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ganondoodle · 8 days ago

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botw2 (totk rewritten) ganondorf design (+some story) post

Mummy version what link and zelda discover beneath hyrule castle when investigating the failing shiekah tech and discover a cave system that leads to several abandoned shiekah research/security sites and ultimately lead to a cave in which ganondorf is still sealed away by the ancient queen of hyrule; after the initial sealing (or capture rather) her descendant and the shiekah, who were rapidly advancing their tech at the time, build around it, both to keep the seal secret and safe (as the actual sealing was a short but intense battle between him and the queen that wasnt intended to happen like that, in the middle of the throne room that got broken and both ended up in the underground, the only survivor being the young princess of hyrule from that time- since all involved parties except for her died little was known as to how and why but the stories were spun regardless and ultimately the final narrative was in hyrules favor) and to use ganondorfs immense spiritual power and magical skill- eventually becoming one of the main power sources for all shiekah technology (ouch)

the chamber is all shiekah built (post sealing) and similarly secured like the monks in shrines (though visibly decaying and failing)- once disturbed the remainder of the ancient queen fused into zeldas hand (with seemingly no effect but temporary pain, perhaps she will hear voices from the past telling her not to explore any further .. still working on that) ganondorfs body falls to the ground but then springs back to life, somewhat clumsily but fiercly attacking zelda and link, the shock from being in this horrendous condition between life and death for thousands and thousands of years and suddendly being thrust back into his decayed and used up body still fresh

the mastersword is broken and links arm destroyed, both link and zelda start to flee from the crumbling cave, zelda dragging link behind her in panic (and as he is hurt)- after which link gets his shiekah tech arm (and the arm stays gone) and the world changes

mid game fight- this game is not as free in progression as botw, you can do alot when you want but some things will remain locked, the mid game fight can only happen once the 4 main regions problems have been dealt with (very different to canon totk, but that is for a different post) and the castle, which fell into the underground shortly after the intro, is made accessible (specific way how still in work) the interior is both broken castle, rooms previously blocked, and shiekah tech- since beneath the castle was a whole, giant array of tech made to secure the castle, including reserves of ancient energy specifically for the royal family and the entire mechanism behind the rising pillars filled with guardians-

at the start of the dungeon link is grabbed by malice/miasma hands and dragged into the castle, seperated from zelda and the mechanics she introduced (crafting/reparing weapons and more), theres no way out, teleports are blocked; after getting further in alone, zelda finds you again, and nothing seems out of the ordinary (unless you have a keen eye, she only uses her left arm and would walk past things she usually wouldnt) after a certain amount of progression, without warning, as soon as zelda is out of the cameras view she will attack you relentlessly, not speaking a word and with changed eye color- after fighting with her/beign chased into the main throne room, the real zelda breaks through a wall, her friends in tow (yunobo, teba+tulin, riju, sidon, which she went to to ask for help, explaining the time gap), and ganondorf drops the disguise, a fight with him (mummy version) ensues, though he is very much back to his senses

at the end of the fight he shows (or forces her to see) zelda his last memory from when he lived, the confrontation with the ancient queen to his sealing (since she doesnt know/is in denial of her families role in both all this and the sonaus (zonais) extinction (as well as the betrayal and persecution of the shiekah later on), and his beef is with her specifically, link is just her guard dog after all) (i wasnt sure to include a direct scene from the past, but this one scene is very self contained and gives alot of context while still letting most of the past be a mystery- as i want to keep it as feeling ... removed and unknown as much as possible from the world you know)

(after which he leaves the scene as zelda tries to understand what she just saw)

post revival Ganondorf (beginning of end fight cutscene and phase 1.) only appears at the end (excluding the possible cutscene in the mid game fight, which shows him in his time, alive, which is a different design than this that i will make for a cutscene/story post)

the end of the game is in/on the forgotten plateau (it ends were botw began :) ) perhaps it rose higher and revealed an entrance after more game progression (at least one more dungeon, master kogas, and the restorations of the master sword via deku tree dungeon and sword quest involving the dragons; how much of the past you cared to explore within caves, which ARE the underground- its in several bigger and smaller, harder to access caves, each being somewhat to very unique and reveal more context, is largely irrelevant, it mostly serves to give YOU more context and make you think)

