instead it burst from her as a scream.

"Don't do this!!!"

Jory felt it thrum like a shockwave within his own chest, and beside him Shayla flinched. She squeezed his hand even harder.

"Just tell me when it's over," she said to him. And then suddenly there was a flurry of activity.

He took a step back and yanked her away from the door when a small flock of technicians flew in to crowd the space they left behind.

Up high, far in the corner, Jory saw the dagger move against the curtain. And all of the good people of Waterdeep gasped when they watched the blade meet its mark.

"Fire in the hole," a technician murmured beside him, and the spotlight on the curtain went black.

Then a pair of spells were cast that bathed the audience in a blinding aurora. It blazed with ribbons of vivid blues and purples and greens, speckled with myriad glittering white stars.

And an arrow of roaring thunder was launched far overhead. It detonated with such a resounding boom that it shook everything, even the floor boards beneath Jory's feet. It rattled seats and drinking vessels, it toppled music stands, and it made Erik's staircase sway alarmingly as it was wheeled backstage, with him still riding precariously at its top.

Shayla Moonsong's face fell into her hands.

"Go on," Erik sang as he danced his way down the stairs. "Tell me how devastating I was. Don't hold back. Tell me everything."

"You were spectacular, my love!" Velanthyr assured him as they ran to greet him, cradling his face in their hands and kissing him sweetly. "You always are."

"Were they weeping?" he asked his lover, nuzzling their face with his own. "The lights are so bright, I can never see."

"They were drowning in their tears, darling. Drowning."

"Is everything alright?" Sara asked as she approached on her tiptoes, reaching for Shayla's arm. Velanthyr's wig drooped at her side, forgotten. "What can I do?"

"I can't even look," Shayla whimpered through the palms that smothered her face.

"Oh honey," Sara cooed as she pulled the woman closer. And in a blessed act of mercy, she asked the question that no one wanted to ask, but someone needed to. Long before now, before this critical point had been breached.

"He's out there, isn't he?"

"I think I've made a huge mistake." Shayla slid her fingertips down to press against her lips, unable to form any other words. She could only shake her head, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Do you want us to look? See if we can see him?"

"I don't think I wanna know."

"Where is he seated?"

"E6."

"Oh." Sara briefly grimaced at Jory, but didn't stop rubbing circles across Shayla's back. "Front and center. Of course."

"Yep." The way her lips popped at the end of the word only served to emphasize how mortified she was. "Wouldn't want him to miss anything."

"Well, of course not. He's your guest," Sara replied, jerking her chin in a way that suggested Jory had been volunteered for reconnaissance.

"Oh gods!" Shayla raked her claws past her horns to twist them into her hair. "I even told him he could invite his mother!"

"Well that's a perfectly reasonable thing to do, one would think."

Jory understood his assignment. He sauntered away but paused at the door frame. The show wasn't over yet. When the technicians finished collecting their gear, they scrambled off to safely stow their rockets and retrieve the set pieces for the final scenes. They were dragging the staircase away from the main thoroughfare when Corinne, the woman who played the narrator, whipped past them.

"Coming through," she chimed, racing out to center stage, taking her place before the curtains could rise once more. Her final soliloquy would lead them into the epilogue, and would give Jory the opportunity he needed to cast his eyes past the orchestra pit and across the section of seats that lie beyond.

Front and center.

He would only have a minute or two. Sara would need to replace Velanthyr's wig. Erik needed a drink and Nelsyn's makeup needed a touch up. Very soon they would be on stage, the lights burning holes through their retinas, leaving them blinded and oblivious to all but each other and the saga they would spin to its end. He reached up to buckle the clasp on the bear pelt that draped across his shoulders.

For now, it was the narrator's turn. But he was ready. And then the curtains rose.

He smashed his face against the door frame like a cat burglar. A shaft of light swung down upon the stage illuminating Corinne at its center, and Jory peered out into the darkness it left in its wake. He squinted until he found the end of the section behind the orchestra pit, and he started counting backwards from there.

But seat E6 was empty.

Certain he'd made a mistake, he counted back again to double check, to be extra sure.

But he was right the first time.

"It's empty," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"What?" Shayla cried as she spun to face him.

"Yeah," he told her. "I counted twice to make sure I had the right seat, but no one's in it."

"Oh gods." She began to pace, wringing her hands. "What about the one next to it?"

"Which side?"

"Just tell me if you see an older woman."

"Umm, okay." At first he wasn't certain. There was a child on the right side, but on the left was a person who'd stood up, and was bent with their back toward him, like they were reaching for something. "I think… maybe. Yeah. I think so. It looks like she's getting up. She's picking up a bag or something. Is that a cat?"

"Tara?"

"Who brings a cat to a -"

"She's not a cat. She's a tressym."

"What the hell is a tress- holy shit, it's got wings! It just flew over - oh! Oh, I think I see him!"

"Where!"

The tressym sailed through the air to float beside a tall, slender man who was moving quickly up the aisle toward the exit. He wasn't running, out of proper respect for social decorum, but he had the energy of a man who wished he was. His shoulders were hitched up near his ears and he was stifling his mouth with the back of one hand.

And a shiver ran down Jory's spine.

This was the guy. The wizard. The real one.

Gale Dekarios, of Waterdeep.

In the flesh. Right there.

From what little Jory could see, the play had done him justice. He was a very handsome man, lithe and lean, long-legged with a powerful stride, and every bit as comely as Erik had depicted him to be.

Yet it was hard to imagine, through simple sight alone, that this was a man who had once been the Chosen of a god. Or that this was a man who had once vanquished the avatar of Death itself. A man who had put an end to the Cult of the Absolute.

A man who had once made his own decision about whether or not to plunge a dagger into his heart.

But it was easy to see why Shayla would want to stop him. This man clearly meant something to her.

He didn't know what providence deemed it necessary for him to ask. It certainly wasn't any of his business. But the question tumbled out of his mouth, unbidden. Perhaps the gods themselves just wanted to hear someone finally say it out loud.

"Does he know how you feel about him?"

Shayla slumped and let her hands fall limp to her sides. She pulled her lip into her mouth, and her eyes swam with visions of regret. "No," she whispered to him. "It was never the right time."

Oh, how irony could be so cruel.

"You should go after him, then," he told her. "Go quick. If you hurry, you can catch him before he gets to the front door."

"Shit!" she snarled and for a moment, Jory was afraid she'd scurry across the stage in the middle of Corinne's long and emotional speech. There was a wild streak in him that almost hoped she would. But instead, she bolted through the loading bay doors and flung herself outside, presumably to tear down the alley between the theater and the wine cellar to run around the building toward the front.

Nelsyn wandered over to them, sipping cold water from her mug and watching over her shoulder as the loading bay doors swung back and forth on their hinges.

"Jory," she stated flatly. "What did you do."

"What?!" he cried. Sara could only double over and laugh at him. "I didn't do anything!"

"Somebody did something," she said, eyeing the doors skeptically. "And it looks a lot like it was you."

"I'm serious! She asked if we could see him, and I told her yes. That's all."

"See who?"

"The wizard!"

"What wizard? You mean, like… Erik?"

"No!" He stuck out both hands and shook them. "The actual wizard! The real one, from Waterdeep! Yes, he's still alive! No, he didn't explode!"

"Well, everybody knows that…"

"She wanted to know where he was, so I told her, and then she ran out the door."

"Wait. So he was actually here tonight?"

"Jory," Sara accused him, still smiling pitifully at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not all you said to her."

"But I didn't -"

"You asked her a pretty personal question."

"Where was he sitting?" Nelsyn continued as she took another drink and leered at him over the rim over her mug.

"E6."

"Wow. Front and center."

"Yeah. She didn't want him to miss anything."

"So what did you ask her?"

Jory could only roll his eyes and sigh. None of them had time for this. He dropped his head and pinched his brow between his thumb and his forefinger but when he looked up, he found all eyes were on him. Even Erik and Velanthyr had paused their conversation long enough to turn around and stare. The technicians in the back tried to appear as if they weren't listening, but everyone knew they were. Suddenly, he could feel the heat that was trapped beneath the heavy mantle of his bear pelt.

"I asked her if he knew how she felt about him."

"What do you mean, how she felt…" And through the window of her eyes he could see her mentally calculating every single word she'd just sung. Right in front of the very man it was all intended for. Seated front and center, missing nothing. Her eyes flickered like golden flames.

"Holy shit," she breathed. "Like… feelings? Real ones? What did she say?"

