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underworldreaderinserts · 3 years

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Hey, this is my first time doing a request and I don’t know if this is the right place to put it (I hope it is). But I was wondering if you do do multiple characters, if you could do (separate) headcannons for Zagreus, Thanatos, and Hypnos falling for someone completely mortal on the surface? Thank you so much and I’m really sorry if I didn’t input my request correctly!

Hello, love! No, you did absolutely fine, this is exactly where you’re supposed to submit your requests♡ Thank you so much for sending it in! I hope it’s to your liking♡ I’m so sorry it took so long to publish. The past few days have been hectic! But I’m back♡ Do these even count as headcanons? I’m so sorry-- I know you asked for them separate, but I thought of them all together, and I accidentally made a poly circle. Since this post is long enough already, I’ll leave them out, but please let me know if you’d want me to make a post with them! I had so much fun imagining and writing it that I couldn’t help myself♡ -- Ryan

Thanatos:

✧ Your modest, mortal life hadn’t been too grandiose; you worked as a humble physician, tending to your village in ways of medication and treatment, everything between minor procedures and check ups.

✧ In your line of work, death was no stranger. It wasn’t very frequent that patients died in your care, but when they did -- whether it was a life lost to infection, injury, or illness -- they were only in extreme cases. (Needless to say, Thanatos had made all those visits to your practice)

✧ In the beginning, he'd refrained from any involvement in your life -- only watching over the soul whose allotted time was running out before reaping them, then departing.

✧ But one day, he’d watched you fighting to keep your patient alive. Tears streaming down your face as you did everything in your power to stabilize the boy. His parchment read, ‘name; Nicos, age; 10, cause of death; injury by stampede’.

✧ He knew that he’d have no other choice but to take the boy’s soul -- living with those irreversible damages would be a worse outcome.

✧ After that, he began to notice things he never did before.

✧ The care you put in to making your patients comfortable before they passed. How you went above and beyond caring for them, and giving preventative measures to prolong their life (though he’d still be there to take the soul regardless, he’d watched as you did your best to preserve their life). All of it showed how limitless your strength was.

✧ “He’s.. doing fine. The boy.” You heard a voice one day, an unfamiliar one. You turn around from the bookshelf you stand before, holding a journal and a vial of ointment.

✧ “Excuse me?” You blink, asking the stranger softly, taking in his features. He wasn’t from the village, you were aware of that. The village rarely had travelers passing through, and given this man’s robes and garments, you weren’t quite sure he was an ordinary man.

✧ “Nicos. He’s doing well.” The man wields his scythe, gently shifting its weight from one hand to the other. Your eyes widen as it dawns on you. “Than..atos?” Correctly identifying him, he seems to give a small bow of his head.

✧ You do as any sane person would, in the presence of a god; you drop everything in your hands and take a step back. You had enough reason to believe him -- after all, you knew everyone in this village, and Nicos had passed months before his arrival. There was no way he’d have known.

✧ “Are you... Is it my time?” You ask, leaving Thanatos a bit puzzled. “Are you here to collect my soul?” You repeat, and the understanding visually clicks in Thanatos, and he chuckles, shaking his head. Of course, you’d believe he’d come for your soul, as he’d only ever appeared before humans who have met their time. “Then... What is it you’ve come for?”

✧ You’d asked the million dollar question. Why had he even appeared before you? What was it that drew him out like this? “I... Can’t tell you myself. I just came to tell you, he’s doing well.” And with a toll of a bell, he’d disappeared. No word of goodbye, no mention of ever coming back.

✧ Reflecting on what had just happened; The God of Death himself had come into your home, just to tell you that Nicos was alright. It warmed your heart to take comfort in that, knowing that he was no longer in pain.

✧ Sitting on the situation a little longer, and judging by that little bit of information, it finally dawned on you that he was there, personally, for that event, and that he’d thought of you enough to reassure you.

✧ Due to his work, Thanatos makes frequent trips to the surface.

✧ Frequent trips to the surface, meant frequent visits (where he could, of course. Lord Hades would have his head if he didn’t prioritize his job).

✧ At first, he refrained from any sort of involvement in your life -- he’d come for his job, and nothing more. But now he seeks you out. He’ll stop by to check in, or even just to see your face. And one thing differs now, when he comes to reap the soul’s whose allotted time had run out.

✧ “Take good care of them, Thanatos.” You’d smile softly as you place a coin over your patient’s mouth, voicing your little prayer to him. You said this each time, too, and it made him think you could see him.

✧ He wasn’t sure when it began, but thoughts of seeing you as he carried out his job filled him with a warm, soft feeling.

Hypnos:

✧ In charge of the census of the dead, Hypnos was aware of how everyone dies; when they died, and where they end up in the Underworld.

✧ He found that his job became so ingrained in his being that, when he’d drift off at work, his dreams would take him to visions of the lives of some of the mortals he had met, or have yet the pleasure of meeting when they come to the underworld.

✧ Most of these dreams always tie back to a particular individual -- someone who seems to touch the lives of everyone they’ve ever met.

✧ At first, he’d just assumed that you’d met and knew everyone in the world, as the only common denominator throughout these dreams was you. But upon further evaluation of that statement, he had determined that was impossible.

✧ Next, he had to admit that perhaps he was drawn to you. Whether it was a connection the Fates mandated, or it was his subconscious actively seeking you out, he’d have these visions of your life, these interactions with the people in your life.

✧ An image of your smile, the depiction of an experience you had. You’d invaded his dreams, and eventually his thoughts.

✧ Being shackled to the House, and without the luxury that Thanatos or Zagreus have to go to the surface, Hypnos only has a very one-sided means of interacting with you; and though he doesn’t know you, he’s very drawn to you.

✧ It’s curious. As he’s seen all these snippets of your life, he feels he simultaneously knows everything about you, yet nothing about you at all. He could see these candid shots of your life, but he doesn’t know your dreams, your ambitions, or even the sound of your voice.

✧ With his thoughts always falling back to you, he’s a bit more spacey on the job, receiving reprimands from Hades more and more often, looks judgement from his brother, and looks of solemn understanding from his mother.

✧ Achilles teases him, recognizing traits of “a lovesick puppy”, but never really gets an answer on what that means (he might even observe Cerberus for a while to see if he can understand it a little more).

✧ He awaits enthusiastically, and a tad bittersweetly, for your eventual arrival to the Underworld, desiring nothing more than to meet you, and to hear your experiences of life on the surface.

⚠️Spoilers Ahead!! ⚠️

Zagreus:

✧ Most of your mortal life is spent in Persephone’s vibrant and luscious gardens.

✧ You lived not too far from her cottage, and you made frequent visits to her, bringing her goods and gifts from the market, and the words from all the gossipers of the town.

✧ As far as you knew, she was the only one who lived here, and she didn’t seem to have any family of her own. Taking care of her gardens seemed to be her passion, and to be honest you enjoyed her company. There was something about her, so lively and inviting, that made it hard to stay away for long.

✧ Trips to Persephone were always fragrant, delicious, and warm, despite the permanent snow in the region. Conversations over meals, fishing by the river, and of course time spent in the garden where you got to watch your toils bear great produce.

✧ One day, you return to the cottage, a basket of bass and trout resting on your hip as you walk. The plan was to make a profit selling them in town, and use the coin to get better tools for the garden and the kitchen.

✧ Though, on the way to the cottage, you notice scorched earth in the shape of a bare footprints. The trail leads up to the garden, where you find Persephone with a man you’ve never seen before. A man like you’ve never seen before.

✧ You watch on as Persephone embraces this ethereal form, whose skin is much like ash and moonstone. He looked beyond out of place, yet, something about him felt so familiar.

✧ Focused on the two before you, carelessly unaware of your surroundings, you snap a branch under your foot, alerting them of your presence. The stranger flinched, tensing as he pulls his guard up. He turns to meet your eyes, and whatever words you’d formed in your mind vanished.

✧ One red, one green -- his eyes bore into yours as you admire his. That electrifying moment of attraction ends in time with Persephone clearing her throat.

✧ No one needed to say anything for you to recognize he’d had the same energy as Persephone. You could deduct immediately that he was her son. But nonetheless, Persephone’s words broke the silence, “[Y/N], This is... my son. This is Zagreus.”

✧ “Zagreus..” You sit a moment, tasting his name as it falls from your tongue, and it was something about the way you said his name that drew a shiver up his spine.

✧ “[Y/N]... Have you been here the whole time? How much did you hear? Do the Olympians know of you, too?” His questions went miles a minute, but made no sense to you. “Why would the Olympians...? What, do you mean the Gods?” You ask, and Zagreus exchanged a look to his mother, recognizing his own mistake.

✧ However, he’d reached his limit in that moment, and Zagreus clutched his chest, stumbling. Immediately, you drop your basket in worry, and go over to help him maintain his balance. Persephone placed her hand on your shoulder, and you watched as his body faded away.

✧ It was then, between that day and the next visit Zagreus paid to the garden, that the whole truth was told to you. How Persephone was actually the daughter of Demeter, the cause of the perpetual snow, and Zagreus was her son with the God of the Underworld, Hades.

✧ Since the day he’d met you in his mother’s garden, his curiosity was piqued.

✧ How long had you been visiting his mother? If you hadn’t known she was a Goddess of Olympus, what was it that drove you to help her? His heart beat faster with his recount of your eyes, your voice, your worry as he felt the tug of the Styx back to the Underworld.

✧ His mission remained escaping to see his mother again, and again, but he found himself hoping each time that you were there.

✧ To try the food that you’d make for him. To hear the newest rumor that was spreading around the town. To help around the garden, and see you glow with happiness as each of the plants met maturity.

✧ You’d invaded his mind, tugging at the strings of his heart -- and on the days when you were away from the garden, his mother had no problems teasing him about his crush on you. Though, she admits, if she’d have to give her only son away to anyone, it would absolutely be you.

#Zagreus x Reader #Hypnos x Reader #Thanatos x Reader #Zagreus Headcanons #Hypnos Headcanons #Thanatos Headcanons #SFW Zagreus #SFW Hypnos #SFW Thanatos #SFW Headcanons

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moiraineswife · 3 years

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Innocence Died Screaming - An Adolin & Jasnah Fic

I RETURN. I RETURN WITH EMOTIONAL KHOLINS TO MAKE YOU ALL EMOTIONAL TOO!!! ENJOY!!!!!!

Title: Innocence Died Screaming

Rating: T Content warnings: mentions of accidental mother murder

Summary: Set loosley pre-Rhythm of War. Jasnah requests some duelling training from her expert duelist cousin. Adolin sees it as a way to spend more time bonding with his cousin. He gets a little bit more than he bargained for when Jasnah calls him out as only Jasnah can for always putting himself down. They have a good heart to heart and I have Emotions.

Teaser:

'“Truthfully?” Adolin said, stalling for time.

“Always,” Jasnah said, with aching sincerity, because she was Jasnah.

“You suck,” Adolin replied bluntly, unable to find a fancier way of saying it to soften the blow.

Jasnah just smiled at that, then gestured at him, “Hence the reason you are here with me presently.”'

Link: AO3

Wit answered the door to Jasnah’s chambers with a flourish when Adolin knocked. Uncharacteristically, there was no quip. Probably because he’d seen Adolin bracing for one, and didn’t want to seem ‘predictable’. Though how anyone was supposed to predict someone like Wit was beyond him.

“Jasnah, your beefy cousin has arrived to demonstrate the intricacies of hitting people with large metal sticks,” he announced to the room behind him where Jasnah was no doubt working.

He made to sweep out after that declaration, but Adolin caught him by the arm and raised an eyebrow, “Beefy cousin?” he repeated, incredulous.

“Well it couldn’t be handsome cousin, Adolin,” Wit replied smoothly, “That’s how I announce Renarin!”

Adolin opened his mouth to reply to that, then closed it again, grinning, imagining Renarin’s face if that was, in fact, how Wit announced him.

“What’s wrong with ‘Adolin’?” he asked instead, scratching his head.

“Well it’s just so boring,” Wit said conversationally, lounging against the door and grinning at him. “Jasnah has a very difficult, taxing job,” he explained, with an almost conspiratorial air, “I need to seize any opportunity I can to inject a little humour into her life.”

If rumours were to be believed, humour wasn’t the only thing he was injecting Jasnah with at the moment.

Adolin didn’t say that. He did note, however, as his cousin approached them, that the two of them were alone, without a chaperone.

That wasn’t entirely surprising. Jasnah had always just kind of done things her way. And she was a woman nearing her fortieth Weeping. But still. There were some rules you just shouldn’t bend, even if you were Queen.

Though Pattern wasn't exactly a model chaperone for me and Shallan, so I probably shouldn’t be judging Jasnah that harshly, he admitted ruefully to himself, grinning a little, then immediately hoping Wit hadn’t noticed.

Wit, fortunately, had eyes only for his queen at that moment.

“Enjoy yourself, Brightness,” he was saying, waving an elegant hand at Jasnah, “Try not to hurt him too much.”

He clapped Adolin on the shoulder, winking, then withdrew at a nod from Jasnah.

Clearly his departing when Adolin arrived was a prearranged agreement between the two of them.

Adolin wasn’t entirely sorry about that. He liked Wit, might even be storming fond of him at this point, but he would be more relaxed without him in earshot of his every word.

“Cousin,” Jasnah said, nodding to him in greeting.