the dungeon is within the plateau, once to the end there is a longer cutscene of zelda trying to talk with ganondorf, now in his, largely, restored form (largely as in, not exactly as he was in past, clothing difference etc), her having come to understand what her legacy is and wanting to take responsibility for it; he listens calmly and talks to her for a bit (but the tension is very high, he knows what threat he poses and his goals, zelda is visibly trying to keep it together) and for a bit it might look like she can avoid this conflict

but he makes it very clear then, that she cannot undo anything, there is no possible price she could pay, he has suffered at hyrules hands for generations, having seen the world that was his home grow into myth, see his own people forget him, and how the history was remembered, not as it was, but as they wanted it to; he is forever changed, ripped from his time and all he ever held dear (there are clues and a mention of him having had two daughters, a little boar figurine, carved from wood of trees now extinct, hangs from his belt even now)- he wasnt a perfect king, but well liked and kept his country to stay strong against hyrules schemes .. until he fell- he is not truly alive, he is in a strangers world and this world hates him, it is anger and hatred, rage against all that happend, guilt for having failed his own, feeling betrayed by them yet, even if not truly their fault as no one knew what really happened except him, but he was imprisoned, with no breath to speak nor air to scream

he does not care for this world and his only goals now are to disrupt as much as possible, be the unstoppable force that hyrules always been, be the monster they wanted him to be, do as he wants until someone stops him ...and kill zelda to end her rotten family- but even if she gave up her life willingly he wouldnt take it, she will have to fight and make her own hands dirty and she does not want to die.

your friends arrive, and the battle begins.

(rough examples of his weapons are further below; he fights with one arm only in phase 1. then reforms his missing arm with malice, borrowed from the boar appearance, though it is not usable enough to truly replace it, it acts more like beasts claw and to copy some of links abilities, like the hookshot)

Beast Ganon(dorf), normal appearance (phase 3)

at the end of phase 2 he knocks out your friends, changes into beast form and attacks you, zelda using her magic to shield both her and link so he cannot bite through, instead smashes them both through stone and dirt all the way to the surface of the plateau on which the fight continues, this time only link and zelda

(his movement isnt a senseless rage, but a graceful being, he moves and jumps, floats and swims through the air as the ground in an almost dragon like way, he still wields magic, not all malice, but lightning and perhaps even more too, it is still him, just a different form)

Beast Ganon(dorf) while charging magic (phase 3)

Ganondorf phase 2 + Ganondorf phase 4 (slightly out of order but the boar wouldnt fit on one picture with other forms)

at the end of phase 3 (beast) it seems like you have beaten him, he is down and zelda takes charge, ready to do as she did to the dark beast she faced before (dark beast ganon in botw) but as she raises her hand a sword slash cuts off half her right hand- he is not done yet and refuses to be dealt with like that again, not by her hand again-

the final phase is a mix of all, including his appearance, this is the final struggle, to give every last drop of strength, the hole in his chest is open, malice eyes staring from within, it keeps him alive yet still-

zelda is disabled for this fight, she has been taken to safety by your friends, this fight is all on link to finish; while this is his most desperate and vengeful form, he is not senseless either, he summons his sword to attack you with as he did in phase 2, then throws it at you, quickly conducting lighting to it and while you are busy dodging lunges like in beast form (to paint the picture a little), this fight is supposed to be truly challenging.

(heres a rough example for his weapons)

(not fully sure of the ending scene, but there is supposed to be a short view into a timeskip in which zelda also has half a prosthetic hand made from shiekah tech)

#ganondoodles #art #zelda #tloz #ganondoodles rewrites totk #botw2 #ganondorf #legend of zelda #... it was supposed to be more focused on the design and less about story #but .... i do be writing #most design notes are on the pictures i hope its readable #and the lore dump isnt too much ...........................#i am actually really really nervous about this #bc i want to do ganondorf justice but also feel like im using so many tropes that in turn its just as bad as canon totk #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah #also it took me over an hour to write all this #i always get carried away and start describing things like its darn book nhjkdfnkjdnkfjd #anyway im gonna hide in bed now #long post #accidentally so but i dont have the heart to delete all that text #nor to spend another hour describing stuff again ..#do tell how you liked it if you made it all the way through ......... im bracing myself for criticism #like i like all i came up with but dont know if it comes across as i want or writtten badly or maybe its not good #just what I would like more ...........................