He didn't get to answer. Just then, raucous applause erupted from behind them. The thunderous retort of clapping hands and cheers drowned all other sound, and signaled to them all that their time was up. Corinne came skipping backstage as the curtains fell behind her.

"And that's a wrap for me! Slam and a dunk! Go get 'em while they're - what's going on?"

"The wizard was here tonight," Nelsyn answered her without breaking her eye contact with Jory. "The real one. Shayla is in love with him. What did she sayyy?"

"No," he told her, holding very still while Sara dabbed a powder puff over his face. "She said no. He doesn't know."

"Are you serious?" Corinne gasped, pressing a hand to her heart.

"Well he does now," Sara chuckled, wriggling her eyebrows as she dropped the powder back into her cosmetics case. "I hope she caught him before he got away. He deserves an explanation."

And all around them, activity buzzed. Scenic backdrops rolled by, the intern fussed with Velanthyr's wig on her tiptoes, Sara dug frantically around searching for her lip stain, and the other actors began lining up to take their places. But in spite of the jubilant bustle of life happening all around them, Nelsyn could only stand with her mug in her hands, awestruck by the revelation they'd just been given.

"Sweet tapdancing Asmodeus," she laughed, shaking her head with her eyes transfixed on some far away place. "You mean to tell me that this whole time," she jostled the water in her mug when she bellowed, "THIS WHOLE TIME?! This whole play has been just a great big love letter to some… man?! For months?! And he only just heard it? Tonight? For the first time?"

"I think that about sums it up, yep," Sara told her, taking the mug from her hands.

"That's genius!" She shuffled to her place in line, utterly befuddled, her eyes glassy and glazed. "They're star-crossed, it's perfect! I wish this would've happened months ago! Just you wait, you'll see. When all the little fan fic authors out there find out about this? They are gonna go berserk! People everywhere will pay money for a vial of our sweat! The contents of our chamber pots - we'll be famous!

"Gods have mercy on us all. There might even be a sequel. We'll be touring this show til the day we die!"

************************************************************************

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #tav x gale #gale x tav #galemance #bg3 fic #bg3 gale fic #bg3 fan fiction #bg3 gale fan fiction

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everpresence · 3 days

Text

stop caring about what others think: the law perspective

hi, everyone! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

i've thought about writing this post for a while, especially since this is a mindset that i am freeing myself from. i know i'm not the only one who grew up in the state of being a people pleaser, so this is for people who were programmed to neglect their own desires and give in to pressure from family, friends, and society.

the other day, my mom noticed that i had a really long gray strand of hair. i didn't believe her at first, but when she pulled it out and showed it to me, i was shocked. it looked like it had been there for months, and i wondered to myself what i did for this to happen.

seth said that your physical body is a reflection of your beliefs, or your dominant dwelling state. if you notice that there is something "wrong" with your body, then you must first look into your thoughts and emotions over the last few weeks, months, etc.

Physical symptoms are communications from the inner self, indications that we are making mental errors of one kind or another. ♡ Seth (channeled by Jane Roberts), The Seth Material

after seeing that gray hair, i knew that it was because of stress. okay, what was i stressed about? i started looking back into what i had dwelt on over the last few months, and i realized that i was stressed out about a lot of things. what stood out, though, was my inner conversations about my family. i was mainly dwelling on what my family thought of me, whether i was worthy of their approval or not, if they were proud of me, etc.

in other words, i cared way too much about how they think and feel about me that it had translated to not only having that long gray strand of hair, it also translated to other physical symptoms (chronic fatigue, chest pain, rashes).

and not only did it translate to those physical symptoms, it also translated to my thoughts, emotions, and the events i was experiencing in the 3D. in other words, everything out here is a reflection of your inner state of being. the cause is always inner.

i found myself feeling more anxious about talking to my parents, wishing that they didn't bring up anything that i really don't want to do. i even avoided them for a certain period of time because of this fear. and since the law is always working 24/7, they ended up bringing it up way more often since i frequently dwelt on what i don't want to hear.

thankfully, though, if i decide to do the opposite (i.e., dwelling on what i want to hear instead), then the 3D has no choice but to outpicture what i choose to experience with my inner senses.

when you consistently dwell on people pleasing, on your fears and doubts about your family, peers, etc., these are all going to be translated into your thoughts, your emotions, your physical body, your experience—everything.

when you care too much about what other people think, when you consent to someone else's limiting beliefs about reality, when you care about external validation, it is only hindering your infinite potential. you are only going to experience such limitations and unhappiness in your reality because you chose to try to fit into someone else's box.

As long as you're in a state of consciousness where you care so much what other people think and what their attitudes will be, you're not going to get very far. ♡ Reverend Ike, "Your Unconscious Fear of Success Affirmation"

i am not saying this as a way to fearmonger, or to blame, or to guilt-trip you. that's not my intention.

i am saying this for you to fully realize the connection between your inner world and your outer world.

nothing is random. nothing is an accident. you are always getting what you concentrated upon, and therefore, you ultimately have the responsibility to choose what reality you want to experience.

you're the only one that can free yourself from these states. no one else can do that for you.

the more you focus on being true to yourself, the more you shift your focus from making other people happy to letting yourself be happy, the more you're going to experience the happiness that comes with the authenticity of your unique being.

yes, it might feel hard to do so at first, but that's because we have made a habit out of wanting to please other people and being rewarded with external validation. it is what we have gotten used to since the beginning of our lives.

however, if you want to be the best version of yourself, you must give up all inner conversations about what other people think of you, that what they think about you matters. stop the arguments in your head. their thoughts and opinions about you have no power over you unless you choose to give it to them. it only matters what you think and feel about yourself.

your inner world is your refuge, where every single reality you desire to experience and is already promised to you exists in this present moment. everything is happening all at once. here, you can experience how it'd feel now that you are free to be yourself, to do whatever you want, to be unconditionally loved and accepted no matter what. you must make this a habit, and the more often you do this, the easier it gets.

I must consciously return to my new state constantly. I must feel its naturalness, like my own bed at night. At first the new state seems unnatural, like wearing a new suit or hat. Although no one knows your suit is new, you are so conscious of it you think everyone is looking at you. You are aware of its fit and its feeling until it becomes comfortable. So it is with your new state. At first you are conscious of its strangeness; but with regular wearing, the new state becomes comfortable, and its naturalness causes you to constantly return to it, thereby making it real. ♡ Neville Goddard, "The Perfect Image"

if you find yourself going back to those old inner conversations, don't beat yourself up over it. don't criticize yourself. it's okay. consciousness is the only reality, but you are also having a human experience. you are on your own journey, and this is completely normal. be gentle with yourself and let those thoughts and emotions pass over, as they are only temporary. then choose to continue to let yourself dwell on who you really want to be within.

to wrap this post up, i have a song recommendation :]

i stumbled upon this song on spotify by paris hilton which features rina sawayama (I LOVE HER BTW RAHHHHHH). perhaps the lyrics will resonate with you guys and allow yourselves to enter the feeling of being your authentic self.

#♡#loassumption #law of assumption #loablr #affirm and persist #loa tumblr #loa blog #spirituality #law of attraction #loattraction #manifesting #manifestation #imagination creates reality #self concept #self actualization #growth mindset #glow up #this has been in the drafts for a while #Spotify

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radiant-reid · 2 years

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Christmas (Baby, please come home)

a/n: i did say i still have Christmas fics to write, so judge me if you want

Summary: Spencer's gone for Christmas, and you and the twins wish he wasn't.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (minor angst, major fluff)

Word Count: 3.2k

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Christmas Eve was a hot chocolate night. That was the tradition every year. Hot chocolate out of the house, a walk back home, bedtime, then Christmas morning.

This year, there's an extra step that they all wish wasn't there: Facetiming Spencer. And that's not a guarantee. It's scheduled, but there's no assurance about how long he can be on the phone.

It kills all of them, and the sacrifice sucks, but there aren't a lot of choices when the State Department calls. The deeply buried positive is that there's a year limit on how long he will be away, and only four months in, it seems impossible to do that two more times.

"Momma, look at the snow." Theo cheers, holding one hand up in the air while his other's wrapped around his hot chocolate.

The three of you are walking through the city on your way home, looking at all the fancy lights strung up around people's houses. It's gorgeous, but it can't be perfect without Spencer.

You nestle his hair. "Sorry, baby, it's a snow machine." You nod to the machine spurting out look-alike snow. "We're not going to get snow this year."

"Or daddy," Evie adds, pouting.

You wrap your arms around them, pulling their little bodies in for side hugs. "He'll be back soon." You promise, desperately hoping they believe it.