“Jasnah,” Adolin returned, grinning and stepping forwards to embrace her.

All of them had had to get used to more hugs from him in the recent months. His father had been the one who had always rebuked him for it, while his mother had always encouraged him. Given recent events, he found himself more inclined towards listening to his mother.

Besides, since losing Elhokar, he’d had his eyes opened to how precious his family was. He had loved his cousin, and his king, but he hadn’t felt as close to him as he’d wanted.

He’d felt similarly towards Jasnah, and was determined not to let that happen again. She was his family. And as his family, she got a hug when he saw her. And had been forced to get used to him dropping by more often to spend time with her and get to know her properly. She seemed more comfortable with that than the hugs.

She was used to them by now though, and tolerated it, awkwardly patting him on the back to indicate she’d had enough of his affection for the day. He drew back, grinning.

“Shall we get started?” Jasnah said briskly, stepping into a large section of her chambers she’d had cleared of furniture.

She was also wearing a messenger style havah - shorter than the traditional garment, with high slits in the sides to allow for swift movement, and leggings underneath for dignity’s sake. Very practical, very Jasnah.

“Sure,” Adolin said, following after her.

He’d been surprised when she’d sent him a note requesting some training from him in dueling, but had been eager to accept. It would help with his new cousin-bonding goals. And he was always happy to help someone learn how to properly use their blade.

“I’ve seen you fight a little with your Shardblade before,” he said, as they moved into position, “During the battle of Thaylen City. You were mostly Soulcasting, but you used your blade a couple of times, too. So I know you’re not totally useless.”

“Thank you for that assessment, Adolin,” Jasnah replied coolly, though there was a hint of a smile in her eyes when she said it.

Adolin blushed slightly, “What I meant was that you at least have some idea what to do. So I thought it might be best if you summoned your blade and showed me a few stances and movements that you know already? Do you know any katas?”

“A few,” Jasnah replied, “Though they may be unfamiliar to you.”

“Pick one,” Adolin said, leaning against the wall, well out of the way, “Go through it as you normally would. I’ll observe and see what needs to be corrected from there.”

“Very well,” Jasnah said, nodding her assent at this plan.

Adolin folded his arms across his chest, feeling a little odd. He’d given instruction to Shardbearers before. Zahel had sometimes had him help assist in the training of men on the practice grounds. Zahel didn’t much care that he was a prince, he’d been there, and that had been enough.

He’d also given Shallan and Radiant extensive training now in the use of her blade. He wasn’t a stranger to being a teacher, and he found that he enjoyed it, especially as something productive he could do for the new Radiants in the tower.

He’d just never expected to be doing it with Jasnah.

Though, as she summoned her blade, he did feel there was something appropriate about the image of Jasnah Kholin standing there with a glimmering sword in hand. A completeness to the picture. Shallan would have wanted to sketch it, he was sure. He’d have to invite her along to one of these sessions, if they became a regular occurrence.

“Very nice,” Adolin said, nodding approvingly as he examined the gleaming length of her weapon.

He’d seen it before, but never up close or with the ability to take in the details. It was an elegant weapon, like Jasnah herself. Long and slender, with a slight curve to it.

Jasnah held it comfortably. Because how else would the storming woman hold it? No one had yet managed to discover something Jasnah Kholin was objectively just bad at.

She frowned at this comment, “I haven’t started yet,” she pointed out.

Adolin grinned at her. “That’s a bit arrogant of you, Your Majesty,” he teased. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he added, “I was talking about your sword," he nodded to it, "Very nice indeed.”

Jasnah glanced at the blade and her usually impassive features displayed a look of momentary surprise.

“Ivory says thank you,” she informed him. A pause, then she continued, “He says that he worked hard on perfecting the design and shape of this form.”

Adolin nodded his approval. The attention to detail was obvious, and told him a lot about Ivory, and why he worked so well with Jasnah. Jasnah was all about the details.

A slight crease formed between her eyes as she added, sardonically, “He also wishes me to pass on that he is pleased someone has taken notice. Finally.” She pursed her lips.

That made him smile again. He raised a hand and faked a cough to cover his urge to laugh at his cousin's expression.

He had never met, or even glimpsed, Jasnah’s spren, except when he was summoned as a blade. According to her he was a private individual, who preferred not to be seen where possible. He sensed there was something deeper to it than what she’d said, but hadn’t pressed the issue.

Still, it was hard not to find Jasnah’s long-suffering tone oddly endearing for what it spoke of regarding their relationship.

“I see Ivory is a man, uh, spren,” he corrected hastily, “Of fine taste, like myself," he said, with a small bow.

“Yes,” Jasnah replied, with a slight roll of her eyes, “Well if you’re both finished admiring swords for the moment, perhaps we could begin?”

Adolin blushed slightly at the innuendo, which wasn’t something he was used to hearing from Jasnah.

“You’ve been spending too much time around Wit,” he muttered, before he could think better of it.

Fortunately, Jasnah only smiled at that, and made no remark.

Adolin hastily gestured for her to continue, and concentrated on observing her form, rather than considering the tangled rumours of her and her wit. That was not why he was here.

There was clearly something practiced about the motions of the kata, but it was obvious she hadn’t trained much, and that whoever had trained her previously hadn’t been very good at correcting small, but obvious, mistakes.

There was nothing overtly wrong with what she did, but there were obvious improvements to be made that he could spot straight away.

“Not bad,” he said, moving away from the wall, summoning Maya as he went, so that he could demonstrate, “Your stances have the right shape, but you need to commit to them more.”

He gave her a slight nudge with his elbow as he reached her and she wobbled, which illustrated his point, though she seemed displeased by it. Not at him, he sensed, but at herself.

“Sink down into them,” he said, showing her, “Anchor yourself, like a tree, roots planted deep into the ground.”

Jasnah studied him for a moment with a critical eye, then replicated what he’d shown her, exaggerating the stance she’d chosen as demonstrated.

“Good,” Adolin said, nodding in approval, “Alright, your grip, don’t overlap your hands like that, there’s room on the hilt for both hands to rest comfortably. Ivory’s not a bastard.”

He chuckled to himself at the joke. Jasnah just raised her eyebrows.

“A bastard sword is another name for a hand-and-a-half,” he explained with a shrug.

Jasnah sniffed, “I think perhaps you might have been spending too much time around Wit.”

There was no danger of that. If he wasn’t with Jasnah he was nowhere to be found these days. Adolin didn’t point that out either. Not while Jasnah had a shardblade in her hands, anyway.

Instead he cleared his throat and carefully corrected the placement of her hands on Ivory’s hilt.

“Alright, try that,” he said, gesturing for her to repeat the kata she’d just completed.

“Better,” he said, nodding, “You’re right, by the way,” he told her, as she continued to implement what he’d just shown her, “I don’t recognise this kata. Who taught you?”

She glanced at him as she turned, then grunted, “Swordmaster Katar," before continuing the sequence.

Adolin frowned, “Elsecalling lets you jump between here and Shadesmar, right?” he said.

“Yes,” Jasnah replied slowly, seemingly confused by the question.

“Does it let you jump through time, too?” he said, “Because otherwise I don’t see how Swordmaster Katar trained you. Since I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“He lives on in the books he left behind,” Jasnah said, “As do all great historical figures.” She added, with a slight smirk, "I'm glad at least some of them made enough of an impression for you to take note of them."

Adolin put his hands on his hips, and snorted with laughter, unable to stop himself, “Only you would try to learn dueling from a book, Jasnah,” he said, shaking his head.

Jasnah drew up at that and replied, blandly, “When I first bonded with Ivory eight years ago, there weren’t a lot of living swordmasters who were willing to train a heretic woman displaying ancient, forbidden powers steeped with negative connotation after the original Knight’s betrayal." She met his eyes and half-shrugged, mildly "I improvised.”

Adolin scratched his nose awkwardly and coughed to cover his momentary embarrassment, “Fair enough,” he muttered, “Given that, you’ve done pretty amazingly, I’m impressed.”

“And without the context of my…Unorthodox education?” she asked, seeming genuinely curious about the answer.

“Truthfully?” Adolin said, stalling for time.

“Always,” Jasnah said, with aching sincerity, because she was Jasnah.

“You suck,” Adolin replied bluntly, unable to find a fancier way of saying it to soften the blow.

Jasnah just smiled at that, then gestured at him, “Hence the reason you are here with me presently.”

“You have done well on your own,” Adolin told her, honestly, wanting to clarify his words. He hadn't expected her to agree with him, and that had thrown his response a little, "But-”

“But context can only excuse one’s lack of skill so far,” Jasnah supplied smoothly, “Before relying upon it simply becomes an awkward crutch to attempt to justify your inability.”

“Sure,” Adolin agreed, nodding at her. Did she always have to talk like she was writing a new academic text? Storms. “Let’s get back into it, okay?” he suggested.

Jasnah nodded at once and complied with his instruction without a word.

It felt very strange to be giving Jasnah orders. Stranger still to be instructing her, and correcting her. And even more strange that she deferred to him on everything and took whatever he said on board without question or hesitation.

After a little while of this, he paused in the middle of a sequence, shaking his head, bemused. Jasnah drew up, noting his expression.

“What is it?” she asked, straightening up and raising an eyebrow at him.

“This is just...Weird,” he said, running a hand absently through his hair, unable to find a more eloquent way of putting it.

“Because I’m a woman?” Jasnah guessed evenly.

“No,” Adolin said, waving a dismissive hand, “I got over that months ago with Shallan.”

Jasnah smirked slightly at that, but made no comment.

“It’s just-” he struggled to find the words to explain his emotions, “It’s you,” he said finally, which he knew wasn’t entirely helpful. “You’re Jasnah,” he added. Which was about as useful as his earlier sentiment.

“I’m aware of that,” Jasnah replied, slowly, clearly struggling to piece together what he was trying to say.

“It, well it-” Adolin stammered, feeling as lost as he would have if she'd asked him to summarise Aunt Navani's fabrial lecture for him, grappling with fitting his unwieldy emotions into insubstantial words.

“It feels strange for me to be teaching you anything," he managed finally, "You’re Jasnah storming Kholin. The world famous scholar. This fantastic thinker, and historian, and all of that," he said, gesturing expansively before he said, voice and hands falling flat, "I’m Adolin, the family idiot, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Silence stretched between them for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“I think that we should take a short break,” Jasnah announced abruptly, dismissing her blade.

Adolin decided not to point out that they’d barely been going for an hour, and with Stormlight, there was no way she actually needed a break. If he’d been Zahel he’d have laughed at this suggestion. But he wasn’t. And he knew better.

Jasnah would do what Jasnah wanted to do. She was already heading towards the seating area of her chambers. The easiest thing to do was to thank Maya, then dismiss her and follow his cousin.

Jasnah was pouring them both wine, orange for her, yellow for Adolin, and pushed the cup towards him, settling on the couch and gesturing him to the seat opposite her.

Sighing, Adolin accepted the cup, and the chair, and sat down as indicated.

Jasnah was eyeing him over the rim of her own cup, considering him like some dusty historical treatise she was trying to pry secrets from.

“I’ve noticed that you do that a lot, Adolin,” she remarked finally, lowering the cup.

“What? Drink?” Adolin joked, rather feebly.

Hastily he raised his own cup and taking a gulp of the wine. It was good. Jasnah had appropriately fine taste. But there was a bad taste in his mouth. Less from the wine, and more from the memories that rose at the mention of indulging in it too often.

“Put yourself down,” Jasnah said bluntly, ignoring his attempt at humour. “Particularly with regards to your own intelligence. You seem overly fond of comparing yourself negatively in that regard to those around you.”

Adolin shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took another sip of his wine before he answered.

“Kind of hard not to,” he said, aiming to keep his voice light, “I mean there’s you. Aunt Navani, Shallan, Renarin. Wit’s never normally far from you, either. Even the Storming Bridgeboy-” He caught himself, realising he’d probably slipped into sounding more resentful than he’d intended.

No doubt Jasnah had noticed. But he lounged back in his chair, giving her an easy grin to try and smoothe over the sticky moment.

With a shrug he said, “I’m just surrounded by a lot of really smart people all the time. It’s natural to make comparisons.”

“Hm,” Jasnah replied, in a way that suggested she didn’t at all believe him, “Yet I don’t see you comparing yourself in other areas. You never remark on your lack of ability to draw while around Shallan, for instance. You don’t talk about the fact you can’t set a fracture when you’re around Kaladin. You’ve never once mentioned not being able to play the flute while around me.”

“You still play the flute?” he deflected, while actually being vaguely interested in the answer.

Jasnah, again, ignored him. Which was getting annoying. Shallan was a lot easier to distract and divert off course whenever she mentioned things like this. Which he did every time she tried.

“And you also don’t seem to point out the areas where those around you are lacking, either,” Jasnah continued, with characteristic unavoidable intent. “Even if they also form easy points of comparison. I don’t hear you disparage my lack of ability in the areas of personable conversation. Nor Kaladin’s inability to process failure. Or Shallan’s lack of focus. The only person whose perceived flaws you feel the need to accentuate are your own.”

She raised her eyebrows pointedly at him and settled back in her chair, raising her cup to her lips again, watching to see how he reacted.

Storms. He’d forgotten how sometimes conversing with Jasnah could feel like going to battle. Usually his head hurt less after the actual battles, too.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what she’d said, and the point she was driving at.