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uyuforu · 8 months ago

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Composite Observations II

It's been a while since I made some Composite posts! So I have decided to make some more. This one will be based on mine with my FS, I really like it not gonna lie haha. This post can also be taken as Davison or Progressed Composite observations! Also had some Sugar Sugar Rune pictures for this post and used to love this manga when I was young! Also funny thing but I realized Chocolat and Pierre (both main characters of the story) are the same sun signs as me and my FS ;-; One of the first manga I read and watched. I listened to the opening OST while writing this post lmao, i'm so nostalgic. This observation is only for romantic composite!!

All pictures are from Pinterest.

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Composite Observation I

જ⁀➴ Synastry & Composite with In-Laws I

જ⁀➴ Lunar Return Observations II

Book a private reading: menus ; Q&A ; rules ; instagram

✮⋆˙ Libra/ 7°/ 19° Rising means the couple will look good together. They look very much in love, and like the it-couple. They are very romantic towards each other too. Couple also look into each other since the start, it was romance since the every first moment. Couple could be very much into PDA.

✮⋆˙ Taurus/ 2°/ 14°/ 26° Rising will also have that it-couple vibe since it's also a sign ruled by Venus. Couple look like they care about they appearance when they are together, but mostly like they care about each other. Couple could also be into PDA. Could also love to shop together and to eat outside.

✮⋆˙ Taurus Sun makes the couple trust each other a lot, and wanting something long term. Couple is very romantic and sensual with each other, like to flirt a lot. They can love to buy each other gifts, and could also love to spend time with each other.

✮⋆˙ 7H Sun makes the couple care the most about each other, they can become the most important person in each other's life very fast. They can also feel like they found the one for them. They could have always seen each other in a serious relationship.

✮⋆˙ North Node conjunct Rising could mean their meeting was destined and they are meant to be in each other's life.

✮⋆˙ 1H Ruler in 2H can mean people view you as a couple who has money, you could look good and always presentable. You could see yourself that way too, and you could also think you look like an it-couple.

✮⋆˙ Aries DSC can be a sign of marrying fast, or things going fast between you two when you get together.

✮⋆˙ Juno 1H could be a sign of love at first sight, or finding each other very attractive physically. It can also be falling in love very fast with each other.

✮⋆˙ Venus conjunct Pluto is a sign of a very passionate relationship. The couple could want to have some steamy times all the times and being physically close to each other could be a need at some point. Love is intense but slightly toxic at some point.

✮⋆˙ Venus 2H is a sign of long term love, this couple can grow long term and stronger with time in this house. This placement can suggest the couple can make money together and work together. They can love to know what the other one loves and their tastes. They wanna know everything of the other one. Love languages can be gifts giving, physical touches and quality time.

✮⋆˙ 2H Ruler in 2H means money will take a big place in this relationship! The couple could gain a lot of money after marriage or while being together. They could also love to buy each other gifts.

✮⋆˙ Pluto 2H means the way the couples look at possessions and money will change once they meet and even get together. It can also means their money status can change when being together. Perhaps they can gain more while being together.

✮⋆˙ Mars 3H makes the couple have real conversations and find each other's mind very stimulating. A lot of flirting too.

✮⋆˙ Venus conjunct Mars could mean the couple love to show their love in their most intimates moment, and it can also mean to be very compatible in the heated moments. Very passionate love.

✮⋆˙ Mars conjunct Pluto could make the relationship vert intense, and more physically. The physical attraction is over the roof.

✮⋆˙ Sagittarius Venus means the couple could love to teach the other one some new things, couple could love to learn new things together. Couple could be from two different cultures and love to learn from each other. Couples could be very spontaneous too.

✮⋆˙ Sagittarius Mars means they can be more curious when being together, and more open minded too. The couple could be more optimistic when being together too. Like to hear the other's point of view too.

✮⋆˙ Scorpio Juno makes their relationship very possessive and obsessive over each other. They can often stalk the other person online and think of them all the time. Very intense and passionate but also very obsessive and slightly toxic.