"Do you think he'll bring us a present?" Theo asks, grinning up at you.

Spencer will. If not for his guilt, then because he likes to spoil them. "Yup, what do you want?"

"Maybe..." He pauses to think about it. "Peanut butter."

"Peanut butter?" You repeat with a giggle, Evie joining in. "You'll have to ask him about that."

"I want food from wherever he is." She decides.

You frown at your picky eater who really doesn't like trying new foods and will order chicken nuggets from any menu anywhere. It's been a struggle to get her to try more than three of Rossi's pasta dishes. "I'm not sure you'd like it, E." You tell her. "And I'm not sure daddy's allowed to bring food back. We're going to have ham and turkey tomorrow, though."

It's going to be a lot of food, accompanied by stuffing, roasted potato and sweet potato, vegetables- that you'll have to bribe them to eat- and cranberry sauce. And that's not including dessert. There's brunch and dinner at Rossi's on boxing day as well, and he's never been on everyone bringing a plate.

"Remember when daddy set the oven mitt on fire last year?" Theo recalls, bursting into giggles with his sister. It was hilarious, Spencer's high pitch squeals as he threw the mitt in the sink and set off the smoke alarm.

"Remember that next time he asks who's the better cook." You remind them, anticipating Spencer would ask after Christmas to tease her.

Evie turns to look at you. "What's daddy going to have for Christmas dinner?"

You don't have an answer, but she's mostly asking for reassurance that he's okay. "Something really yum." You assure her. "You can ask when we call him."

That answer satisfies her enough for no more questions and saves you from having to explain anything more on his behalf. You can't resist taking a few photos of them on the way home, standing in the streets surrounded by Christmas lights, looking adorable in their coats.

"Okay, go put your pajamas on then we can call." You instruct them once you're back at home, taking their coats to hang up.

They scramble to get ready, excited to talk to Spencer. Everything about being home makes you miss him, like the display of framed pictures in the hallway, his shoes in the doorway, and his coat in the closet.

You clean up the living room a little, putting away all the toys that accumulate over the day. It's what you do when Spencer's working with the BAU since he's clumsy and likely to trip over blocks in the middle of the night.

The Christmas tree in the living room has lots of gifts under it, and their little Theodore and Evelyn stockings hang under the mantel, waiting for presents.

Then you make your way upstairs to their bedrooms just before 9:30, where they're waiting on Theo's bed. You sit next to them, holding out the phone so they'll be able to see him before you call him.

Cell reception in the desert, you anticipated and have discovered, is terrible, but for once, Spencer's face is clear on the screen. His background is blurred, as usual, safety concerns would mean you can't see what's behind him, but the timezone difference means it's dark.

"Hey, there are my favorite people in the world." He says, waving. His voice sounds different on the phone. You can't feel it either, like you're laying on his chest, and you miss that like you miss the rest of him.

"Daddy!" They cheer, pleased to see him.

"How are my sweet babies?" He asks with a wide smile.

They mirror it, and you don't think you'll ever get over the similarities between them. "Good," Theo answers.

"We had hot chocolate," Evie reports.

"With lots of marshmallows?" He checks. "And sprinkles."

Another similarity: sweet tooths. "And whipped cream," Evie tells him. "Did you have hot chocolate?"

"Not yet." He says.

"Can we have some when you're home?" Theo asks, looking between you and his dad.

You and Spencer nod in unison, and you avoid mentioning it could be 90 degrees and summer by the time he comes back. "Of course, bud." He answers. "All the hot chocolate you can drink."

He grins, pumping his fist in the air. "Yes!" He cheers. "I could drink a gallon."

"That might not be the best idea." You remind him, although the smile on his face is worth him thinking he can drink a sick-inducing amount of hot chocolate.

"Especially because we'll have marshmallows," Spencer adds. "We can have another Christmas dinner then, too."

"But mommy has to cook," Evie says.

Spencer chuckles, looking at you and shaking his head. "You wouldn't be poisoning young minds while I'm away, would you, Mrs. Reid?"

You shake your head. "Wouldn't dream of it, Doctor."

They talk for a little while longer before the twins can barely keep their eyes open, beyond tired from the late hour, their excitement reduced enough for them to be able to sleep.

As the new routine goes, Spencer wishes them goodnight while you tuck them in, giving them two kisses each, one from each of you. Then it's your turn to talk to him, and you're grateful you drank more coffee than you probably should have.

You sit on the couch instead of upstairs in bed since there's still some stocking stuffing to do. "What's the time where you are?" You ask.

You don't know exactly where he is or what he's doing it. It's the way you both prefer it because he's not in the middle of the desert half a world away to monitor the ecosystem.

"10pm in DC, so 5 am." He says.

You know he can't be getting a lot of sleep over there, and as much as you want to talk to him, you want him to rest when he has the rare opportunity. Getting up early does not help that.

"Don't worry, it's fine." He assures you, seeing your face change. "I can function on a few hours of sleep."

"How are you?" You ask. "Tell me about normal stuff, like the weather."

He laughs his adorable laugh. "Better than it was when I came." He tells you. "And it never rains. It's just hot and dry or less hot and dry."

"Thought you'd be used to that, desert boy." You tease his aversion to the warm weather.

"This might be a surprise, but I spend most of my summers inside where the aircon is." He corrects you.

"Here I was thinking you were outside playing basketball." You joke back. You can hear his laugh and see his smile, and things feel okay, but it'll end too soon like it always does. "I miss you." You tell him, and you feel bad about it.

At least you have two kids with you that are constant reminders of him. He's all alone, somewhere you don't even know, and he gets to talk to his family only a few times a week.

"I miss you, too, sweetheart." He says. "Can you switch this to a voice call?"

You pout, waving goodbye to him, but agree, placing the phone on your ear. "Now I don't get to see you." You complain about another situation that's worse for him.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes before adding an afterthought question. "Oh, did you get the package at the door?"

"No." You answer. "I would have seen it when we came in."

"I told them to drop it at the backdoor." He tells you. "Safety precautions and all that."

You get up off the couch, walking towards the location of your mystery package. "Please tell me you didn't add to the crazy Christmas delivery overload by buying me more gifts."

"Sort of." He says. "It's for all of you, though."

That gets the gears in your head turning about what it could be. "I hope it's a trampoline. They'd love it, but then you'd get on, and hurt your knee again."

"I got shot in the knee." He corrects you. "I could backflip."

You scoff, laughing. "That I would love to see. Or go-carts." You guess again, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder while you unlock the door and turn the door hand. "Oh, maybe tickets to an all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas."

What you're greeted with isn't plane tickets: it's the best gift you could imagine. "We can go to the Bahamas if you want." He says, out loud and through the phone.

Your first reaction is to drop your phone on the ground, not caring whether it shatters, and jump into your husband's arms which you haven't felt around you in a very hard, long one hundred and thirty-nine days.

Spencer still smells the same. His perfect cologne makes your house feel completely like home once again. Applying it to his pillow and hoodies for you to wear has not been enough.

He feels slightly more muscular than he used to in his arms and shoulders, and it's a welcomed change. He holds you there, tighter than he ever has before for so long that you stop counting. It satisfies what you've been craving.

He pulls his head back from your shoulder so he can kiss you while he hugs you. "I've missed you so much." You confess.

"We can say that in the past tense now." He says, kissing you once again. "We should go inside. You've got to be freezing."

You didn't realize until then that you went outside in jeans and a shirt, but you can't be cold when he's so warm. Spencer only keeps one arm around your shoulder when you step inside, carrying his bag in the other.

"I've missed this house." He says. "Everything about it."

"The unvacuumed floor?" You joke. "Or the toothpaste the twins spit on the mirror?"

"It's you and them and everything else in between." He assures you, putting his bag by the laundry as you move to the living room. "And I'm in time to be Santa." He cheers excitedly, noticing the stockings.

You nod, pulling him to the entryway. "They're in here." You say as you open the closet and take a trash bag full of gifts from the top shelf while Spencer takes off his shoes.

"Wow." He says when you hand him the heavy sack.

"I know." You nod. "I went a little crazy, but you weren't going to be here and I didn't even buy everything you suggested so..." When you turn back to look at him after closing the closet, he's just staring at you. "What?"

"I love you." He says like it's the most important thing ever.

You beam, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again. "I love you."

"Let's stop being sappy in the hallway, we've got Christmases to make." He declares with a smirk.

"You're going to be making everyone's Christmas just by being here, Spence." You assure him, walking back into the lounge. "Oh, and the team! They'll be so excited to see you."