“I guess,” he said, not looking at her, “I guess it’s just...Easy to feel less than surrounded by a bunch of genius Radiants all the time. And you are all smarter than me, you can’t deny that,” he said quickly, pointing at her in accusation.

“No,” Jasnah agreed slowly, “But it’s also not something you should seek to highlight in nearly every conversation.”

“I don’t-” he began.

“You do,” Jasnah interrupted, voice surprisingly gentle, yet unyielding as ever. “You always find some way to mention your lack of comparable academic capability. Even in situations where it has little to no relevance. Such as our dueling practice earlier”

Adolin sighed, “I suppose you’d take exception to me pointing out that my lack of, what was it, ‘academic capability’ is really hurting my ability to properly argue with you right now?”

Jasnah smiled thinly at that, “It would serve to highlight my point rather well, actually. So on this sole occasion, feel free.”

He groaned, “No offence, but I really hate talking to you sometimes, Jasnah.”

She inclined her head as if to say she understood, and agreed, with that sentiment. He found that curious about her. Most people shied away from criticism or insults. Jasnah seemed to welcome them, like a rockbud opening up to gorge itself on storm rains. Maybe because so few people were ever brave enough to tell her what they really thought.

“You could point out that this is an area where I am not particularly skilled,” she said, swirling her wine thoughtfully, “Talking with others. Connecting. Encouraging them to open up. Empathising with their emotions and struggles.” She met his eyes again as she said, lightly, “An area in which you excel, I might add. Perfectly reasonable grounds for one of your comparisons.”

“I would never say that to you,” he protested without thinking.

Only after he caught the triumphant glimmer in Jasnah’s eye did he realise that she’d maneuvered him into that to make her point. He glowered at her.

“Can we get back to dueling again?” he growled, “I have a sudden urge to start hitting you with Maya.”

She just smiled at him.

Adolin flopped back in his chair, running a hand through his hair again, “It’s just. It’s hard, Jasnah,” he admitted, his voice softening a little, though he avoided her penetrating gaze as he spoke, “I feel like I blinked and the entire world was pulled out from under me like a rug. I’m still struggling to get back to my feet while the bridgeboy is soaring in the sky, and my wife is infiltrating cults. Oh, and my brother has visions of the future, and my father is communing with the Storming Stormfather. And you’re the most powerful Radiant we have and I’m...Still just me.”

“I understand,” Jasnah said quietly.

Adolin snorted before he could stop himself.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, Jasnah,” he said, sitting up and putting a hand on her arm, “I just find it hard to believe that you of all people can possibly understand what this feels like.”

Jasnah was quiet for a moment, tapping her finger on the side of her cup, then she said, “I spent years researching the Desolations. I collected hundreds of fragments from ancient texts detailing everything I could find related to the Radiants, Urithiru, the Voidbringers, and the events that had nearly destroyed mankind. I barely slept, barely stopped, barely rested for years to accumulate all the knowledge I could.”

“I know,” Adolin said, scratching his head, unsure why she was telling him this, “Shallan told me.”

Jasnah nodded, then continued, “I was the newest Radiant, I have achieved the highest Ideal of any of the people we’ve found. I am the most practiced with my powers, the most accomplished. At one time I had more knowledge, and more experience, with the Radiants, and the Desolations, than almost anyone else on Roshar.”

“Isn’t that what I said?” Adolin asked, bemused.

“Then the Ghostbloods sent assassins after me on the Wind’s Pleasure. I was stabbed through the chest and almost killed and ended up Elsecalling accidentally for the first time and became trapped in Shadesmar,” she went on, tone barely changing, even as she described this traumatic event.

Adolin winced at that. He remembered the reports that had come in claiming the Wind’s Pleasure lost with all hands. At the time he’d been so worried about Shallan he’d barely spared a thought for Jasnah.

Of course, Aunt Navani’s insistence that she was fine had been a little distracting, but… He should have been more distressed at the news of Jasnah’s presumed death. Even if it had turned out to be false.

She was family. Even if she was a little odd, and they had never really spent all that much time together or gotten to know each other that well. He was working to change that with her.

After Elhokar’s death… Well, he had realised how precious his family was. He wanted to make the most of the people he had left.

“Having been lost there yourself, you’re aware it’s not exactly easy to get out. Or to navigate through, particularly without supplies or Stormlight.”

Adolin nodded, grimacing at the memory. It couldn’t have been easy for Jasnah, trapped there, alone, with no preparation or warning. She’d never really spoken about it to him. Or, as far as he knew, to anyone.

She’d published accounts of what had happened to her there, and he’d had Shallan read them to him but… They were put across with Jasnah’s usual academic slant. There wasn’t any mention of how she had felt, or how it had affected her. That wasn’t really Jasnah’s way.

Her voice was softer when she continued, with a sigh, “When I emerged at last it was to find that the Desolation had already come. The Everstorm had been loosed across Roshar, the Singers had awoken. All of my fears had been realised without my even being there to witness them.

“In my abseence my uncle had refounded the Knights Radiant, with him as the Stormfather’s Bondsmith. My cousin was a budding Radiant, my ward was another, and then there was the bridgeman strutting around like a prized Rhyshadium with my family, seeming to fit more with them than I ever did. It was somewhat overwhelming.”

Adolin gaped at her. He had never heard Jasnah admit to anything overwhelming her. Ever. Well, except perhaps Aunt Navani. But she could overwhelm a highstorm at times, so that didn’t really count.

Jasnah was always, well, Jasnah. The model of Alethi regality and dignity. Always composed, always assured, confident, never in doubt or afraid, or any of the things he seemed to feel so often these days.

She smiled, a little sadly, and said, “I went from being one of the most knowledgeable people to having everyone know the things I had worked so hard to discover. I’d spent years struggling alone. I’d written to leaders across the world and received only scorn, and mistrust.

“Ivory and I had been alone, struggling to comprehend our powers and our bond. At first I feared that I was going mad. No one else understood. No one else could understand. And so I had to. Then suddenly Radiants were popping up everywhere like rockbuds after a storm.

“I thought that I was so prepared, and so informed, and in a moment all of that had been for nothing. Everything I had done had been wasted time. It had made no difference. Everyone knew. Everyone knew more than I did, in fact. Everyone had moved on to a world I had feared was coming for so long. And I was left feeling lost and utterly out of my depth.”

She took a sip of her wine, and her eyes grew more distant, more pained. He had never seen her like this before. As open, as vulnerable, as human as she continued, very quietly.

“Then Kholinar fell. And Elhokar died. And just like that, I became Queen of an empty, broken nation. A scattered, fragmented people. As lost and overwhelmed as I was. But they looked to me, their Queen, their most experienced Radiant, a ‘genius’ as you name me, and expected me to have answers, to be a shining light of salvation in the darkness of the thing I had dreaded for so long. They wanted me to save them, without ever realising I had already tried to do just that. And that I had failed.”

So looked up and met Adolin’s eyes, her gaze steady, in spite of what she’d just shared with him and said, with a little humourless smile on her lips, “So yes, Adolin. I think I have some idea of what you have been feeling since all of this began.”

Adolin sat, feeling somewhat stunned, as if he’d just been cracked over the head with a Shardbearer’s warhammer again.

Then he found himself leaning forwards, taking Jasnah’s hand and nodding to her, “Yeah,” he murmured, voice a little hoarse now. “Everything changed so much so fast. Everything except me.”

She squeezed his hand. Just a brief pulse of her fingers around his, but it somehow gave him courage to say things he’d never been able to properly voice aloud before.

“I was one of the most important people on Roshar. Shardbearer. Expert duelist. Heir to a princedom. In line to the throne of Alethkar itself,” he reeled off dully.

He shook his head, and downed the rest of his wine. Jasnah wordlessly refilled his cup for him, and he nodded his thanks to her before continuing.

“Then the world ended. And there were Storming Knight’s Radiant again. And my father was one. And my brother was one. And my fiancee was one. And my returned-from-the-dead-cousin was one,” he said, gesturing emphatically towards her, “And my bridgeboy was one, too, because of course he storming is.” he went on, waving his cup around so much that a little of the wine slopped over the rim. They both pretended not to notice. “And I was just...Some guy with a dead spren and no place in this new ending world.”

He met Jasnah’s eyes and gently squeezed her hands as he added, “Then Elhokar died. I failed him. And I failed Kholinar. We only got out of that mess because of my father-” he broke off, clenching his fist and turning away.

Jasnah let him sit quietly for a moment, gazing vaguely off into space, brooding. There was darkness inside him. No one ever seemed to see that. He never wanted to let it show. But it was there. And it was swirling to the surface now, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

“My father,” he said, very quietly, still not sure if he wanted to fall into this chasm, “Who killed my mother.”

His voice caught and he was forced to swallow hard to clear the sudden lump in his throat so he could speak again. And when he did he found that he couldn’t stop.

Because he met Jasnah’s eyes again and knew that she, too, had dark thoughts she never wanted the world to see. There was a strange connection being forged between them. An understanding he’d never thought to find, or even look for, with her. But he felt that she understood, and would not condemn him for the words that started pouring out of his mouth like poison.

“And he wrote a storming book about it and told the world what he’d done. How he- What he-” He broke off again, but made himself keep going, “What he did. How he visited the Nightwatcher and she took his memories of her. Or, or a god took his memories of her, because they hurt him so much after what he’d done and I-”

He balled his hands into fists and pounded them against his knees as the teras pressed behind his defiantly closed eyes.

Through clenched teeth, he forced himself to get out, “As though he was the only one suffering. As though I was fine. As though I wasn’t in agony every storming day after she died.”

Something broke in him then. Something that had been fraying for a long time. And he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“And it was his fault! He should have felt pain. He should have felt guilt. He should have felt every storming thing that was killing him after what he did because he deserved it. I didn’t. Renarin didn’t. But there was nothing there to take our pain away. We didn’t even have him. We lost both of our parents that night, and he didn’t even seem to care. Still doesn’t. He only thinks about what it cost him. What he lost. What he took away from the world. And from me.”

“I’m sorry, Adolin,” Jasnah said quietly, “I know that you still miss her.”

“Of course I still miss her!” Adolin snapped, then winced at how loudly he had said that. He sighed, clenching and unclenching his hands several times, like a heartbeat, then said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Jasnah just nodded, wordless acceptance of his apology.

He set his jaw, then took another sip of wine, finishing his second cup. But when Jasnah made to refill it again he shook his head. He kept the cup in his hands so he could fidget with it, but he didn’t want more wine. He didn’t want- He didn’t want to be the man who needed it to get through something difficult. He didn’t want to be his father. Not anymore.

“I still love him,” Adolin mumbled, “Even after what he did. He’s my father. And he- I can see that he’s trying to be a better man. She saw that in him, you know.”

He looked up and saw Jasnah frown slightly, struggling to follow his confused, meandering thoughts. He didn’t blame her.

“My mother,” he explained, wiping his nose on the back of his hand without really noticing what he was doing. “She was a good person. And she saw a good person in him, too. And she was right. She just-”

He was crying now, jaw gritted against it, unwilling, but the tears were still coming. He wasn’t sure when he’d started. He supposed that it didn’t really matter. And with that realisation came the freedom to just..Cry.

His mother would never have chided him for that, for his emotions. She would have welcomed them. Even angry, bitter, grief-drenched tears. The bad feelings couldn’t be kept inside of him, they would make him sick. And they would. They had made his father sick. So sick he’d had to beg a god to heal him.

“Why did she have to die before he listened to her?” he blurted, not expecting an answer from Jasnah. Not expecting an answer at all. Just needing to put voice to the things that had tormented him for so long. “Why did he have to storming kill her before he could become the man she always knew that he could be? Why couldn’t he have been that man for her? The man she deserved? Because she- She deserved better than the man that he was. There. I’ve said it.”

He turned away from Jasnah, rubbing at his eyes, hoping, stupidly, that she might not have seen his tears. That was pretty impossible, given that she’d been staring right at him, and she was more perceptive than a skyeel spotting rats on the crowded streets of a city sometimes.

And given that he was doing nothing short of openly weeping at this point. But Jasnah made no comment. Just silently handed him a silk handkerchief she had in a pocket.

“She was a good person, Adolin,” Jasnah agreed softly, “And you are her son. As much as you are your father’s.” She paused, then said, “More.”

Adolin cleared his throat and sniffed several times before meeting her eyes.

She nodded, answering his unspoken question, confirming for him.

Then she said, “She used to do the same thing that you do now, you know.”

He frowned slightly at that, “What?”

“She would compare herself to the other women of the court. Say how she was not as smart, nor as cunning, as they were, that she lacked their skill in politics, and Alethi scheming.”

“She was a better woman than all of them,” Adolin whispered, wiping his eyes again, “She had a good heart. She was gentle, and kind, and loving. She saw the best in everyone, and everything, even when they’d shown her nothing but the worst parts of them. She always believed things could be better, that we could be better. That’s what she taught me, and Renarin. And she was right. She-”

He broke off, meeting Jasnah’s eyes again, and found that glimmer in them. She nodded slowly to him, and he swallowed, but nodded back to her, understanding passing between them.

“You are more like her than you allow yourself to be, Adolin,” Jasnah observed quietly. “You have her heart. But you hide it behind your own perception of all the things you’re doing wrong. All the things you aren’t good at. You ignore your greatest strengths to dwell upon your flaws. Until that becomes a flaw itself. It’s holding you back from the man that you could be. The man you should become.”