✮⋆˙ Neptune 3H is a sign of giving each other love letters, wiring beautiful love declarations and perhaps even being each other's muse.

✮⋆˙ 3H Ruler in 4H could mean the way they communicate could be very soft, and very nice, they don't usually scream at each other. They are very nice to each other. They could speak about family and children often. The idea of having a family could be often discussed.

✮⋆˙ Jupiter 4H makes the couple happy to be together, they will feel more happy and lucky once they move in together and create their family. Both feel like they will be able to bloom in this relationship. A huge sign of long term love.

✮⋆˙ 6H Ruler in 3H means one of the challenge of this relationships is to communicate, perhaps communication can be hard sometimes and it can create some problems. Their lesson is to communicate properly to make their relationship work.

✮⋆˙ 8H Ruler in 2H could mean this couple will own a lot of possession and gain a lot of money together. They could also be very private about their possession, not the type to show off.

✮⋆˙ 9H Ruler in 7H could mean this couple will often travel together, during their marriage and traveling, going on adventures are something they will always do and love to do together.

✮⋆˙ 10H Ruler in 7H means this couple's has high chance to get married. Since there is a 7H stellium, this could mean this couple could be meant to indeed get married. This couple could also work together.

✮⋆˙ 11H Ruler in 7H could mean this couple is best friend as the same time to be lovers.

✮⋆˙ North Node Libra makes the couple's purpose to understand how to have a healthy and balanced relationship. The ying and yang energies need to be balanced and perhaps both people need to tune into their own energy. This can also be a sign of being destined to be in a romantic relationship, none of them will be able to just stay friends (Libra is ruled by Venus).

✮⋆˙ North Node 12H isn't a sign of "meant to break up". Please stop associating the 12H as a bad house. It's indeed a house of endings, but not only, and those endings are good. NN Composite in the 12H to me means more of ending illusions about yourself. The relationship will have a true wake up call and perhaps more on the spiritual side, a deep spiritual awakening.

In my case, I indeed have NN Libra 12H, this can be interpreted as the relationship ending bad cycles in our life in order for us to step into our divine masculine and divine feminine energies. It's very spiritual like.

✮⋆˙ North Node conjunct Chiron is a sign of healing because if the relationship. The couple's destiny is to help each of them heal through their relationship.

And yeah it also has Chiron in that 12H too, I'll talk about it more later, but it's clear that the spiritual awakening.

✮⋆˙ Uranus 4H means the couple will probably change the idea they had of "home" when they meet or even get together.

When I met my FS, I felt so at home with him that he is what I consider home now. The idea I also had of home & family changed when I met him.

✮⋆˙ Jupiter conjunct Uranus is a sign of having an exciting life together, the relationship can also be very spiritual and this aspect can be a sign of a spiritual awakening indeed.

✮⋆˙ 4H Ruler in 4H is a sign of having a long term relationship. It can also be a sign of wanting to live together and have a family together.

✮⋆˙ 5H Ruler in 4H is a sign this couple will want children together, the ruler being Jupiter can create more chances to have some. This is also a sign of living together being fun.

✮⋆˙ 5H Ruler in 3H could mean this couple could laugh and joke a lot together. Talking is fun, they could have a lot of inside joke together. They could also like to sing together, and express their passion to each other. Serenading could be a thing. Talking about having children too.

✮⋆˙ Saturn 6H is a sign that the couple's routine can make it hard for them to build a relationship or to find time to spend together. Their work and busy schedule can create a true obstacle, yet this will be a challenge the couple will need to face and be careful with.

The challenge here will be to organize a good schedule that will enable the couple to still find time for them in this very busy life!

✮⋆˙ Sun conjunct Mercury means the couple is very intellectual and love to exchange ideas, having conversations is not something the couple lack, and if both partner have strong Mercury or Air signs in their own chart, this will be very pleasing for them.

✮⋆˙ Sun conjunct Moon means a divine union, more if it's in the 7H! It can also be a sign of soulmates or high level soulmates in some cases.

✮⋆˙ Leo MC could make this couple famous, or just well known. This couple is a show off couple, and they could be very expressive towards each other. The kind of couple to be huge on PDA.

✮⋆˙ Part of Fortune 10H is a sign of the couple having more chance to work and build something together. Fame as a couple is possible.