Spencer puts the bag down on the couch, pulling out gifts to put in the right stocking. It's always like no time has passed when he comes home, no awkward moments or getting back into routine.

"Are you hungry?" You question. "Thirsty? Are you too tired to be doing this?"

He shakes his head, smiling at you. "I'm good, sweetheart. I told you I can function on a few hours of sleep." He assures you. "Honestly, I've never been better."

"How'd you get back so early?" You wonder, sitting on the couch to watch him.

"I just heard I was leaving, so I got on the plane." He explains. "Oddly, they're not the most forthcoming government department."

You chuckle before answering the hard question. "Do you have to go back?"

And you get the answer you were hoping for as he shakes his head before adding more good news. "I don't have to go back to the BAU for a few months either."

That's more than enough of a Christmas gift for you. "They're going to be so happy when they wake up and you're here," You tell him.

"I'm so happy to be here." He says, finishing putting the last gift in Theo's stocking. "In time for Christmas, too."

"We're so lucky." You repeat, holding out your hands.

Spencer grabs your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning in circles in the living room. "Bed?" He offers.

"Please." You beg. "I have been sleeping in the middle of the bed, though, so I might kick you."

Spencer laughs as he follows you upstairs, holding your hand. "Well, I'm looking forward to sleeping on a mattress without lumps in it."

Once you reach the top of the stairs, Spencer wraps his arm around your shoulder, and it's like you're taken right back to when you first started living together, and you wouldn't let go of each other for hours after he got home from a case.

"I have to kiss them goodnight." Spencer stills when you pass Theo's room.

You go back to holding his hand as he pushes the door open slowly to avoid waking him. He's tightly tucked up in bed still, sleeping peacefully, and Spencer brushes some curls off his forehead before kissing him softly.

"I love you, little man." He says before you tiptoe out, careful of the creaks in the floorboards. "Did he get bigger?" He asks once you're safe in the hallway.

"They both did. I think at least an inch." You report.

You go to Evie's room next, repeating the same routine of Spencer admiring her before kissing her forehead and sneaking out of the room again.

"I never want to lose that much time with them again." He confesses as you walk towards your bedroom.

You know it must have killed him to be away for so long, but he's here now and that's really what matters. "But you're our hero." You remind him.

He smiles at that. "How many of the clothes I left here have been worn?" He asks, suspiciously looking around the closet you ended up in to get pajamas.

"Oh, all your hoodies and t-shirts." You assure him. "The good news is that they all smell like me now."

He nods in agreement. "That is good news." He grabs a hoodie and some pajama bottoms, but before he changes, he notices you just watching him. "Did you... want a show?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I think we might need to save that for tomorrow night. What I'm doing is admiring you and making sure you're not injured."

"Promise." He says, and maybe you're misleading him by making it sound like it's a 50/50 split because there's a lot more admiring going on than checking injuries. "Satisfied?" He asks, smirking at your wandering eyes.

"So satisfied." You assure him, blushing a little. "Thanks for that."

"You're very welcome." He says. "Wanna go to bed now?"

"Yes." You agree, both of you finishing your bedtime routines before getting under the covers.

Spencer pulls you close immediately, cuddling you into his side. "Merry Christmas." He whispers, kissing you softly.

"Merry Christmas." You reply, wiggling even closer to him. It doesn't take you too long to fall asleep with the warm feeling that your family is all under one roof finally.

And it's not a dream.

In the morning he's there, kissing your forehead as he gets out of bed. You turn to look at the clock. "Spence, it's 6:30."

"Lucky it's not earlier." He jokes. "My internal close is messed up." "You better be getting me coffee." You tell him, holding out your finger as you rest your face against the pillow in an attempt to get another few seconds of sleep.

He brushes the hair off your shoulder, exposing it so he can kiss your skin. "Promise." He says.

You don't fall back asleep. You just grin at the ceiling until Spencer comes back in a few minutes later with coffee. You moan at the taste since he always makes it better than you do. "This is so good."

He gets back under the covers next to you and sips his own mug. "I've had nothing but instant coffee, not even drip coffee."

"So how long do you think we have until two little people bust open the door?" You wonder.

"Two minutes." He estimates, and you raise your eyebrows, knowing the one way he could know that. "Okay, fine. I did go into their rooms to shake them." He confesses.

You laugh, shaking your head. It's an old trick of his to get them up. "You're terrible."

"I want to see my little babies." He sulks, pouting playfully. "Plus, they've had nearly nine hours of sleep."

The pitter-patter of tiny feet starts in the hallway when Spencer suggested it would, and you both put your coffees down in anticipation.

"Mommy, it's Christmas," Theo reports, tapping on your door.

"Come in." You instruct. "I've got an amazing surprise."

Spencer scoffs next to you. "Only amazing?"

There's no chance for you to provide another adjective before 2 five-year-olds race in, jumping onto the bed without looking at who's next to you. The realization sets in on their faces after a millisecond, and their eyes grow wide before the high-pitch squeals start as they launch at him.

He grabs both of them, one in each arm as he holds them tight to his chest. "Hi, sweet angels." He says, kissing their foreheads.

"I missed you." They both tell him.

"I missed you both more." He assures them.

Evie pulls back to eye him suspiciously. "How did you get here?" She asks.

Spencer smoothes a hand through her hair. "On a plane." He tells her. "I couldn't miss Christmas."

"Now this is the best Christmas ever," Theo says, assuming up how you're all feeling.

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@sydneekomspacekru @ccosmic-illusion @majooooooooooooooooooo

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid angst

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thebirthofvenusfly · 8 months

Text

Now that I've finished In Stars and Time, I wanted to do some writing on my thoughts and favorite detail of the game, especially regarding the relationship between the Protagonist (Siffrin) and the player:

ISAT SPOILERS BELOW

So, if you're reading this post, you've finished ISAT.

One detail I really wanted to explore was the player's experience as Siffrin. From the beginning, you're often treated as a typical player-protagonist relationship; you have one consistent character you see the story through the lens of, and interact with other characters and items in the universe through their hands and interactions.

Though at first, you as the player see chat notifications/text boxes (Memories, tutorials, etc.) that only you can see and that pertain to gameplay mechanics that wouldn't necessarily be deemed as canon-narrative things rather than just skills purely for the gameplay; it'd fourth-wall breaking and meta for the character to know what you as the player knows.

This is then immediately shattered by the character Loop, who reveals that they're the one talking to you when you see the text boxes about the Memories.

From then one, one detail I initially was iffy on but ended up loving was Siffrin developing as a character and individual separate from the player. Examples: Text options can be limited. Often at times, I found the only options there in a conversation to be things I never wanted to say, or there being no option at all other than one choice because Siffrin already knew what he as an individual wanted to say and what he was feeling at that time.

Siffrin had his own trains of thought on the loops. Can I be honest? I had caught on to the idea that perhaps Siffrin's wish and internal feelings of never wanting to separate from the party had been causing the loops far before your last run through Dormont and the House. By this point, you've seen Siffrin loop due to death, to being frozen in time, to scaring the party from wanting to travel with him by the way he killed a Sadness, to talking to the House Maiden after defeating the King and everyone declaring they'd go separate ways-- The only common denominator was every result ended in Siffrin being unable to continue on with the party for one reason or another.

Despite this, we still see him struggle to come to terms with any reasonings for the loops other than being hellbent that everyone wishing for a Savior for Dormont locked him into the cycle to begin with and because Mirabelle was dealing the killing blow on the King--not Siffrin--the defeat didn't count as his and he had to do it himself. Loop (the character) was very insistent that this wouldn't work and tried several times to get him out of this logic, but Siffrin had their mind set. You as the player cannot choose to stop Siffrin from this, at this point.

Funnily enough, despite all this marking Siffrin as an individual who is very sentient and independent of you, I found his emotional plight to be the same: I hate when games force you to lose your found family. I hate when you've spent 10-100+ hours building relationships and confiding in these people who you'd otherwise be lost without and have formed loving dynamics with, only to lose all contact or connection with them just because your journey is over. I understood his fear of change and abandonment and loneliness perfectly, and quite honestly, I felt the same every time the King was beaten--the reminder that damn, this is all just minutes from being over, if not for the loops.

So in the end, despite the writing very much turning Siffrin into his own character and individual whom we end up having minimal direct control over, he still ended up perfectly mirroring my sentiments.

And to be honest, I'm more attached to him than I have ever been to other protagonists because I've gotten to know him more individually than just use him as my marker or representation of myself in their universe.