“When I was younger, I wanted so badly to be like my father,” Adolin said quietly. “I wanted to be the Blackthorn. I wanted to fight alongside him on the Plains. I wanted to see the greatness that everyone spoke about when they talked about him. The unstoppable Shardbearer. The undefeated warlord. I thought he was the best a man could be, the best thing I could ever aspire to be.”

“And now?” Jasnah prompted gently.

Adolin clenched his fist in his lap and stared into the candle flame flickering on the table between them, “Now that’s the monster who killed my mother,” he whispered, with a naked condemnation he hadn’t dared approach before. Not even in his own thoughts. “And thousands of other innocent people. And the less like him I am the better I’ll be. The better Alethkar will be, too.”

He paused, then looked up at Jasnah, realisation sparking in him.

“That’s what’s wrong, isn’t it?” he said quietly, “What we are, what we do? We- We focus on the wrong things. On how good we are at killing and conquering. Or how accomplished our women are at scheming, and manipulating people.” He met Jasnah’s eyes and said, “That’s what you’re trying to change, isn’t it?”

“No, cousin,” she said, actually reaching out and taking his hands, “That is what we are going to change,” she said, firmly.

Adolin squeezed her hands and nodded, “We will,” he agreed.

Jasnah smiled at that, not her usual, small, guarded little smirk, a full smile, her eyes dancing, her intent clear. And Adolin found himself smiling with her.

As one, they stood, and embraced. Without any reluctance or ginger back patting on Jasnah’s part this time.

As they drew away, Adolin eyed her. “I think Wit has been rubbing off on you,” he observed, giving her a wry smile.

Jasnah pulled back, frowning at that, “What do you mean?”

“This feels like the kind of thing he’d do,” Adolin said, shrugging, “From what Shallan and Kal have said to me about the times he’s popped up to give them cryptic advice when they’ve needed to talk about stuff.”

Jasnah sniffed, “I don’t think anything about that conversation was ‘cryptic’, Adolin. Nor was it intended to be.”

“That’s true,” Adolin said, nodding, “If it had been Wit he’d have told me a three hour story about how chulls shouldn’t judge themselves on how good they are at flying by comparing themselves to skyeels or. Something.”

Jasnah smiled at that, and her expression softened in a way Adolin had never seen from her before.

He paused, wondering if he dared ask her if the rumours surrounding her and Wit were true.

Then the softened expression dropped from her face as she turned back towards him looking decidedly more business-like, and he decided that he didn’t dare.

She might be his cousin, and they might have just bonded over things he’d never dreamed she of all people could have the experience to understand. But no.

Adolin Kholin might not be able to name all seventeen varieties of fingermoss, or have any idea how fabrials worked, but he was not stupid.

***

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bartramcat · 3 years

Text

CSI/GSR: Long vs. Short Term Arcs

Okay, this is very off the cuff and inspired to some degree by @addictedtostorytelling and the discussion of Morgan and Greg and Hodges. Some stray things:

We know that the only thing decided about Sara Sidle pre-show was that she was meant to be Grissom's love interest.

At some point, before CSI continued to be a ratings juggernaut that Zuiker figured Grissom would go deaf, and that would be how the show would end.

When Grissom turned Sara down in Play With Fire, TPTB had decided that was going to be the end of that.

Things no one could have predicted:

The overwhelming worldwide success of the show, necessitating a workable resolution to Grissom's deaf storyline.

That no matter what, whenever Grissom and Sara are onscreen together, there is "something" there.

Billy and Jorja both were invested in GSR.

It seems to me the combination of the above is what gave us Season 4. In terms of GSR, a case could be made that they were starting all over again in a serialized novel sort of way.

Now I confess to knowing absolutely nothing about the Harry Potter novels, but, in my youth, thanks to Masterpiece Theatre, I did read all of The Forsyte Saga and Trollope's Palliser novels. What serialized novels have in common is that, for the most part, each novel stands on its own, but the author feels the need to continue to explore aspects of his characters beyond the original scope of the original novel.

In that regard, I suppose we could see 1-3 as a kind of GSR entity on its own. Grissom gets promoted and brings the girl he loves to Vegas, only to discover he can't have both the job and the girl. Beginning in 2, Grissom has two simultaneous arcs: the fear of going deaf and his unresolved feelings for Sara, with the first further compounding the complications associated with the second. What he doesn't discover until season 3 is that his "push me/pull me" relationship with Sara drives her to another man, a fact which utterly devastates him to an extent he could never have imagined.

Still, it is the deaf arc that is of more overriding concern: if he can't hear, he not only loses his job but also his entire sense of self at that point in time. Resolving his feelings for Sara will have to be backburnered, so he decides not to punish her for getting a life, as, at that point, he has no life to offer her, since he's not even sure what his life will be.

Meanwhile, back in Saraland, she discovers Hank is a dog and ends the relationship. If GSR were bad soap opera, the fact that Sara was seeing Hank would have been seen as a primary impediment. The thing is it never was. To me it's just one more nail in the Sara low self-esteem coffin. Also, if it were soap, the lab explosion and Grissom's unconscious revelation of his feelings for her would have led to some kind of positive resolution. The problem is that Grissom's deaf arc is still in play, not to mention all of his other relationship with Sara fears.

Sara misreads the situation; she thinks, finally, he might be ready to take the plunge, but she's completely wrong. By bringing their relationship to an either/or position, she basically pushes him into outright rejecting her, thus ending this phase of their arc. Ironically, Grissom's deaf arc gets resolved in the very next episode, but, by then, he really thinks it is "too late."

The thing about 4, besides it being incredibly hard to watch Sara descend into the abyss, is that, for the first time, the show makes it unequivocally clear that Grissom is both sexually attracted to Sara and in love with her. (The first doesn't always imply the second, although we learn later, for Grissom, it does.)

While Homebodies explores Grissom's fears that he won't ever be able to keep his loved one (Sara) safe--perhaps foreshadowing--Invisible Evidence certainly spells it out that his attraction to her is as physical as it is intellectual and emotional. I doubt anyone could watch those "pin me down" seconds out of context and not think that was a man who was about to fuck the shit out of her. (Of course in context it can't happen, but the desire is certainly there.)

Overall, however, outside of that, Grissom goes out of his way to distance himself from Sara: that "too late" thing again. Then the show throws Butterflied at us (and him), wherein it is made abundantly clear he is in love with her and regrets turning her down. What he doesn't know is that she hears everything he says, which twists the knife. She wasn't wrong: he does have feelings for her, only those feelings aren't strong enough for him to risk it, to take a chance on love.

So what we have for the rest of 4 is Grissom continuing to distance himself from Sara under the misguided belief that he has killed any feelings she had for him, while she continues to sink into depression and alcohol dependence. Given his distancing, he seems unaware that something isn't right with her until late in the season, and then it hits him between the eyes and in the gut in Bloodlines.

In a weird way, 4-6 is the inverse of 1-3. If Season 1 begins with a lot of light-hearted flirtation (and off the charts sexual chemistry) and ends with a seemingly insurmountable rift between them, 4-6 begins with the rift and works its way to their becoming an actual committed couple in a seemingly stable relationship. Of course the frustrating part is that the show neglected to tell us when, where, and how, although it's pretty evident that, for Grissom, Bloodlines is the catalyst for him to try to rebuild their relationship. I do not think he did so thinking the end result would be a "beautiful life" with Sara. More than likely, the best he hoped for was for them to be friends again.

As an aside, in the middle of 1-3, we have Cassie James, Grissom's personal Cassandra, telling him "You don't know what you need until you find it." While Grissom's "need" for Sara is couched purely in work terms throughout 3, season 4 into 5 shows a man who has seemingly come to terms with the fact that he both loves and needs her. The first half of 5 shows him far more in tune with her, and they begin to be comfortable together again. While I think he is perhaps at a place where he might occasionally daydream about the possibility that someday they might be together, I also suspect he thinks that ship has sailed.

And that is why he is completely floored in Snakes. Seemingly out of nowhere, she more or less tells him she's still in love with him, although, unlike in Play With Fire, she has no expectations that he can ever reciprocate her feelings. She, too, thinks that ship has sailed, but, now, she is reconciled to that fact.

I suppose the question for me has always been whether or not he goes to her in Nesting Dolls and tells her that it matters to him, not as her boss but as a man, why she's so angry, if Snakes doesn't happen. A large part of a believable narrative is that one thing must naturally lead to another. As a narrative arc, from 4 to mid-5, we get the following:

Invisible Evidence makes it clear that these two people are still sexually attracted to one another, even though neither one would consider acting on it at this point.

Butterflied confirms Grissom is in love with Sara and regrets turning her down.

Early Rollout tells us Sara may have a serious drinking problem.

Bloodlines is Sara at her lowest point, having been pulled over for a DUI, which signals to Grissom just how miserable she is.

In early 5, they begin to rebuild their camaraderie, with Grissom occasionally kind of sort of flirting with her, in his fashion.

Snakes confirms that, despite everything, she's still in love with him.

After her meltdown in Nesting Dolls, Grissom goes to her and coaxes her to tell him her deepest secrets, after which he comforts her, although what transpires between them after he takes her hand, like so many things GSR, is left vague.

It's always been curious to me that after their conversation in Unbearable that the curtain is drawn on exactly what the nature of their relationship is. I have always read, from Big Middle on, that they act like a couple, albeit a couple in the workplace. We get very little entree into their private interactions, so when and how they became lovers is open to individual interpretation. It isn't until the final scene of 6 that the show bothers to tell us they are lovers, and, judging by their interactions in Way to Go, have been a couple for some time.

I don't know about anyone else, but I think they seem married in that scene: completely comfortable with each other in a way that more or less screams that scenes like the one we are finally privy to have been occurring for a while.

In any event, 4-6 is a pretty remarkable journey in GSR land, as the two characters move from barely being able to speak to one another into a full-fledged love affair.

The amazing thing to me is that both the 1-3 and the 4-6 segments follow a logical progression, with each small insight or revelation explaining both choice and behavior--and leading into the next arc in their relationship.

It really is good stuff.

#csi #csi: las vegas #gsr #gil grissom #sara sidle #grissom x sara #mytext

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knchins · 4 years

Text

Seijoh + First Dates

Pairing: Oikawa x GN!Reader, Mattsun x GN!Reader, Makki x GN!Reader, Iwa x GN!Reader, Kindaichi x GN!Reader, Kunimi x GN!Reader, Kyoutani x GN!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 2k

HQWK Prompt: Favorite Team

Warnings: Individual warnings are placed under each name header

Notes: Day three of HQ Week! Here’s so cute little headcanons for you <3 As usual feel free to check out @haikyuuweek2020 for more special content!

Warnings: Brief kissing

Tooru takes you to a professional volleyball game and you can’t say you’re surprised

Despite the obvious reason for him being there is to study future opponents and maybe pick up a few new techniques or strategies, you do genuinely enjoy the fact that he’s there with you and no one else.

He has a one track mind, but honestly you’re so enamored with him that it’s okay.

He treated you to snacks and a drink, your favorites, and even any souvenirs that you want.

You don’t ask for the stuffed mascot for the team he’s rooting for, but you accept it happily nonetheless.

He keeps his arm around you or hand on you at all times. Just so people know that you’re his. He’s very proud to finally have you to show off to the world.

While it wasn’t what you would have picked for a first date, you actually get quite swept up in the game, cheering on his favored team in the stands with him.

Oikawa is captivated by the way you look when you shout encouragement for them, and he secretly hopes you’ll do that for him during his next match.

Really, he had plenty of cheerleaders. People that wanted him to notice them and perhaps ask them out. But none of them compared to you.

No, you were the only voice in the crowd that had ever mattered. And he was sure to memorize it and next time, he’d make sure to make you proud.

After the game, he takes you home and he’s a complete gentleman while doing so.

In truth he’s a bit nervous to make any sort of move on you, not wanting to seem too eager or pushy.

He settles for a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and a dazzling smile before bidding you goodnight.

Warnings: Cuddling?

When Mattsun first asked you out on a date, you thought he was playing some cruel joke on you.

He always seemed so intimidating on the court.

But after you dared to say yes, he showed you a whole new side to him.

He took you out for dinner and the two of you shared stories over a nice meal.

He complimented your outfit and said you looked amazing.

Honestly he was the most easy going guy you had ever met.

You felt bad for judging him so quickly.

After dinner he took you to see a movie you’d been dying to see.

He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him.

The theater was freezing so you were grateful for his warmth

Unfortunately you were so comfortable nuzzled into his side that you fell asleep before the climax of the movie.

Matsukawa didn’t mind, he simply chuckled and held you close, thinking you looked like the most adorable person on the planet.

Once the movie was over he gently woke you and you were totally embarrassed.

He assured you that it was okay and that you’d just have to make it up to him with another date.

And of course you happily accepted…but said perhaps next time they did something different to avoid you falling asleep on him again.

Warnings: None

Makki only asked you out because Iwaizumi beat him in an arm wrestling match. The bet was that whoever lost had to ask out their high school crush.

Even though he wasn’t totally confident in winning, he did believe that he had more of a chance than he actually did.

But a bet is a bet, so he worked up the courage (with Mattsun’s help, of course) and asked you if you wanted to go get some ice cream after school one day with him.

You said yes, excited that he finally worked up the nerve to ask you.

Despite how perceptive Makki is, he totally did not think you would say yes. He seemed to be totally oblivious of just how often you flirted with him in class.