✮⋆˙ POF Leo is another fame sign for the couple! Shining and being seen for sure.

✮⋆˙ Taurus Mercury means the couple is very nice, romantic and soft when they interact with each other, and they may not be aggressive even if they argue. Can often use a sensual and charming voice when they talk to each other.

✮⋆˙ Mercury 7H means the couple can flirt a lot and be very romantic. They can think of dating each other right when they first talk, thinking they could totally be in a relationship together.

✮⋆˙ Taurus Moon means the couple thinks this relationship can be long term and they can often feel romantic feelings for each other. They will wanna make anything out of a date together.

✮⋆˙ Moon 7H will make the couple feel like the company of the other person is what they crave the most, they will want to spend only time together, and it's a sign of deep love and commitment.

✮⋆˙ 7H Ruler in 3H could mean this couple is very romantic to each other and may express it a lot to each other. They can make a lot of love declaration to each other.

✮⋆˙ Boda 7H is another big sign of marrying each other. The wedding will be veryyyyy romantic.

✮⋆˙ Taurus Boda makes the wedding of the couple very beautiful and romantic too, the aesthetic will be beautiful.

✮⋆˙ Boda conjunct Mercury is a sign a proposal will most likely happen in their relationship. The couple can also talk a lot about marriage together, and also the wedding they want.

✮⋆˙ 7H Stellium means the couple can't feel like they don't want to do anything without the other one. They feel like their life without each other is meaningless. It creates a very strong bond and they may want to be with each other until the end. They are two who make one. Even if both people are independent, they will not want to be away from each other.

✮⋆˙ Groom 7H could mean groom is very romantic, and he could be in love with briede. He could want to cuddle a lot and do romantic things for briede the most. Groom will probably talk a lot about marriage and wedding matters. Groom conjunct Mercury, another big sign a proposal is indeed a possibility, and Groom could feel like proposing very fast to Briede.

✮⋆˙ Briede 5H could mean briede is romantic too but could want to do more dates, she could be the one making the dates fun more than romantic. Briede will talk a lot about the relationship and children.

✮⋆˙ Groom Taurus will make groom probably have a lot of money, and groom can possibly also be good looking. Groom will care of his appearance and is a flirty person too. Groom could also want to pay in most of dates and will want to buy a lot of things for briede.

✮⋆˙ Briede Pisces means briede will be soft, emotional, has a big empathy, and perhaps too nice. She can also be quite shy, in her world, but very imaginative. Briede will be very romantic and perhaps will do a lot of love declarations for groom. Briede will want to take care of groom too. Briede may be more spiritual than groom.

✮⋆˙ 9H Ruler being Mercury could be a sign this couple speaks many different languages or just are a foreign couple who speaks two different languages.

✮⋆˙ Chiron Libra can mean the couple had some traumas related to love, relationships and will heal those in this relationship.

✮⋆˙ Chiron 12H means this relationship is very spiritual and indeed the two of them will heal the other's wounds. Yet, there can be time of self-sabotage in the relationship because of those wounds.

Thank you for reading!

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aceyalonso · 7 months ago

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viii - i could see you being my addiction

chapter summary : where you and oscar finally talk it out after each other for a whole day, and may or may not have fucked it out too

alternative summary : oscar proves how much he loves y/n (in more ways that just confessing)

warnings : swearing, smoking, smut, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), oral (fem!receiving), the TINIEST bit of overstimulation

word count : 8.8k

a/n : wow they finally fuck

song : i can see you - taylor swift

Friday, 10:41 PM

Y/n spends the rest of the evening trying to distract herself from her thoughts and feelings. She watches movies on her laptop, trying to immerse herself in different worlds and stories. But no matter how engaging the film is, her mind keeps wandering back to Oscar.

She can’t help but replay the events of the day in her mind, especially the kiss they shared. She finds herself getting lost in memories of his lips on hers, his hands on her arms, the possessive look in his eyes. She tries to shake the memories away, but they stubbornly persist.

As the hours pass, Y/n starts to feel tired from the emotional rollercoaster of the day. But despite her tiredness, she finds it hard to fall asleep. Her mind continues to race with thoughts of Oscar, and she can’t seem to quiet her emotions or her body’s reaction to his memory.