#in stars and time #isat #venus flies #my thoughts #rpg #indie game #time loop

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beautifulpersonpeach · 1 year

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Bpp my love what do you think about people who bias hoseok (knowing hes one of your faves)

***

It’s a bit weird for me to answer this because then I’d also be talking about myself. But you asked, with an odd but sweet endearment attached, so I’ll try.

Deep down, we're all Type A bitches with a specific kind of kink. No point sugarcoating it. And Hoseok scratches that itch.

Whatever he is, we see it and we're mad for it. We’re all gaga for him and shameless about it.

I mean,

Holy Mary Mother of Christ that is a man who is serving cunt sweet and hot.

Not to be vulgar, it's just hard to talk about Hoseok, to think about the choices he’s made as an artist - the way he quietly supports the team with practical advise, the way he chooses when to use music or dance to communicate his point, the way he balances how severe he is in his beliefs and principles, with the emotional and physical needs and limitations of the team, his very palpable ambition as an artist and the skill he exhibits every time he gets in the booth or steps on a stage… It’s hard to talk about this man without wanting to bite my fist.

But one thing I do want to say before I lose the plot is I’m glad to see how healthy he looked at Yoongi's concert. He looked happy and content, alert and savvy, basically himself. And that made me happy. But with Hoseok, it's not like I really worried for him in the first place. You know? I think other Hoseok biases would agree or at least, know what I mean. Military service comes with specific challenges that I don't doubt he's capable of handling. Though it’s also possible he's not exposed to the most extreme risks, so that could be working in his favour as well.

When I think of Hoseok as a person, his conscientiousness is the first thing that grips my heart. It’s something Hoseok biases recognize instinctively I think. That man cares about the work he does. He cares so much about everything in his life, that sometimes I worry that he could burn out fast. But that care is also one reason he’s become one of the best in the field, at just 10 years into his career.

That care he puts into his work translates so beautifully into his music btw. As a quick experiment, I'd like you to listen to Dionysus.

(This is the extended version from Mama 2019)

youtube

What do you think? Have you heard anything that sounds exactly like that, anywhere? Have you ever heard a song that combines punk rock, synth-pop, and acid trap, to express the joy, anguish and momentary insanity an artist experiences when making the effort to create something worthwhile… a song that uses Dionysus - the God of fertility and wine, the patron of the arts, as the central lyrical motif. Do you notice the production choices in the pre-chorus and bridge?

Dionysus is easily one of the best made songs in all of k-pop. In my opinion. And it was made primarily by Jung Hoseok.

Hobi biases see that he’s the kind of person to care a lot. He takes constructive criticism seriously, he wants his craft to be assessed with no bias or favouritism. Just honest, raw, expressions and feedback, that’s one of his primary goals and you can see that in the lyrical and stylistic choices in Jack in the Box.

Hoseok biases see all that in him, and we cream our panties.

That’s the truth don’t lie.

This is going to sound so pretentious but it has be said because it’s true: Hoseok’s cerebral intensity, the way he loses himself inside his work, is such a turn on. I’ve said before that I can see why a lot of people in the fandom underestimate him or don’t really bother to look past the giggly, goofy, sweet and social media savvy Hobi cheerleading the members, but Hobi is the only member who could show up wielding a riding crop and I won’t laugh in his face.

Because we all know, he’d know exactly what to do with it, he’d enjoy pushing you to your limits because that is what he does himself, and that you’d enjoy it.

Hypothetically.

Anyway,

Another reason his conscientiousness matters to me, is because I recognize that for Hobi, the 'work' he loves includes his team. His love for his work boosts my confidence in BTS as a lasting unit. Because Hoseok cares too much about his work to risk losing them, simply because they are so connected to it.

It's so simple with him.

Taking it back to Hoseok biases, we like to act superior, like we're not also sluts for his visuals. We act like we appreciate him in a more holistic sense. But the fact is that we see him, and bark.

I'm just going to come out and say it. I'm proof. I barked. On reflex. I don't know how it happened exactly, but I saw this pic one Friday afternoon and the sound that left my mouth certainly wasn't human.

Generally and maybe hypothetically speaking here, toys are nice and all, but completely unnecessary when Hoseok exists and you’ve allowed yourself to be chosen by him. His music, his person, seeing him in his element is all it takes.

I mean…

The details… Sheesh.

Everything about Hoseok and his sense of style is a gag.

He’s just always, so Effortlessly himself.

….two fingers would be enough. Just saying. Two fingers would do the job.

He's too smooth for his own good.

Some people somehow forget this happened and well, now I'm reminding them. Look at him, really look at him... isn't he perfect?

This isn’t a hot pic but it’s one of my favourites of him. This is the only pic in this post from my top 30 Hobi pics. Enjoy.

When he does cute it's a very particular type of cute.

…

I miss Hobi.

This doesn't happen often, but sometimes I wish time didn't exist for a while and we could be in 2026 now. We'd get to see Hoseok 3.0 and my god will that be a sight. Their performances are already god-tier even in hiatus (thank God for those three encore concerts that showcased the active members in their element), so imagine how unrestrained they will be, how epic their performances will be then.

If there’s one thing I’m nearly certain about with BTS, it’s that the wait will always be worth it. And a big reason I can say that is because the team has Jung Hoseok.

I just hope Hobi biases can keep our shit together till then because heaven knows we’re…

You know.

Stream Jack in the Box, put an order in for your box set version if you haven’t gotten around to doing that yet, get yourself your caffeinated drug of choice (mine today is a flat white with whole milk. I’m not really an Americano gal), and enjoy Chapter 2.

#one more thing #this could be just me #but I love that he’s a scaredy-cat #I love that about him so much #It's the one thing that fully humanizes him for me #hoseok #jung hoseok #Hobi #j hope #BTS #Bangtan #bts rapline #rapline bias

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desultory-novice · 11 months

Text

Once again, my ask box is so packed that I'm bundling a few of these so I don't have to take up everyone's day/dashboard with posts!

This time:

-The Fate of Mirror Galacta Knight -Traitor Magolor vs Elfilis?! -Kirby from Undertale?! (Silly) -Other Characters Babysitting 10 Kirbys -Magolor and Daroach Thievery Dynamics -A Redemption Arc for Zero?! -The Love-Love Stick is The Best

Anon, your concept that there WAS a Mirror Galacta Knight but that they were defeated - perhaps by Galacta themselves - is awesome!! I think the concept that either one or both Galacta's maybe even has a goal to see the other versions of themselves destroyed, pre- or post-sealing, feels very in character for Gala. Perhaps Gala knows of the Dimensional Mirror and doesn't like the concept of falling prey to it. Perhaps Gala truly does seek power and will only be confident in themselves when they are THE only one. Or perhaps they see what's coming and want to stop themselves from banishment and imprisonment across countless dimensions.

As for Galacta borrowing something in memory of his mirror self.. why not, right?! I think that's very cool! Aeon hero is able to turn their wings black and change his armor. It's not out of the realm of possibility! (Nothing is too fanfiction-y to have as a HC! Because neither headcanons or fanfic is something to be ashamed of! So please, indulge in all the fanfic-y thoughts that you wish!)

As for the last part, I totally believe that Magolor saw or encountered Galacta Knight at some point. (I always thought it would be funny myself if the first time Magolor is made aware of Gala is the Lor recording a snipped of Galacta's battle with Meta Knight in the Meta Knightmare Returns. You know, that easter egg where you can sometimes see the Starcutter in the background when Gala attacks? And so Magolor is going through the logs and notices, "Wait, was that a dimensional rift we just passed by? Whoa! Who's the dude who looks like an angry Kirby fighting Meta Knight?! ...Wait, weren't there legends of someone like that in those old texts?")

@a-stardusted-sky

Ahh, thank you so much for the birthday wishes and the nice compliments! I hope you're having a lovely day yourself!

OMG, Traitor Magolor vs Fecto Elfilis in the battle of the big, self-important egos! I can't help but think that even though Magolor ought to have "unlimited power" thanks to the Master Crown, he feels a little limited in creative ways to use that power. Whereas Elfilis would probably have no end of ways to use their dimensional power to ruin Magolor's day! They're both super persistent though, so I imagine neither one would want to give an inch.

As for how Elfilis would react, I imagine those choice words would get even spicier upon seeing Magolor flitting around with the Master Crown. Honestly, if Elfilis has enough of an understanding of the powers made from THEIR power, they could simply toy with Magolor knowing that all they have to do is damage/overload the Crown and then just leave Magolor a gloopy mess.

Is it just me? Sometimes I think of Elfilis as one of those characters that doesn't even have WORDS when they get angry. I think their speech in Lab Discovera was somewhat practiced, and that the capsule had something of a restraining effect on their emotions. Whenever they're free, they're mostly seen roaring and wrathing at people (in contrast to the angelic beauty of their completed form.)