When the day comes you change out of your uniform into the cutest outfit you had, something that you knew he’d love.

And you were right! Makki was incredibly excited to see you, his face red as he hadn’t thought to bring a spare change of clothes. You didn’t mind though.

He took you to a local ice cream parlor where you both got taiyaki filled with your favorite ice cream flavor and sat down outside to enjoy the sweet treat together.

It was awkward at first, Hanamaki wasn’t entirely sure what to talk about or how to make small talk with you. But eventually the two of you started talking about volleyball and he instantly became comfortable.

He asked if you came to the games, and you admitted to him that you came to every one just to watch him play.

Again he was blushing like mad, but also grinning like a lovesick idiot at the same time.

All in all it was a very fun date and it led to many, many others.

Warnings: Kissing

You and Iwa met at the gym so when he asked you to go jogging with him sometime, you didn’t think it was a date.

Though you had a suspicion that it was a little more than just work out buddies blowing off steam.

The two of you stretched in a nearby park that was his favorite place to run. It was beautiful and he thought that you might enjoy a change of scenery since he typically saw you running on a treadmill at the gym he frequently visited.

It was actually very beautiful and while you both started jogging towards a predetermined finished line, it was nice to get out in the fresh air instead of the stifling atmosphere of the gym.

Iwa suddenly bet you to a race. Whoever won had to do the other a favor of their choosing.

Of course you said yes.

You both began to sprint, though it was clear that Iwa was faster than you were by a long shot.

Still he seemed to hold back, pretending to be running neck in neck with you. A few times he obviously slowed his gait to keep from pulling ahead.

It was actually really cute that he was letting you win, though you wished you had been able to beat him.

It was at that point that you were pretty certain that this was, indeed, a date.

The thought had your heart fluttering happily as you made it to the end, beating him by just a few seconds.

Iwa pretended to be out of breath, acting as if that had took more out of him than it really did. The display of humble defeat was quite endearing.

“What do you want?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“A kiss.” You reply coyly and he gives you a surprised look. He was expecting you to ask him to pay for your dinner or something, not a kiss.

But then he shrugs, pretending like kissing you was no big deal (actually it was a huge deal but if he thought about it too much he’d screw it up).

He leans into you and the two of you share a brief, light kiss.

Your heart blooms with affection as you look into his eyes. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

Warnings: None

Kindaichi was a simple highschool boy that loved the arcade.

In fact, that was how you met.

You didn’t go to Aoba Johsai, but you did frequent the arcade that was just down the street from Seijoh to relieve stress and blow off some steam.

Kindaichi was pretty smitten at first site due to just how good you were.

He himself had great hand-eye coordination thanks to volleyball so he wasn’t too shabby either.

So, one day when he noticed you looked a little down he asked if you wanted to maybe play a racing game with him. He had seen you play it often and usually you got pretty into it, always leaving with a smile.

You didn’t really think of it as a date until later on when he referred to it as “our first date”.

Anyway, he challenged you to a race and of course you agreed.

You had interacted with Kindaichi multiple times, but it was never very in depth. He seemed pretty good at gaming and was a good competitor.

He put in tokens on the game and both of you sat down in the racing chairs.

As the game began, it was clear that Kindaichi wasn’t going to go easy on you.

The race was neck and neck most of the way, both of you playing expertly.

However, in the end you won!

Kindaichi was a little disappointed that he lost, however he congratulated you and asked if you wanted to go with him to get something to eat.

Feeling better now than you did before because of your win, you nodded your head with a smile and joined him.

There were fireworks from then onward!

Warnings: None

You never could read what Kunimi was thinking. He always seemed so blaze.

So when he asked you out, you were pretty surprised. He had never seemed to be interested in you before.

Even when you said yes, his expression didn’t change. He still looked almost...bored?

But really that was just him, he wasn’t known to be very expressive.

He took you to a local cafe that had the most delicious sweets you had ever had.

He got some salted caramel treats while you got your own favorite dessert to try.

It was nice just to sit and chat with him. You always found him to be quite interesting.

He was quiet, which you didn’t mind. You carried most of the conversation but Kunimi’s words were always sincere and genuine.

Eventually you got him to confess that he was actually interested in you and that this wasn’t out of the blue. Though clearly the confession made him feel very embarrassed.

You told him that you always look forward to watching him play in a volleyball match, since he always seemed to be so strategic when it was high stakes.

Though you lamented that he could put in a little more effort which he scoffed at.

By the end of the night, he was looking rather pleased instead of indifferent and really you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

Warnings: None? Kyoutani bullies you into dating him lol

Kentarou didn’t really ask you out, he sort of demanded that you go with him to the local carnival.

Honestly you were too scared to tell him no, so you figured what was the worst that could happen? Certainly he wasn’t all bad.

Looking back now, you were so thankful that you did.

Kentarou was rough around the edges, but it was clear that he was just as nervous about this date as you were. It was very cute to see him so worked up about possibly ruining it.

He bought you some of your favorite carnival food and you surprised him by sharing it with him. You saw a ghost of a smile as he happily took a couple bites.

As you both walked around, he noticed you eyeing some of the plush toys that were prizes in some of the games.

Unfortunately you had never been good at ring tosses, or knocking bottles down with a ball so you stayed quiet, not wanting to even try.

Kentarou however picked up on this and made you go to the stall and tell him which prize you wanted.

After bashfully pointing out a plus stuffed animal that was your favorite, he asked the person running the game what it took to win it.

And then, as if it were nothing, he won it for you.

And this happened again and again, until neither of you could carry any more plushes.

The huge smile on your face was totally worth it, and by the end Kentarou had a small smile on his face as well.

His features were a little less hard, and every time you laughed and applauded him, he loosened up just a tiny bit.

By the end of the night he seemed like a totally different person.

Sure he was still gruff and tough and rowdy, but he was also soft and caring.

And that was the start of a beautiful relationship.

General Masterlist || HQ Week Masterlist

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wheredemdokis · 3 years

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[tastebreaker review] Law School (no spoilers)

Sometimes, I wish I could have a shrine for all the cerebral media that I consumed, because it definitely is my favourite archetype. Death Note was a masterpiece that I hungrily binged in one day - similarly with Psycho Pass (though I haven't watched the second season due to most of the reviews I have read). This extend well into non-anime media for me - State of Play (with Russell Crowe, Ben Affleck and Rachel McAdams) remains one of my favourite movies, Inception and, well, honestly anything by Christopher Nolan, and I have recently began watching The Matrix as well.

And so, the thirst for real mystery and brain games was quenched when I started watching Law School, with Kim Myung-min, Kim Beom and Ryu Hye-young, directed by Kim Suk-yoon. Needless to say, throughout the whole trip, I was hooked, counting down days until the next episode came... but towards the end - an unpopular opinion - I was actually quite disappointed.

And so, before you start your cross-examination, allow me to present my findings first.

- How did I start watching this?

My friend and I were looking around for something to binge on Netflix and forget about COVID-19. This series popped up, and the moment I read the title, my sapiosexual senses were tingled.

- And how was it?

Very good!... until the ending came. ;w;

- Genres & overarching themes?

Genres: Mystery, Thriller, Psychological

Overarching themes: murder mystery, law vs justice, intelligence (as in, the characters are all really smart hahah)

- Plot: 4/5

It could have been a high four, near five if it wasn't for the ending, frankly. The first episode started out with Professor Seo Byung-ju of Hankuk Law School dead, and the spotlight shines on Professor Yang Jong-hoon (the man in the poster above), the first suspect. But was it really him? From then, the mystery unfolds as our favourite study group (who shall be very well elaborated on later in this review) launches itself into investigation for true justice.

The series started out extremely strong in my opinion, with its first few episodes filled with twists and sub-plots that were waiting to get wrapped up. Every episode just leaves you gripping on the sides of your seat in suspense. It really makes you doubt every single person that appeared on-screen and watch out for anything that happens - the show uses the Chekhov's Gun trope really well. As the knots become unravelled, we gain more depth into the characters. However, as we near the end - about two-three episodes for me - the show started to lose its thrust, falling into a comfortable stereotype that made things rather frustrating.

One of the major advantages of Law School, in my opinion, is its ability to twist and turn everything. It prompts the viewers to realize that when the case is really examined in a whole different angle, with more and more evidence coming to light, everything changes. The use of different suspects' stories being told in each episode is a pleasure to watch - the viewers feel like an omniscient judge, overseeing the motives and evidence to draw out a conclusion for themselves on who might be the murderer. The series prompts the viewers to think, which is a trend I really like. It's also interesting to question why characters do certain things they do. Professor Yang Jong-hoon (my favourite character!), for example, is a very... chaotic (haha) character, who keeps on surprising people with his actions - yet, his actions are all elaborate executions of his strategy, a whole plan that he has concocted which accounted for multiple steps ahead, thanks to his extremely sharp vision of what could happen. Thus, it is extremely satisfying when everything falls into place as Yangcrates (a nickname he earned due to his Socratic teaching) explains everything that led up to a particular tense moment where the truth was unveiled.

Yet... this very trope had its downfall near the end. The murderer was so heavily shadowed on in the beginning that the viewers would have expected the murderer to be someone else completely unexpected, a mastermind that pulled the strings behind all the proceedings. Yet, the murderer and the mastermind behind the murder were someone so... I dare say, unimpressive. I mean, this particular 'mastermind' behind the murder fell into so many traps! The murderer was definitely my major disappointment - the villain was a weak character, an unsatisfying antagonist that the intelligent heroes, once having figured who he/she is, didn't even break a sweat to bring to light. The last, final twist that was supposed to be the most glamorous of them all, completely knocking the viewers off their feet, fell completely flat.

Secondly, whilst having a lot of sub-plots still remains a favourite trope of mine as I'd expect everything to wrap up nicely near the end... well, it didn't. Whilst most sub-plots were hastily answered, there was one particular sub-plot which was just left completely unaddressed (for those who have watched it, it's about J****s), and unless they're hinting at a second season where this would be further elaborated on, this was a dead-end sub-plot, a plot with no elaboration or continuation whatsoever.

Overall, the plot was breathtaking in the beginning. It lost momentum very near the end, and wrapped everything up with an anticlimactic last episode.

- Characters: 4.7/5

Definitely the strongest set of characters I've seen in a Korean drama, frankly. All characters were so well utilised, each having their own quirks and flaws which were delightful to watch. Everyone was so, so intelligent, that they honestly were the main fuel to the series, our main stars.

Allow me to first start off with my favourite character, Professor Yang Jong-hoon. Stoic, yet with an extremely savage side that he does not hesitate to show to anyone of any ranks or social standings, Yangcrates carefully plots everything, always thinks, questions, and then thinks even more. Intelligence-wise, this man is most definitely the smartest on-screen persona I've seen in the Korean drama franchise - able to see miles ahead and figure out all the answers down to their root, he is someone that definitely earns all the respect he has, from both his students and viewers alike. Personality-wise, this man is equally interesting as he is smart. With a cold exterior, Yangcrates does not take any bullshit (cue a particularly funny water spitting scene), and does not hold back harsh words to point it out. Yet, underneath this cold exterior is a burning desire to find the absolute truth, which would in turn bring justice to ones who have been wronged (refer to a particular lecture-like speech he made in episode 10), and a passion for teaching his students. He secretly cares for his students a lot, and expresses it in his own way.

Next, our favourite study group - a group of capable, enticing individuals. Firstly, we have Han Joon-hwi, a complex character that always pursues justice and fairness. His intelligence shines through with the way he, firstly, is able to take advantage of his sharp understanding of law into the case, and his careful processing of the evidence he gathers during investigation. Whilst he always keeps a cold head when needed, he has an equally warm heart, genuinely caring for wronged and innocent people. His expressions were all extremely raw and did not feel fake at all - really, props to his actor. More on this later.

Then, we have the two girls - Kang Sol A and Kang Sol B. Don't be fooled by their names - they are very much polar opposites. Whilst Kang Sol A is excitable and wears her heart on her sleeve (sometimes a bit too much), Kang Sol B always keeps a cool head, sometimes taking it to the extreme. I do admit that if I had to pick out of the two, though I love both of them very, very much, I'd probably lean a bit more towards Kang Sol A - even though she definitely gets on my nerves sometimes because of her overload of emotions that could be disruptive, she has her frequent bouts of creativity and "a-ha!" moments that display her underrated intelligence (I'm always soft for underdogs that are underestimated by everyone, only to turn the table on them later). She is also an extremely loyal friend and a very generous individual that isn't afraid to place herself in danger just to help others - overall, a very warm person. Kang Sol B, on the other hand - perhaps due to her family environment - does not really taking other people's emotions into consideration, though I really, really admire her for her intelligence, her ability to always keep a calm head (making her the blue counterpart to Kang Sol A's red), as well as her straightforwardness which has proven many times to be necessary to push the case forward. She does have a soft spot, though - a very adorable one at that. These two make an extremely adorable pair of friends.

My favourite student of the study group must be Seo Ji-ho. I'd say he's a less intimidating version of Kang Sol B hahah - cool and composed, Ji-ho is a reliable member who always pursues logic and reason first. He is also driven to achieve his goal and, like Joon-hwi, utilizes his deep understanding about law very well to solve his own case, his sub-plot. Though his sub-plot eventually was wrapped up as an open ending, it was a nice sub-plot to watch. Not to mention his dynamic with Joon-hwi is very adorable as well - the two really balance each other out.