@emeraldcoloredwinter

Not that shocking...!

Pictured: A Peaceful Family Reunion?!

(PS: are there still proponents of the theory that Sans is Ness grown up or was that exactly the kind of theory we make fun of Game Theories for now? I'm so out of the loop...!)

...But also, does that make Gaster Dark Matter? Or some other form of Matter? (...Stop! You shouldn't ask questions you aren't remotely equipped to handle the potential response to, Dess...!!)

This is a concept that I absolutely love! And it's been explored so little from what I've seen?! There's that one, err, somewhat infamous(?!) animation series which... ah, congrats on them for putting in all that work to get it done, and I won't say anything negative about them including content that appeals to them personally when, from what I've seen, everything manages to stay in the proper rating. Plus, making a full animation series has got to be SUCH an endeavor that you likely need to write/draw what you love to keep yourself motivated/sane in order to finish but...it's not personally for me. ^^

(Reminds me a bit too much of some of the western animation of my childhood that I wasn't too fond of. Aka, the reason I pivoted to watching anime as soon as I had the chance. ^^; )

BUT that aside, I've also seen some cute fanart on Twitter and such of Magolor not babysitting the 10 Kirbys but commenting on them...and then trying to steal one or two of them while no one is looking to keep for the sake of teasing on his own!

But yes, the idea of other caretakers is rich!

I personally think, in an adventure scenario like Mass Attack, Magolor would have a great time "accidentally" misleading the Kirbys into non-lethal traps, just to see how they fare. Marx would absolutely be a pest to the mini Kirbys! I think, when the chips are down, he would defend them (Kirby is HIS to torment, after all!!) but in times of relative peace, he'd probably try to eat a few... just to see...

The Animal Friends are used to backing up Kirby and would step into the role with no problem. I think Rick would love to ferry the tiny Kirbys around, them clinging to his fur. I think Ribbon's reaction to the 10 tiny Kirbys could be very funny, although that probably depends on where you fall on shipping the two of them.

Meta Knight would be another one who would be really fun/zany for different reasons. I think he would initially TRY to be stoic and treat the 10 Kirbys as if they were as reliable on their own as regular Kirby but then the moment something happens to one of them (even if they ARE in fact okay) his stoic facade breaks and he becomes a nervous wreck/helicopter guardian mode!

The Mage Sisters feel like they would cover the whole spectrum of reactions! Francisca wanting to "keep" some for herself. Flamberge wanting to test how strong they are and laughing when they turn out to be only 1/10th the original Kirby's power. Zan being the one who just... can't stop being ~SHOOKETH~ about the whole thing. (And the fact that Flam and Fran won't stop giggling about the minis!)

Dark Meta Knight would probably swoop them up and them drop them on Shadow Kirby to deal with. Susie would probably be a relatively reliable helper, keeping in touch via her tech whenever any trouble shows... in exchange for the rights to merchandise the mini-Kirbys after everything is over. >w<

@icedragonlizard

Hee! I got around to reading some of your dynamics posts, by the way! They're really good! (I still have more to read through yet!) But yes! This is super cute! Especially since both their tastes lean toward the collection of the ancient... and dangerous!

It's absolutely one of those things where one or the other will be proudly talking about their latest haul/salvage and the moment they have their eyes turned, the other is walking out the door with it!

Neither means the other any harm, so it doesn't hurt their friendship any. But there is absolutely a twinge of jealousy.

"H-How did you...?! But... but... I've been looking for that EVERYWHERE!" "Looks like you were looking in the wrong places."

Everyone else is probably relieved by this strange dynamic they've got because it keeps most of the rest of THEIR collections safe!

Hmm, you know, I'm not certain that Zero as they are COULD have a redemption arc. They feel too... primordial for that. As if they are nothing more than the incarnation of what they can become, which renders them nil (fufu...) to change.

But Zero 2.... yes. I think there's room there. I think Zero 2 is a lot like Void in that they are searching for identity after their destruction and resultant... rebirth? (Or simply the act of living on in a new form? Zero 2 is such a fascinating mystery!)

But I think about the fact that while Zero's theme is just mystery and weirdness and fight music, Zero 2's theme is so... sad.

(Btw, I listened to Man on the Internet's Zero 2 with lyrics recently and really liked it. It had this great feeling of... inevitability to it? I'm typically a bit mixed on Kirby boss themes (:cough: I haven't yet found a Marx one I like though I really like some of the lyrical motifs in Itoki Hana's version :cough:) but I liked this one.)

Anyway, as for Zero 2's redemption, I think it would all tie back to the fairies, really. Zero 2 spent pretty much the entire length of the game possessing the Queen of Ripple Star and I'm one of those "you can't really possess someone/be possessed by someone without that having an effect on you. For both the possessor and the possessed."

And whether or not the Queen is one of the heroes of lore, we have reason to believe she is both a being of power and a powerful being for good. (Why else would Dark Matter target Ripple Star FIRST without getting near Popstar? Well, getting their non-existent tail kicked might have something to do with it! XD )

So basically, I imagine that either Zero 2 picked up...something from the Queen or that the Queen might take it upon herself to preserve some form of Zero 2. To give it a chance to redeem itself. Surely, this would wig out certain of the fairies, who still remember their home's invader, and I imagine Zero 2 to be something that would probably have a very hard time understanding the difference between doing good and doing evil - only that one gets praised and one doesn't.

They might never be able to understand. They might never be able to be a friend, or left alone with an innocent creature, as invasion and corruption could be so woven into their nature that they couldn't HELP but hurt it, even though no intention to do harm was there. But through a bond/a deal with the queen, they might be assist in helping other planets that Zero had harmed or at least be stopped from harming anyone else.

...I dunno. It's interesting though!

@newthinkerer

I love the Love-Love Stick so much! You're right in that it's so uniquely Kirby's! Not just as an artifact, but as a representation of what Kirby would do when a genki dama's worth of power is sent his way! (Sorry for the random DBZ reference!

That and Dess loves magical girls / maho shoujo shows so the fact that is a really good approximation of a magical transformation wand is also excellent in my book! (Let Kirby Be A Magical Girl!!)

Speaking of the maho shoujo genre... a decent variety of finishing attacks are about "healing" the inner darkness/corruption/violence of their opponent/monster of the week rather than destruction. That Kirby would fight Zero with love in an attempt to heal them/the damage they have done to Popstar... It's all too good!

(The fact that it destroys them and all the Dark Matter too is a bit sad. But Void takes damage from Friend Hearts so...)

I like your idea about Gooey too. Either taken perfectly literal or as a metaphor -- that Gooey couldn't/was afraid to tap into their Dark Matter origins until he was shown enough love and acceptance that it was safe for him, emotionally, to do so.

...But of course, the other best thing about the Love-Love Stick is that Kirby KEEPS IT after the events of Dream Land 3 only to proceed to use it to bap people over the head with it in Star Stacker SNES!! Gryll, you have the honor of being defeated by the same weapon that was used to obliterate Zero. And yet, Gryll totally survived. Gryll strongest last boss canon?!?

#Kirby #Dess Quick Asks #Galacta Knight #Magolor #Fecto Elfilis #Daroach #02 Kirby #Zero Kirby #and various other characters

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bassettmemes · 2 years

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NONSENSE, LOGIC, WICKED, VIRTUE ↳ lines from the wayward children series (books 1-3) by seanan mcguire.

"we notice the silence of men. we depend upon the silence of women."

"she was a story, not an epilogue."

"their love wanted to��fix her, and refused to see that she wasn't broken."

"this world is unforgiving and cruel to those it judges as even the slightest bit outside the norm."

"hope is a knife that can cut through the foundations of the world."

"the mountain was as powerful as the tide, just...in a different way."

"i am a genius of infinite potential and highly limited patience. people shouldn’t try me so."

"death was precious. that didn't change the fact that life was limited."

"nobody gets to tell me how my story ends but me."

"some adventures require nothing more than a willing heart and the ability to trip over the cracks in the world."

"every choice feeds every choice that comes after, whether we want those choices or no."

"time is the alchemy that turns compassion into love..."

"hope only got you hurt. hope was her least favourite thing, of all the things."

"it can be easy, in the end, to forget that children are people, and that people will do what people will do, the consequences be damned."

"beauty was all the brighter against a background of briars."

"there is kindness in the world, if we know how to look for it. if we never start denying it the door."

"that's why people shouldn't get too hung up on labels. sometimes i think that's part of what we do wrong. we try to make things make sense, even when they're never going to."

"adults can still tumble down rabbit holes and into enchanted wardrobes, but it happens less and less with every year they live."

"nobody promised me a happy ending. they didn’t even promise me a happy existence."

"we’re all puzzle boxes, skeleton and skin, soul and shadow."

"grave robbing was still viewed as socially inappropriate, and doing it when the sun was up was generally viewed as unwise."

"i never saved the day. i never challenged the gods."

"i still am a mermaid. i just have my scales under my skin now."

"i like existing. i'm not ready to unexist just because of stupid causality."

"elsewhere was a legend and a lie, until it came looking for you."

"you are not a cake, you are a human being, and I can see your vagina."

"everything fell apart."

"the children disliked pretending to be ordinary delinquents, sent away by their parents for starting fires or breaking windows, when really they had been sent away for slaying dragons and refusing to say that they hadn’t."

#sentence prompts #sentence starter #sentence starters #sentence meme #rp meme #meme #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #rp prompt #writing prompts #writing prompt #wayward children #wayward children sentence starters #wayward children rp meme #wayward children sentence meme #wc: b1-3 #wc

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its-a-ittle-bit-cold · 1 year

Text

Piece by Piece

1.8k

Mitchell!reader x dad!Maverick

series masterlist

my masterlist

a/n: I know, I know. Im starting a new series even though i haven’t finished by hunger games one, my clone wars one or my marauders one. I also have marvel series i started on ao3 that i haven’t updated in literally years.. and don’t even get me started on ted lasso.

I guess inspiration just strikes when it strikes.

anyway, here’s the fic

summary: Arrival to North Island means visiting the nearby Navy Bar, the Hard Deck, which is run by your dear friend Penny Benjamin. Of course, you’re not the only visitor that night.

warnings: verbal abuse, drinking, character death, trauma, unedited

It’s strange, how in just a few hours, your whole life can totally and completely change. In just a few minutes, the strangest things can happen - the worst and the best.

In the span of five minutes, you solidified your top spot in the top gun academy.

In the span of two, you ruined your relationship with your mom.

In the span of one minute and thirty seconds, Your best friend died because of a choice you made.

And within five minutes of that incident, you weren’t too far behind.

In one minute, sifting through a box your stepfather sent you, you find a picture you’ve never seen before: Your mother, wearing a smile you’ve never seen on her face before, wrapped in the arms of a handsome navy pilot, all teeth and jawbone and eyebrows.

And with thirty seconds of your arrival at the Hard Deck, that very same pilot comes waltzing in.

Penny pauses her conversation with you, about how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, how sorry she is for you, and strikes up a very similar conversation with him.

They have history, you can tell.

Penny taps the counter over the barstool next to you - one of the only ones available in the crowded bar.

It only takes his polite smile to cement it in your head that this is him.

This is your father.

You don’t let anything show through, though. You stir up your shirley temple and smile, introducing yourself as majesty.

“Ah. I’m in the Navy, too, you know. I’ve never met a Majesty before, though.”

“Well, sir, this is a Navy bar… and I was on leave up until just recently. It doesn’t surprise me that you haven’t heard of me, since I was stationed in the Peninsula before , and everything there is pretty hush, hush.”

“Maverick,” he says, smiling again, but genuinely. He holds out his hand and you shake it. “Pleasure to meet you, Majesty.”

“likewise, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I finally see someone I know.”

You bounce off, holding your drink tightly, acting as if your whole life hasn’t just been shaken up by a chance encounter at one of the many Navy bars in North Island.

Approaching the group of other lieutenants, you steal a glance back at him grinning at Penny with the same stupid lovestruck expression that you saw in the photo.

Yep. That’s him.

Maverick watches Majesty’s retreating form before she disappears in a group of rowdy pilots, wondering where he’s heard that name before. Majesty.

He vaguely remembers some news from the peninsula about a year ago, but as the lieutenant had said, the news from there is very limited and very filtered. Something about a pilot whose call sign was Duchess…

“Uh oh.” Penny’s deadpan voice interrupts his thoughts. “You’re thinking. That’s never good.”

She slides him his beer and he laughs softly at her joke.

“You know that pilot- Majesty - well?”

Penny glances over to where she disappeared into the group of pilots. She’s laughing along with the group while playing pool. They watched her take a shot.

The first thing he thinks is, she sucks.

“Yeah.. She’s a nice girl.” Penny starts deftly making a drink with the confidence of someone who’s done it a thousand times. “She watched Amelia for me when we were going through a divorce. Truly a lifesaver for both of us.” Penny meets his eyes. “She’s had a hard life, that one, and she’s not really ever had a reprieve from it, either. It’s good to see her laughing again.”

He sighs, knowing there’s a lot of pilots who joined up to get away from difficult families.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t recognize Bradley Bradshaw himself walking in until he walks up to Majesty and plants a kiss on her cheek,

He raises a hand.

“Penny, check, please?”

You’re having a surprisingly fun time at the Hard deck. You haven’t been clubbing since before you were deployed, and certainly not to a bar.

Who would you go with?

but the pilots you’ve met - and the old friends you’re seeing again are nothing but kind. (at least, to you. It’s been five minutes and Rooster and Hangman are already going at it)

Phoenix introduces you to the pilots you don’t know, but there aren’t many. You swim in the same circles as most of them.

You line up a pool shot and slide the stick quickly, aiming the white ball at a general cluster of colored balls, and missing all of them completely.

“Now that,” a cocky voice begins over your left shoulder, “That was an astoundingly awful shot, your highness.”

You turn to face Hangman, who’s significantly taller than you, but you still stare right into his eyes.

“I’ve never played before,” you defend. “And it’s Majesty.”

“Sure it is, darlin’. Lemme show you how to shoot pool.”

You cross your arms.

“Are you going to mansplain eight ball to her, Bagman?” Natasha- Phoenix - juts in.

“Yeah, are you?” You ask, voice intentionally provocative, meant to make him splutter. Frustratingly, he doesn’t, only coolly lines up a shot - making it perfectly.

“No, I’m offering to explain how to play properly, so it’s more fun for the both of us.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice.

Before you can respond with another teasing comment, the music shuts off, making way for a loud, unhappy groan from almost everybody in the bar.

You hear the familiar intro to Rooster’s favorite song, (It’s the only one he learned how to play) and hand the stick off to Bob, whose wide eyes widen even further.

“That’s my cue to leave,” You announce to the group. “I can’t listen to this song for the fifty-thousandth time.”

You blow a kiss to Phoenix and wave to the rest of the pilots, hugging Fanboy, a close friend of yours, and bid adieu to Penny, slipping her a twenty.

“Thanks Penny. See you later, yeah?”

Penny winks at you and waves. You lean into the door and press out into the cool night air, the sound of the ocean suddenly the only sound you can hear - besides Rooster’s muffled voice and piano playing.

You walk around the bar, getting ready to head back to base. The last thing you expect is to meet eyes with Maverick, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

Your voice startles him out of his daze. He shakes his head slightly.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

His eyes drift to Rooster again through the window, a peculiar expression passing over his face.

“…Well, I’m headed back to base. Have a good night, sir.”

You turn around, hands in your pockets, beginning the short walk back to the barracks.

“Wait. Do you mind if I join you?”

You shake your head ‘no’ and stop to wait for him to catch up with you. How strange is this, the man you just realized was tour father walking with you back to the barracks.

You walk down the beach in silence, watching the waves crash on shore. There’s not much to say.

“Are you here for the mission?” he asks eventually, finally, one of you breaking the silence.

“I.. actually don’t know, sir. They didn’t tell us anything but the fact that we had to be in class tomorrow.”

You meet his eyes, briefly analyzing his face before turning your gaze back to your boots in the sand. There are some features, you suppose, that are similar in your faces. little things, but if he’s your father, you definitely take after your mother.

“So.. yes. Then you must be a damn good pilot. Penny seems to think so.”

You laugh.

“Penny has what I like to call ‘Mom goggles.’ She thinks everything I do is the greatest thing ever.”

It’s his turn to laugh.

“‘Mom goggles’? I’ve never heard of that.”

“Well, you’re not married. Give it time and you’ll figure it out.”

Maverick puts his hands up.

“Hang on. How’d you know I’m not married?”

You gesture to his hand.

“No ring on your finger. And by the way you were shamelessly flirting with Penny literally all night.”

“I was not!”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself.

This could’ve been us.

you clear your throat, looking out over the sea. The sun has fully set, now, and you’re getting close to base. You yawn, covering your mouth.