Other students also have their own quirks and flaws, but for the sake of this review's length, I won't elaborate them as much - but I will say they are all a delight to watch, adding their own personal elements to the overall study group. I will definitely miss this set of characters so, so much. ;-;

- Acting: 4.4/5

Frankly, perhaps because of some K-drama series I have watched, I had a problem with acting in some K-drama series - the actors and actresses did not feel genuine, and they either overacted, pushing their expressions to the extreme, or underacted, simply being way too... stiff (some of my personal favourite actors and actresses so far are Kim Seon-ho, whose theatrical experiences probably really helped with his very natural acting, Jo Jung-seok, and Kim Hye-yoon, an actress who impressed me with both of her most popular series - hope to see her versatility shine through with more diverse roles though). This series, however, is a definite favourite of mine in terms of acting. Firstly, Kim Myung-min is a veteran actor that deserves so much respect - he basically morphed into Yangcrates. I absolutely loved the way he delivered his dialogues - very long ones! - without even so much as taking a breath in between - it was smooth and the flow was excellent.

Kim Beom also became one of my favourite actors after this series - the way he handled his role was so good, his expressions, actions, everything. I noticed that he's very good with his eyes, if that's the right way to put it - he is very good at displaying emotions with them, all emotions ranging from sadness to adoration (towards a particular someone *wink*). It's a top-notch skill, really, and I'm glad to have seen him on-screen. Similarly, Ryu Hye-young impressed me so, so much that I shall add her to my list of favourite actresses as well - I can't spoil, but she is really able at... altering her vibes, yes. She seems to have studied her character really carefully too, being able to bring all Sol A's quirks to real life. Other actors and actresses were amazing, but for me, these three definitely shone.

- Doki moments?

Ah. Definitely some between Sol A and Joon-hwi, as a lot of other people have commented. From the way they tease each other to the way he cares about her every little thing, the way he stares at her, the way his whole demeanor just changes around her and the way she unknowingly influences him so much - they do balance each other out really well, Joonhwi being the cool to Sol A's warm. I do find myself thinking Sol B and Ji-ho would be rather compatible as well (also, them being study rivals in high school? My rivals-to-lovers side is ready).

- Enjoyment: 4/5

Again, could have been higher if it wasn't for the ending! But yes, overall, a whole trip worth embarking on.

- Overall: 4.2/5

Really, could have been higher... but yes, still an excellent show. I just hope they could have had more episodes to really wrap everything up nicely and maybe throw us one final, absolutely ground-breaking twist.

- Watch it or neh?

Yes, please do watch it! And let me know how it goes, too. ;3

#jtbc law school #law school kdrama #kdrama review #kdrama recommendations #kang sol a #han joon hwi #solhwi #kim beom #ryu hye young #yangcrates #kim myung min #kdrama #kdramanetwork #mystery thriller #crime thriller #psychological #mystery series #school life

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zodiactalks · 3 years

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Zodiac Signs Ranked from NICEST to MEANEST

Although compatibility with other people is rather subjective, we can't deny that some folks are far kinder than others.

Some will offer to give you a hand if they see you struggling and others will just make an unpleasant remark to get you back on your feet, that's just the way it is!

Would you like to know which Zodiac Signs are the most caring and which are the most unfriendly? Let's find out!

#1. Pisces

Pisces is kindness incarnate! These signs are extremely thoughtful and empathetic, not only with their friends and family but also with complete strangers.

They offer their help to anyone in need and go out of their way to ensure people feel better after spending time in their company. They can't help it! They are the nicest of all the Zodiac.

#2. Cancer

Cancer is also very kind, loyal, and attentive. Their nurturing and protective energy makes them naturally thoughtful and they always seek to care for anyone in need of comfort. They are very kind to their friends and peers and avoid confrontation at all costs. There is no one like Cancer to make you feel better on a rainy day.

#3. Libra

Libras are so gentle that sometimes it ends up working against them. They don't usually fight for their rights or defend their territory for fear of others getting upset with them. They are very diplomatic, kind, and considerate at all times. That's why they have many good friends and are excellent hosts for social and cultural events!

#4. Leo

Leo people pay attention to their heart more than they do to their reason! They are honest and warm-hearted, to the point of lifting anyone's spirits with their positive energy. They always encourage their friends to follow their passion and to do what they love, which is why they are considered to be one of the kindest signs!

#5. Sagittarius

Sagittarius also blindly follows their intuition and always expects the best from their circumstances! They are very idealistic and strive to make this world a better place. For this reason, they are often seen offering their help in different NGOs to contribute their bit to humanity.

#6. Aquarius

Aquarius thrives on rebelling against oppression and helping their community to be better off. They have a huge, warrior heart, and are not afraid to stand up to the authorities and abolish social inequalities. They don't always get the results they expect, but this doesn't dampen their spirits. They do not judge others by their appearances and are always inclusive, which makes them one of the noblest signs of the zodiac.

#7. Taurus

Taurus has a pleasant and calm character. Perhaps they are a little old-fashioned in their way of thinking and sometimes can be materialistic. But beyond that, they are nice and do not look for problems.

They may not be very concerned about the comfort of all the people around them, but they always take care of their loved ones.

#8. Gemini

Geminis are not ill-intentioned, but sometimes they can be two-faced. They might be kind and sympathetic to you, but then badmouth you as soon as you leave! This earns them a bad reputation for being gossipy and inconsiderate, placing them in a much lower position in terms of friendliness.

#9. Capricorn

Capricorn is realistic and won't hesitate to point out your mistakes to your face, regardless of whether it makes you feel bad. They don't see the point in hiding the truth. Why not be honest with each other so we can all improve as individuals? Well, they are not very empathetic or sensitive, which makes them come across as rude most of the time.

#10. Aries

Aries gets very nasty when someone picks on them. They fight back wildly in arguments or confrontations, and are so pushy they end up being hurtful in their remarks. Their friends try not to offend them to the point of brushing off some comments. This aggressiveness makes them one of the meanest signs of all the zodiac.

#11. Virgo

Virgos are very demanding, judgmental, and harsh in their statements. What's worse is that they don't refrain from not being so! They don't mince words when it comes to mocking their partners' mistakes and pointing out just how poorly they are performing. Being such perfectionists, they can't seem to resist exposing every little annoyance. Their friends love them but often don't have enough patience to deal with them!

#12. Scorpio

Scorpios are not usually hot-headed or reactive, but be very careful not to hurt them. Like the sting of scorpions, they carry venom hidden in their tongue and will not shy away from using it on their foes. They know exactly what to say to knock others down, scarring them for life. So, watch out for disturbing these explosive signs!

#Aquarius #Aries #Cancer #Capricorn #leo #libra #Gemini #virgo #scorpio #taurus #Pisces #Sagittarius #Zodiac Talks #Zodiac #Zodiac Signs

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saintqueer · 3 years

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Hi, saw that you are in therapy. How do you approach the subject of 1D in therapy? I'm embarrassed to bring up how much I'm invested in them to my therapist tbh and also worried she's gonna a tell me to drop them cause it's not healthy.

Hey friend! I honestly was pumped when I woke up to this ask yesterday because it’s a really good question. One that I think a lot of people worry about. And is probably pretty prevalent for a lot of us in fandom spaces as a lot of us are mentally ill and/or neurodivergent (and yeah I don’t think that’s a coincidence). I just recently got back into therapy after a few years away. I went consistently from when I was 18 to 24. And I just got back in at 27 because, surprise, life is still hard. But I can tell you that I was not expecting to be going back into therapy with a full-blown 1D hyper-fixation. Yet here I am!

I’ve always been very susceptible to fandom and, what I like to call, the art of obsessing over things. And I’ve mostly felt comfortable talking freely about those things with friends/family and therapists. But it has become more difficult as the outstanding circumstances of being unemployed, in a pandemic, being unable to get my ADHD meds, and being severely depressed have caused my ‘obsessive tendencies’ to become a lot more intense, focused, sensitive, and longer-lasting which is why I’m using the term hyper-fixation currently to separate it from the general fandom experience.

It’s come to feel a lot less like a fun extracurricular and more like a coping mechanism that I can’t picture functioning without. Maybe this is similar for you, anon, as you label your investment as “unhealthy.” But I hope you can step back from judging yourself for a moment and acknowledge that this might be a coping mechanism for you. We can sometimes be all too quick to judge coping strategies as healthy or unhealthy when we are simply just trying to do what we can to get by. I am aware that my current hyper-fixation might not be the quickest or most obvious way of healing myself. However, I know that I am indirectly processing my trauma through it which is, for right now, far easier for me than confronting it directly.

So, yes, in therapy I’ve brought up my 1D obsession, touched briefly on Larry, and spoken at length about how much fan fiction I’ve been reading. My therapist hasn’t really dug further and we just end up moving on to the next thing. He always ends up being more curious as to what’s underneath it and far less concerned about me “being too invested” in something. Any therapist worth their salt would NEVER in a million years tell you to drop something you are passionate about. You are allowed to love things, you are allowed to be a fan, you are allowed to be crazy-obsessed. I highly doubt that she will tell you any differently but if she does, perhaps try finding someone new. Both of my parents are psychologists as well (fuck my life) so I am well-versed in the theory behind psychotherapy and it would never be advisable to tell a client to drop something that brought their life joy even if there were unhealthy aspects to it. You aren’t doing heroine, ya know?

Anyways, if you’d like to then tell your therapist about 1D! What you love about them, how they make you feel, why you feel so invested in them and their music and their story. Explain what resonates or upsets you. That will likely reveal a lot of things about you that might enable her to help you further. For me, the goal of better understanding my hyper-fixation is not to love the thing less by any means. But to make your individual happiness less dependent on said thing. Right now I’m so sad all the time that simply a singular tweet from Louis can give me a huge boost of happiness I would not have had otherwise. My goal is not to rid myself of my hyper-fixation but rather change the nature of it so that I am happy more often even on days when nothing exciting happens in the fandom. A tweet from Louis will still bring me joy but I’d prefer it not to be a glass of water in the middle of a fucking desert.

So, anon, I hope that helps in some way! Feel free to come back anytime. Also, big props on being in therapy! It’s truly one of the best moves you can ever make.

#anon #therapy #fandom experience #neurodivergency

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mintyfrosty · 3 years

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Simple Melodies (A Medieval AU Fanfic)

Melody echoed through the abandoned avenues of the garden pathways, a small, deep humming following along and hypnotising whoever heard it with its minor notes. It wasn't often that particular individual placed his lute. But there was always a time for anything, and tonight was one of those times. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. Well, other than lie his bed thinking about the same thing over and over and over again.

"Thank you, Right--!"

The sensation was still on his hand from the prince placing a small kiss there, even if it had been a couple of hours ago now.

It wasn't as if it a bad thing. At least, the peasant didn't seem to think so. It was a comforting sort of feeling. The prince was one of the big things in the castle that kept Right from losing his mind. Heh, sometimes the royal brought a fuzzy feeling in Right's stomach. Reginald always tried to make time for him; powered through his work to talk to him. It, well, made him feel valued. Special, perhaps. People didn't give a damn about him, generally - unless you wronged him and had a cold plate of revenge on the way. However, for some reason, those small moments with the prince touched him. And after today's events? Heh-- oh man. A blush blotched over his face, fingers drifting over the instrument.

But... sigh

There were so many factors at play. Reginald was a prince, a prince, for God-sakes. A prince who happen to talk to him and ask about his day and...

...

It was probably for the best that he came out to the garden to play his lute. More for his sake to get his mind off of the prince. Right was a commoner; he had to remember that.

Stupid royal code.

Granted, it had only been able four or five days since he got 'assigned' this job. Yet he already found himself growing close with the brunette, even when he shouldn't. Well, 'close' was a stretch. It was more so comfortable acquaintances. The prince was a mystery; no one should be 'close' with him, even if he wanted to.

There were rules.

And who was he to opposed them?

He was simply a peasant with dreadfully bad luck.

Amid his thoughts, his caramel eyes caught sight of a shadow moving behind a tree in the near distance. Curious, the guard turned his head slightly, only to see the shadow completely conceal themselves at his gaze. Odd. Someone was watching him. And judging by its reaction, it was either someone scared of him or scared of being caught. Or both. Maybe he'd be able to catch them in the act, his mind thought, cheeks beginning to brighten with a smirk.

And so, the guard returned to his song, looking back forward, yet making sure the corner of his eye could still catch sight of the tree. Casually, of course, even adding a small whistle to the melody. That bundle of shadows proved to be way too curious, sneaking forward out from the tree's protection to see the music come off the instrument. A small grin met the guard's face, now tapping his foot to appear to be lost in his music, trying to lure in the unexpected audience. He waited, kept strumming the strings of the lute until the person had come out enough for their face to be visible. Right quickly snapped his head in the direction, slamming the music to a holt with his hands.

Ah.

The prince.

Said prince made a small 'eep' at being spotted, quickly slinking behind the tree as though he wanted to stay hidden, even if he wanted to watch. A small sense of curiosity filled Right's soul, putting the instrument down onto the bench he was setting out, gesturing a hand to himself.

"Aye, it's a'right! I ain't gonna report ya."

...it seemed to have work, as the brunette slowly pushed himself into the light. It was much more casual attire the commoner had ever seen the prince wear. It was a simple combination of a baggy, long shirt and pants for nightwear with a fluffy robe over his shoulders. Big azure eyes of the young royal filled with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety. The commoner caught sight of it, lips curling up in a bright smile and waving over the prince with a friendly wave of his hand. It message got to the prince, Reginald taking a small seat next to him with a tight posture and stressed muscles.

"I apologise--" Began the prince immediately, fumbling with the gloves on his hands.

"I just-- heard it from my room and wanted to hear it better--"

Mm...

Nervousness covered the prince's posture, gloved hands reaching up to grab the edges of his robe sleeves and looking down. There was a small dash of crimson that painted over the young royal's face, a shy look in his eyes. In a way, the guard found himself to be surprised. The prince, the prince, coming down from his room, fully dressed to be asleep, to watch him play his music. The commoner plucked an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat and propping a leg up against the other, his right ankle rested against his left knee. There was a mixture of pride and satisfaction that filled his spirit, even when he intended to play music without an audience. Heh, almost ironic. In his efforts to get his mind off the prince, he only lured him out of his room.

"Izat so?" Murmured the guard, picking up his lute again and letting it rest in his hands. The hue on the prince's face deepened. To hide his embarrassment the royal buried his face into the fur, nodding slowly to answer his question.

Uh...hm.

Right never considered himself to be good with his words, but the prince looked so embarrassed that he felt the need to say something. But nothing came to surface, brown eyes drifting down to the instrument. It was a rickety old thing. Some of the wood was peeled off and the engraves had lone since eroded.

"Well..." Began the commoner, turning toward the smaller male with a grin. "Might as well giv' ya a front-row seat t'en." The commoner kicked up his song again, careful fingers strumming along with the notes. The emptiness within the garden evaporated immediately, now replaced with its minor notes. Despite the melancholy tone, there was a brightness that filled the space. It was obvious with how the prince slowly began to uncurl from his tight posture, eyes glued to the stringed instrument. As if a burden had lifted off of his exhausted shoulders. A grin of giddiness grew to Right's face, voice beginning to hum lowly in sync with the string's song, creating somewhat of gentle harmony.

"So, ye like music, eh?" Commented the guard, glancing over to the prince with one eye whilst his fingers still danced across the strings. Reginald gazed his eyes up to meet the commoner's, a hand falling to the back of his neck and rubbing it.

"I, erm..." There was a hesitation in his voice. "I do-- I haven't heard it in such a long time--"

...what?

The music slowed down the smallest bit, the commoner caught off by the comment. Never heard music for a long time? How much was a long time? Ah-- maybe that was a bad question. Skewing his lips in thought, the commoner turned his head completely toward the prince, who now looked down with shyness.

"W'y not?"

God-- he didn't even think about the implications of a question like that. It spewed out without a second thought, unlike the first question. Goddammit Right. The commoner facepalmed in his head. It was probably sensitive--

"Oh, uhm--" Surprisingly, the prince answered, gaze still refusing to look up. "I, uhm, just don't know how to play anything-- th-that's all..."

Don't...know how to play?

Well, that was NOT the answer he was expecting or anything along those lines. Didn't the royal have endless entertainers to play for him if he wanted to hear it? People would do anything for a royal. Royals were above everyone. Everyone. The prince had that power, didn't he?

The music had come to a stop at that point, Right putting the instrument to the side and turning toward the royal to make the conversation more one on one. "Can ya not...I dunno, ask someone to play f' ye?"

Whether it was because of Right turning to him or the prince acting on his own according, Right wasn't sure, but the royal turned his eyes up to meet those caramel ones that belonged to him. The crimson still lingered on his face, even more, a few shades darker. After a visible swallow, the prince's voice came to surface. “I...I don't like...asking people. Everyone's always, erm, busy with something--"

...

Ah.

Never in Right's whole life did he think he'd meet a noble such as Reginald. A royal that had all the power to command people but far too humble to use it. Even though his heart cried to hear music, he didn't want to disturb anyone. A pity formed into the guard's heart grin long gone and replaced by a deep frown. Right himself got the idea that the prince was hesitant to do a lot of things, but not to hear music?

That was upsetting.

"Aye, well..." The commoner wiped his mouth. "We ain't busy now; 'ow's 'bout I teach ya?"

The prince's reaction was immediate, blinking his eyes that went wide. There were probably a million thoughts going through the young royal's head, the prince probably needed a second to digest the thought. Right needed that moment too if he was being honest. The words tumbled out again (he found that happened a lot when he talked to the prince), and he just offered to teach him music. It was a mixture of a mystical feeling and a flustered one, heart pounding hard in his ears when his mind caught up with him.

Heh, maybe it was a bit dumb but it was worth a shot.

A small shot to see that amazement in the prince's eyes when he first saw the commoner playing.

Until eventually, very eventually, the prince found his voice again.

"R-Really--?"

It was giddy, filled to the brim with excitement. The frown that once rested on Right's face curled up into a smile. He didn't see the prince giddy often, since he was usually so busy with the ridiculous amount of work he had. But now there weren't any deadlines or paperwork. Just a simple offer to teach the prince something.

Heh. That'd be a first.

With a nod, the commoner felt a grin grow to his face, picking up the instrument again. "'course. Now, c'm'here. 'll show ye the basics."

XxX

Minty: I got in a fluff mood so have a smol fanfic :D

#medieval au #medieval fanfic #mintyfrosty au #mintyfrosty's au #mintyfrosty #princey #medieval!Regianld #medieval!Right #fluff #fanfic #thsc au #thsc #the henry stickmin collection #the henry stickmin collection au #reginald copperbottom #right hand man #rhm #long post

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chantsings · 3 years

Text

reading Sun blame earlier generations’ “softness” for being exploited, and then villainize all luxury is still extremely uncomfortable:

the historical examples of how problematic that line of argument is! the people get blamed before the king, who allowed their softness and laziness, and was thus just as culpable.

luxury: “a condition of abundance or great ease and comfort”, “something adding to pleasure or comfort but not absolutely necessary”. luxury is the enemy, but what counts as luxury in a place where hardships and nomadism are largely forced by dangerous conditions? currently some vacuans blame dust itself and think of dust as a symbol of vacuo’s downfall. even if being blessed with great resources created a luxurious society for early vacuans, we know that dust itself is hardly a luxury, it’s been shown time and time again to be pivotal for survival, not just for generating comfort and extravagance. and is it fair to blame all of these things first without blaming the foreign exploiters too, who came in and spoiled for these luxuries?

because we deserve it. what a heavy sentiment to unpack. this is plainly something like generational trauma and remembrance.

but sun obviously has some...??? complicated feelings about home that i wish was explored better.

in BTD Sun came off as insensitive a lot which felt a big contrast to him in the show. he was genuinely complicated in BTD, so your first instinct might be to dislike that and to prefer his simple loyalty and cheer in the show. but a closer look can be rewarding. Sun expresses that he finally feels like he was truly home a month after being back in vacuo. he doesn’t want to meet up with family, he doesn’t even let them know he’s back home. SSSN is on the fucking ROCKS, and literally everyone judges him as a leader and finds him lacking.

Velvet:

Coco:

Headmaster Theodore, Rumpole, and Scarlet:

in shade academy Sun takes issue with survivors of the fall of beacon making their own safe space group called the Beacon Brigade, calling it a mistake, feeling like all they’re doing is holding onto the past instead of focusing on the present. after an argument breaks out, Sun has to walk out. Scarlet says “You don’t know anything about loss, Sun” knowing full well that SSSN are all individuals taken refuge in vacuo, that Sun is a survivor of the fall of beacon and the attack on haven. perhaps even knowing a little about Sun’s family situation. we as readers learn that at seven years old, Sun could remember the tree that helps him activate his semblance better than his parents’ faces, who died in a grimm attack.

yet still throughout the book Sun gets called on to relay his knowledge about vacuo to everyone. several povs rely on this to shape their impression of the kingdom, saying things like “according to Sun vacuo is like this”. he’s a convenient reference to glean from, but they don’t trust him with much more than that.

it’s kind of a lot for Sun “i go where i’m needed” Wukong to be in this place with teammates & others who have beef with him or just think he’s incompetent.

what i’m getting at is by the end Sun expresses that “home isn’t really a place... it’s the people you keep coming back to”. the home-belonging was Blake for a long time in the show so it makes sense that when his relations in vacuo are rocky he has a hard time settling down, returned but not yet welcomed by or comfortable with the people he wants to come back to.

but as soon as some reconciliation and understanding happens, things get a little better & it feels like he could rehabilitate more sense of home (even though sssn reconciliation was...not....concluded very well).

#rwby #sun wukong #before the dawn #vacuo #rwby sun #yoinked from twitter and expanded a little

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squadrablog · 4 years

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ok I've joined the Ghiaccio hype train, could I request a Ghiaccio fic with a reader who doesn't like sudden loud noises and will definitely cry if you yell at them? they're really intimidated by Ghiaccio but they're comfortable with the rest of La Squadra, so he's struggling to be a good team member to someone who's always nervous around him. feel free to make it romantic or platonic, your writing is amazing!! 💕💕

Here you are! With the stuff I ended up focusing on I thought that shoehorning a romance in would feel weird, so I focused more on exploring the beginnings of a platonic friendship with him. Lots of awkward Ghiaccio and miscommunication but it all ends up good. :^)

Ghiaccio & Reader (platonic, gender neutral)

Ao3 Mirror Here.

Word Count: 3921

Warnings: Reader has childhood trauma w/ loud noises, not gone into in depth. Assassination job implied but doesn’t happen in text.

Under cut for length!

The last thing you saw yourself doing with your life was becoming an assassin, but here you were. You were a tough kid, scrappy and resourceful when it came down to it, but only because you had to be to get by. You always thought you’d eventually leave that old life behind. The gunshots echoing into the night from rival mafias squaring off to claim the neighborhood you lived in as their territory. The shouts from the man who took you in when you had nowhere else to go, only to berate you when you failed to pick enough pockets to meet his quotas. The way the older and meaner children would torment you, taunt and deride you, whenever you let your vulnerability show.

And you had, more or less, left those parts of it behind at least. When you joined Passione as a last ditch effort to survive you were given a sense of stability that you had never had before, and after initiation when your stand manifested as something powerful and deadly, it didn’t take too long for you to get placed into La Squadra di Esecuzione, Passione’s team of elite assassins.

As a stand user working with other stand users you rarely relied on guns to get your work done. You were no longer struggling to get by, and although your new Capo held his team to high standards he made sure you had ample training and was patient with you while you were still getting your footing. All your teammates were surprisingly supportive; even if they were wary of outsiders, when it came to their own family they looked out for each other.

It was a dangerous life, not without its own anxieties, but it was a much quieter life. It was a life in the shadows, with a roof over your head, with work that allowed you to use stealth and silence. Even if you couldn’t exactly say you were thrilled about being an assassin you were at least surrounded by people who genuinely cared about you now, watched over by a man who never raised his voice at you for things outside your control, and most comforting of all: you never needed to use a gun.

Not all loud noises set you off, just the ones that reminded you of the violent instability of your childhood and the cruelty of your guardian and peers. Your new teammates could get pretty noisy and spirited, but the boisterous and jovial nature of their laughter, even from their more intense teasing, was a comforting change of pace. You didn’t doubt your value or the fact they respected you.

Well, mostly. There was one teammate who was a bit harder for you to let your guard down around.

His name was Ghiaccio, and to say he was loud would be an understatement. When you first met him he had been a bit standoffish, but so were Risotto and Prosciutto. You knew it would take some time for everyone to accept you as a real part of the squad, and you were ready to be patient. But as you quietly observed everyone for those first few weeks, getting a feel for their individual personalities and their dynamics with each other, you found yourself very intimidated by Ghiaccio. He was able to pal around with the rest of them, even if he was gruff as a default, but when something upset him it was like a switch had been flipped.

He was critical of his squadmates’ performance out in the field, and he never hesitated to offer his critiques regardless of how little anyone wanted to hear them. He was critical of the way people talked, constantly nitpicking everyone’s pronunciations and word choice. He was critical of the way that chores around the house got done, judging everyone’s efforts by timeliness and thoroughness.

Everyone was able to brush him off most of the time without problem. When they actually valued what he had to say they never seemed to take the mean way he said it personally. They’d had plenty of time to get used to him and sift through the bullshit. They knew when something actually mattered to him and when something was just him blowing off steam for the sake of it. They knew when it was fair to ask him to shut up and when it was best to let him get it out of his system.

You steeled yourself as best as you could in those first few weeks, just telling yourself you needed some time to understand his quirks like the rest of your squad did, but your opinion changed immediately after your first mission with him.

“Is Prosciutto teaching you anything?” he barked out at you after you two finally managed to take out your hit. You flinched and looked away from his intense gaze. You were a bit anxious about being alone with him for the first time, and you wanted to give him your best effort to impress him, but being on so on edge caused you to make some big mistakes.

“Well?” he demanded when you said nothing. You had assumed it was a rhetorical question.

“Y-yes?” you stuttered out.

“Then you’re the one accountable for fucking up today. What the hell was that?” he asked, his question ending in something similar to a snarl.

Something that was different about working with Ghiaccio as opposed to working with the others was that he argued out loud to no one in particular about random topics that pissed him off. At first you thought he was expecting you to talk to him about how nonsensical some phrase was that Formaggio used before the two of you left, and you listened attentively, but he never gave you any room to respond. Eventually you realized he wasn’t really conversing, just yelling to yell. It was very distracting and it only made you fidget and lose focus.