You turn up the path to the base, in a comfortable silence when the your phone rings. You fumble through your pants, unzipping the pocket where you’ve stashed you phone. It reads one word, one you’ve been dreading.

Mom.

You cast Maverick an apologetic glance and then take the phone call.

“Hey, mom. What’s wrong?” You can hear the resigned sigh in your voice. Captain Mitchell has stopped walking, waiting for you. You shoo him away, not wanting to inconvenience him more.

Your mother’s voice is unintelligible. Staticky and blurred.

“My baby!” she finally says in words you can understand. “Where are you? I came home and looked in your room and you were gone!”

You rub your eyes.

“Mom. You’re drunk. Where’s Kevin?”

Usually, by this point, Kevin, your stepdad would step in.

Maybe, you think, somewhat bitterly, he’s come to his senses and left the crazy lady.

“Out,” is all she says. “You’re not still running around with the Navy, are you?”

She’s says the word Navy like it’s a slur.

“Mom-“

“Because this is just a phase, (y/n). You’ll get over it and realize that I was right all along. You don’t belong on the battlefield, you belong in school.”

“Mom, as a matter of fact, i love my job and i’m not planning on leaving it anytime soon.”

This is a conversation you’ve had many a time. Almost every time she’s drunk she calls you up to criticize your life choices.

“Then you’re a failure.”

“Gosh, I really wonder why I left.”

That’s when you hang up, abruptly cutting off your mother mid sentence.

You make it all the way to the barracks before you angrily start punching things. The nice thing about living on base again is the free gym available to you, so you change into a ratty old shirt and shorts and go down to the officer’s gym, where punching bags are already hanging.

You do a quick job of wrapping your hands, then begin the assault on a bag, sending it swinging with a punch.

You keep going and going and going until your knuckles feel like they’re bleeding or broken or at least bruised, and all the stress and anger with your mother has burned off.

You hit the shower after the gym, then collapse into bed.

Your phone is lit up with four call notifications and twenty six text messages from your mom, which you promptly ignore, silence your phone and fall asleep.

“Duchess, fly away!”

“Get out of there!”

“It’s okay.”

“Majesty!”

Your eyes snap open, your back and arms are covered in sweat. You hold your breath in and let it out, trying to calm your heartbeat.

You glance at the clock.

Jesus Christ, it’s only three in the morning.

This mission can’t come soon enough.

—

btw i know nothing about north island or the navy

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #mitchell! reader #pilot!reader #Dagger squad #natasha trace xreader #the hard deck #rooster x reader #new series #top gun maverick imagine #pete maverick mitchell #maverick x reader

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crystalsenergy · 10 months

Text

the Importance of Respecting the Plurality of Connections to Spirituality

Spirituality = plurality, diversity, and respect

In summary, Spirituality is pure Love. When we understand this, we come to realize that it is not up to us to define the best path for others' connection. The connection of others will always be established based on what they have carried with them for a long time.

Similarly to what happens with religious intolerance, when we are talking about spirituality, I also see a prejudice and hierarchy in the practices of those who are involved in Holistic Therapies and Spirituality.

Often, I have seen and still see people in the field of holistic therapies and spiritual connection conveying the idea that there is a "better" way to connect. Or that it is not possible to use more than one technique in their practice, as it would create a "confusion of energies."

This even comes from teachers, passing on such ideas to their students, who are often having their first contact with the holistic universe. Let's see...

Spirituality is one.

And frequently, in practices of Multidimensional Therapy (a holistic therapy that accesses other dimensions), we see masters coming together.

For example, when we come into contact with techniques that work with the energy of more than one master, such as Saint Germain, and at the same time, Master Jesus, and even Archangel Michael, we are not talking about "mixing energies" because > it is us who insist on putting things in boxes <.

We are the ones who seek labels and stereotypes.

They are autonomous, independent. They work exactly where it is needed according to their energy, vibration, and mission.

Here in the 3rd Dimension, we vibrate in the mental realm more than anything else. We want to rationalize things, believing that it is the same there. The mind is connected to the Ego. And the Ego is limited and sees things from specific perspectives.

So, when you come into contact with spirituality, try to dissolve your mind.

And please, let's try to convey less the idea that spirituality discriminates or is selective. Spirituality is one, and the doorways to connect with it are infinite...

So let's respect DIVERSITY and work on our limiting beliefs about connecting with spirituality.

If a person wants to work with more than one technique, that is their choice, and there is no need to speak of "mixing," but rather a wider range of keys to connect with spirituality. A broader range of opportunities.

Another point I feel is important to bring up is that not everyone needs to follow your path or exactly what YOU SAY should be done. Be careful of the Ego's arrogance and closed-mindedness. The Universe is so vast, so multiple, that we shouldn't limit the experiences of others - or our own!

If one vibrates with the energy of Love, why limit it? If one vibrates with the energy of seeking greater awareness, why block it?

Work on your limiting beliefs about Spirituality and what it means to connect with it. We respect your time, your process, but we also need to bring this idea to you.

The connection of others will always be established based on what they have carried with them for a long time. We don't know about our past, let alone others'. And if the being in front of you has a deep connection with Reiki and Radiesthesis at the same time, but has a stronger affinity for the former, there is no problem for that being to connect through both techniques.

And if we are talking about a Soul that has been accumulating knowledge from past lives and has a connection with various techniques. What do we have to do with that being's connection, which might also involve Angels/Archangels, Radiesthesis, Reiki, Radiant Tables, Tarot? What do we have to do with it?

Is there really such a thing as needing to use only one technique? There is no greater or better. There is what EACH ONE needs at their current stage of evolution.

Some still need to connect with much more certainty, having a link to spirituality through their rational mind. Here we encounter certain paradigms and barriers that can sometimes be present, but the connection still exists, and that's okay.

Others are much more open to spirituality and have an easier time dissolving the Ego/rational mind, logic, and Cartesian thinking when connecting with something greater. And that's also perfectly fine.

Some people have a deeper connection to spiritual aspects like magic, pacts, contracts, obsessions, and are drawn to working with their removal or study. And that's okay too.

Others prefer to work on harmonizing relationships or individuals. And that's okay as well...

And then there are those who want to work with many things, people who integrate a broad knowledge and awareness that there is much more than just one facet. They understand that life is not two-dimensional or three-dimensional but rather MULTIdimensional. And it's perfectly fine for these beings to work with whatever they choose.

We are not the ones with some kind of power or sufficient knowledge to approve or disapprove of others' connection practices.

Remember: we are here to EVOLVE. And if something bothers you so much in someone else's practice, look inside yourself to see if there's something to be worked on in that exact area (e.g., "I'm bothered by the subject of negative magic, obsessors" = I have a limiting belief about this and need to improve exactly in this area, open my mind to this point).

Similarly to what happens with religious intolerance, I also see a prejudice and an imposition of hierarchy or the right way to perform practices, or one Holistic Therapy being better than another.

Often, I have seen and still see people in the field of holistic therapies conveying the idea that there is a "better" way to connect. Or that it is not possible to use more than one technique in their practice, as it would create a "confusion of energies." This is a subject that should be approached with caution, without letting it turn into judgment and the hierarchization of techniques. Energy is almost one and the same. Spirituality is one. We don't need to define one single way of doing things.

And this even comes from teachers, transmitting such ideas to their students, who often are having their first contact with the holistic universe. Let's see...

They are autonomous, independent. They work exactly where it is needed according to their energy, vibration, and mission.

It is us who insist on putting things in boxes.

We are the ones who seek labels and stereotype.

So, when you come into contact with spirituality, try to work on dissolving your mind.

And, please, let's try to convey less the idea that spirituality discriminates or is selective. Spirituality is one, and the doorways to connect with it are infinite...

So let's respect DIVERSITY and work on our limiting beliefs about connecting with spirituality.

If a person wants to work with more than one technique, that is their choice, and there is no need to speak of 'mixing,' but rather a wider range of keys to connect with spirituality. A broader range of opportunities.

Another point I feel is important to bring up is that not everyone needs to follow your path or exactly what YOU SAY should be done. Be careful of the arrogance of the Ego and closed-mindedness. The Universe is so vast, so multiple, that we shouldn't limit the experiences of others - or our own!

If one vibrates with the energy of Love, why limit it? If one vibrates with the energy of seeking greater awareness, why block it?

Work on your limiting beliefs about Spirituality and what it means to connect with it. We respect your time, your process, but we also need to bring this idea to you.

#spirituality #spiritual limiting beliefs #spiritual awakening #spiritual development #crystalsenergy

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