“I… well…” you choked out. “It’s usually quieter… on my missions, since my stand is- well, since my stand is made for stealth and-”

“Me talking prevented you from doing your job correctly?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. You just shrunk even deeper within yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was insinuate your mistake had been his fault. There was no way that wouldn’t provoke his ire.

“N-no! You didn’t do anything wrong! It was me, I’m really sorry! It won’t happen again!” you squeaked out.

“Better not,” he grumbled sarcastically with a huff before turning to walk down the street towards his car. You followed, keeping a good distance behind him, not looking forward to the ride back to the base.

---

That had been weeks ago. While you had been doing a decent job at tolerating Ghiaccio before that mission, afterwards was a different story. You actively avoided him, checking if he was in rooms before entering, excusing yourself when he came into a room you were already in, shutting yourself in your room upstairs when you heard him start up on a rant somewhere on the main floor.

Eventually it was shamelessly (or perhaps shamefully) obvious to just about everyone.

“Dude, what happened on your mission with them?” Formaggio asked in a hushed tone one time after your footsteps had disappeared up the stairs. “They’re terrified of you.”

“How the fuck should I know? They haven’t said anything to me about it,” Ghiaccio shot back.

“Uh, yeah, duh. That’s what I’m saying. They won’t even sit in the same room as you,” Formaggio muttered.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he said, scrunching up his eyebrows. “But it’s not like they talk much to begin with.”

“Are you kidding?” Illuso interjected, inserting himself into his two teammates’ conversation, much to Ghiaccio’s annoyance. “I can get them to prattle on for hours about themself. They’re a real chatterbox once you get to know them.”

“Illuso, dude, have they told you the story about their mission with Pesci down at the wharf?” Formaggio asked with a big grin.

“Fuck, I almost forgot about that,” Illuso replied with a chuckle. “What about the time where-”

“Hey! Shut up for a second,” Ghiaccio snapped. “We’re all talking about the same person, right?”

Upon being interrupted Illuso narrowed his eyes at Ghiaccio before turning to Formaggio. “It’s obviously because of Ghiaccio’s poorly controlled rage. Have you ever seen the poor thing freeze up over a gunshot before?”

“No, but I can imagine. One time I tried scaring them from behind and it took them ten whole minutes to recover,” Formaggio responded.

“I haven’t done shit to them, what possible reason do they have to be scared of me?” Ghiaccio asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, what happened on that mission?” Formaggio asked again.

“It was pretty standard, I killed the bastard while they assisted. They did fuck up pretty bad, which is typical during training, so I pointed it out for their benefit. Then we left,” Ghiaccio recounted. “Nothing else happened.”

Formaggio raised an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“I don’t know! I think I asked if Prosciutto was doing his job right since they didn’t seem too confident. I asked if there was anything that might have contributed to their lackluster performance, but after thinking it over they said that it was on them.”

“Sounds pretty level headed and analytical of you,” Illuso said, stroking his chin. “Are you sure that’s how you said it?”

“Probably not in so many words, I was probably more casual about it,” Ghiaccio grumbled. “Why does it matter how I said it? What’s important is what I said.”

“Ghiaccio, your brand of casual is a few decibels above what’s average,” Illuso said.

“Not to mention the casual expletives, or the casual sarcasm,” Formaggio added. “Are you sure you didn’t casually tell them to go fuck themself without realizing it?”

“No! I mean, if I was stern with them it was in the context of training!” Ghiaccio insisted.

“Are we being trained right now? Is that why you’re yelling at us?” Illuso asked with a smirk.

“This is just how I talk!” Ghiaccio said, bringing a hand up to his temple. “Ugh, I don’t fucking know! Maybe I yelled at them? I remember being very straightforward. They seemed kind of on edge, but I just assumed that’s how they always are!” He dropped his hand and turned to look at his two teammates. “Are they really not like that on missions with you?”

“Not anymore,” Illuso said with a shrug. “At first a bit, but they’re pretty reliable now.”

“You’ve got to go slow with them. They’re easily set off, but if they know they can count on you they’re able to push through it,” Formaggio said.

“My stand is invincible and I never even let the guy near them. There’s no one better suited for watching someone’s blind spot than me,” Ghiaccio said with his hand splayed out on his chest.

“I mean, like… emotionally,” Formaggio said, scratching the back of his head. “If I was to put myself in their headspace I’d say they probably think you hate them.”

“I don’t hate them,” Ghiaccio spat loudly.

“Good! Now step two is letting them know that,” Illuso said, clapping a hand on Ghiaccio’s back, causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

Ghiaccio grumbled and pushed his glasses back up. He knew that things were weird between the two of you ever since your mission, but it never even crossed his mind it was because of something he said. Is this what Prosciutto felt like training Pesci? But even Pesci had never been avoidant or scared of Prosciutto for all the tough love that he gave him. Pesci looked up to him like an older brother.

If he was really the only one in all of La Squadra that you were uncomfortable around, then he supposed it was on him now to figure out why.

---

The base was pretty quiet today, with a lot of missions landing on Risotto’s desk this week. While you were quite fond of your new teammates you liked having the common area all to yourself on a quiet evening, especially if you were curled up with a novel. When you first started living at the base it felt like a luxury, but even after you had gotten used to the quiet its novelty hadn’t worn off for you.

The sound of a key jingling at the front door had you peeking over your book. When Ghiaccio appeared framed by the living room entrance you held your breath. Hopefully he’d be going upstairs… no, it looked like he was coming into the common area. That’s okay, you could move, so you started standing up, except… he was looking right at you, heading in your direction.

“Sit down,” he said stiffly, and after a beat he added, “Please?”

“Uhh! Okay!” you said, sitting back down and bringing your book right back up to cover your face.

“Can you also, uh. Please. Put the book down?” Ghiaccio said, his voice strained to maintain a monotone and flatten out any inflection. You did as he asked, although you still couldn’t meet his eyes, and he just stared at you awkwardly.

“Uh-”

“Hello,” he said, and it left his mouth at the exact same time your muttered exclamation had. Another awkward pause.

“Hi?” you said, unsure. This wasn’t what you were expecting from your next conversation with the man, for as long as you had postponed it. You thought he’d be demanding to know why you were ignoring him, or getting on your case about being too sensitive to handle his criticism on your last mission. Maybe that was yet to come?

“You are afraid of me,” Ghiaccio stated flatly. Then perhaps he realized he wanted to ask it as a question. “Yes?”

“Oh, no, I’m…” you muttered.

“Of course you are,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could mumble out an excuse. You got pretty embarrassed by that, but you swallowed and moved your eyes up to gauge his expression. He didn’t look angry, but he looked hyper focused to the point of distress. His lips were pressed together tightly as if he was trying to hold back from speaking again.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“For being scared of me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He was being sarcastic again, wasn’t he?

“No, I… I mean… I’m sorry for,” you started, trying to think of something legitimate to actually be sorry about. “For fucking up on the mission.”

“Did fucking up on the mission really bother you that much?” he said. Not only were you stupid for fucking up the mission, but you were also stupid for letting it bother you for so long! What did he want you to say?

“No, I mean…”

But Ghiaccio cut you off with a long loud exhale. “Look, I’m not great at this kind of thing. I understand that I make you anxious, and I understand that for whatever reason it’s hard for you to talk to me, but I really can’t understand what people say unless they drop all the bullshit.” When you frowned and looked away he tried again. “Not bullshit, fuck, uh. No, not fuck... It’s just that. I need you to say exactly what you mean. I can’t tell what people are thinking unless they make it… easy for me.”

You looked back at him. Whatever he was here to talk about with you, he was trying very hard not to raise his voice. The way he was talking to you was too stilted to be anything but intentional. If he was doing this for your sake, then you would try to meet him halfway. You took a moment to think, to choose what you wanted to say carefully.

“I don’t do well with loud noises. I also… take things very personally. I’ve been worrying that you…” You took another second before committing. “...Hate me.”

He pressed his lips in a thin line again as some noise tried to escape his throat, perhaps an instinctive denial. “What about me makes you think that?”

“Well… you seemed pretty disappointed in me after the mission.”

“I was checking in with you. I wanted to make sure Prosciutto was properly training you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “But… but you sounded really angry and sarcastic.”

Ghiaccio closed his eyes and thought about that for a second. “I probably was angry, but not at you. You just fucked up on something so basic that I had to wonder if Prosciutto was actually teaching you anything useful.”

“That’s… not how you said it though,” you said, feeling defensive. “I… I know I did something dumb… but I’ve never messed up with my stand like that before. It was different on that mission.”

“Me talking to myself?” Ghiaccio asked. He had been fixating over what he said to you at the end of that mission for days now, trying to remember all the details. He recalled how you had started with one explanation, but you quickly retracted it.

“You were… so angry the entire mission,” you complained. “Everyone else is quiet on missions with me because my stand is better suited to it.”

“It wasn’t a stealth mission,” Ghiaccio countered. “We were using your stand for something different. I wasn’t even talking to you.”

“I know!” you groaned. “You weren’t trying to distract me, but when things get too loud I…”

“But you took it back. You said it wasn’t me,” Ghiaccio said, leaning forward. His voice had risen just a little, but when he noticed how you reacted to that he tensed up.

“I took it back because I was afraid of upsetting you!” you said, leaning back into the couch as far as you could. “Because when I brought it up… you were mean about it… so I took it back! I thought you were trying to tell me it was my fault, so I took the blame like I thought you wanted!”

“I was… I was asking for clarification! If I did something that caused you to fuck up then I want to know that I did so we can talk about it!” He was clenching his fists to keep his upward inflections from becoming full-blown yelling.

“None of that came across!” you complained. “Like… maybe you technically said those things, but the way you said made it come across completely different!”

“What about you? Now you’re telling me that you meant something completely different from the things you actually said to me!?”

“I-I… but I was obviously upset! I was obviously just trying to appease you!”

“How was it obvious? I thought you were upset because you fucked up! No one likes fucking up!”

“Yeah, no kidding!” You realized at this point that your own voice was starting to rise, which was making Ghiaccio raise his to match yours, and you took a deep breath before speaking calmly again. “I was upset because I was afraid.”

It was quiet again for a little while until Ghiaccio broke the silence.

“Being mean and angry comes really easy to me,” he said, running his fingers through his curls. “Even when I don’t realize it, I still am. Even if I think I’m being reasonable, people misunderstand. I’ve been so used to the others actually being able to take it that I forgot how bad it was.” He scratched at his head a bit. “I also have a hard time telling how loud I actually am until someone points it out.”

You sat there for a moment, soaking that in, before you gave a small amused huff with a half-smile on your face. “I’m not great with loud noises because of what they mean to me. Gunshots remind me of a time when I wasn’t safe… but I can protect myself now, and I have other people who will protect me too. But yelling reminds me of… how I was never good enough for anyone.” You tapped your fingers on the cover of the book on your lap and shrugged.

“I hear from the others that you’re really skilled and reliable on missions,” Ghiaccio said. “I didn’t see that from you when we worked together, but maybe that’s because I was the one who fucked up.”

“But you didn’t...” you started.

“I fucked up by not meeting you where you were at. You’re new. I don’t know you, I don’t know what you’re like. If we had talked beforehand, if I had worked with you, then you probably wouldn’t have made that mistake. I was taking the lead on that mission, it was my job to train you to use your stand in an unfamiliar circumstance. I use missions to get out all the shit that makes me angry, since I don’t need to stay quiet. You don’t work like that. You had no idea what I was yelling for. I never told you how I do things, I just expected you to brush it off like everyone else does.”

You blinked a few times. You had been pretty quick to blame yourself for your own shortcomings, but hearing him say that really recontextualized that entire mission experience. You might have fucked up, but it was now obvious that he did not hold it against you. “That’s surprisingly self-aware of you.”

He rolled his eyes and set his elbow on the couch’s armrest, plopping his head on his fist. “You don’t know me either. I’m more than a raving heartless bastard. Stuff like this… not understanding why other people think the way they do, or what I’m doing wrong… it really fucks me up. I don’t hate you. You’re a part of my family now and I genuinely want to help you get stronger. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Ghiaccio was nothing like you thought. He was actually really sensitive and introspective. You could tell it was hard for him to confront you like this, almost as hard as it was for you to be confronted. You appreciated that he wanted to put in the effort to have a relationship with you.

“Thank you Ghiaccio. And I’m sorry I avoided you instead of trying to talk about it like this.” You reached over and placed your hand on his shoulder with a gentle smile. He seemed taken aback by the contact, but he relaxed after a moment.

“Are we… good?” he huffed out.

“I think so!”

He let out one long exhale that seemed to go on forever. “Thank fuck,” he muttered, before turning to look at you. “Goddamn it, sorry.”

“It’s not the swearing that bothers me,” you clarified. “It’s the intention behind it. You’re… uh… fucking good, my dude.”

He let out a snort at the awkward way you said that before bringing his hand up to cover his face, looking away in embarrassment.

“Aw, no, that was cute,” you assured him, which only made it worse.

“Well, if we’re done here then I’m heading to bed,” he said, and you glanced at the clock in the living room. It had gotten pretty late. He stood up and started walking towards the stairs.

“We have a mission together again this weekend, right?” you asked, and he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. And you meant it. “Goodnight!”

“...Night,” he said, before he disappeared around the corner.

#ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #jojo imagines #jjba scenarios #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #my writing #anon

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