She tosses and turns in her bed, feeling a mixture of frustration and desire. She knows that she needs to talk to Oscar and clear the air between them, but she’s not sure how to approach the subject. She’s afraid of his reaction, and she doesn’t want to make things more complicated than they already are.

Saturday, 1:33 AM

Eventually, after hours of tossing and turning, Y/n manages to calm herself down enough to drift off to sleep. But her sleep is restless and uneasy, plagued by dreams of Oscar and their complicated situation.

In her dreams, Y/n relives the kiss over and over again, feeling all the intensity and desire of the moment. She sees Oscar’s possessive expression, feels his hands on her arms, his body pressing against hers. The dreams are both thrilling and overwhelming, leaving her feeling more confused and conflicted than ever.

As the night progresses, the dreams become more intense and vivid. Y/n finds herself waking up every so often, feeling a sense of longing and need that she can’t explain. Despite her tumultuous thoughts and emotions, she eventually falls into a deeper sleep, her mind and body exhausted.

Saturday, 7:29 AM

When she finally wakes up the next morning, Y/n feels groggy and disoriented. She sits up in her bed, squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the window. As she slowly comes to her senses, she’s hit with a wave of recollection of the previous events - the party, the fight, the kiss, and her restless dreams all rush back to her.

Y/n drags herself out of bed and shuffling into her bathroom. She turns on the faucet and splashes water onto her face, trying to wake herself up and shake off the grogginess from her restless night. She looks at her reflection in the mirror, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and the weary expression on her face.

She runs her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth out the tangles and messy strands. As she looks at her reflection, she can’t help but feel a sense of trepidation about what the day will bring. She knows she’ll have to face Oscar and deal with their unresolved feelings, and the thought makes her stomach flutter with anxiety.

Despite her nerves, Y/n takes a deep breath and tries to psych herself up for the day ahead. She turns off the faucet and grabs a towel to dry her face. She knows she can’t avoid Oscar forever, no matter how much she wants to. She will have to talk to him sooner or later, and she needs to gather her thoughts and prepare herself for the conversation.

Y/n exits the bathroom, feeling a little more awake and composed. She walks back to her bed and sits down on the edge, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. She knows that she needs to face the day and all the challenges it will bring, but she can’t help feeling apprehensive about her inevitable encounter with Oscar.

As she sits there on the edge of her bed, Y/n takes a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. She tells herself that she can handle this, that she can face Oscar and talk to him like a mature adult. She knows that it won’t be easy, but she’s determined to get to the bottom of their feelings and figure out where they stand.

Y/n stands up from the bed, feeling a sense of determination overtake her anxiety. She knows that she can’t hide away in her room all day, no matter how tempting it may be. She takes one last deep breath and opens the door, stepping out into the hallway.

Y/n steps out into the hallway, she hears voices coming from downstairs. She figures her parents must be up and about, no surprise there. She slowly descends the stairs, feeling a mixture of anticipation and dread as she approaches the kitchen.

As she enters the kitchen, she sees her parents sitting at the breakfast table, drinking coffee and chit-chatting. They look up as she enters, giving her a smile and a nod. "Good morning," her mom greets her. "Sleep well?"

Y/n forces a smile, trying to seem normal and composed. "Yeah, I slept okay," she replies, sitting down at the table. Her mind is still preoccupied with thoughts of Oscar and their situation, but she tries to hide it from her parents.

Her mom looks closely at her, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. "You look tired," she remarks. "Are you sure you slept okay?"

Y/n nods, trying to dismiss her mom’s concern. "I’m fine, just had a tough night sleeping," she says, feigning a casual tone.

Her dad looks at her, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "You sure there’s nothing going on that’s bothering you?" he asks, peering at her over his mug.

Y/n tries to keep up her air of nonchalance, not wanting to reveal any details about her situation with Oscar. "No, everything’s fine," she says, forcing a smile. "Just had a lot on my mind, that’s all."

Her parents exchange a glance, not fully convinced by her answer. But they don’t press the issue, knowing that Y/n can be closed off when she wants to be. They continue to talk amongst themselves, and Y/n tries to focus on her breakfast, but her mind keeps wandering to Oscar.

As she eats, she finds herself wondering what Oscar is doing at that moment. Is he up yet? Is he thinking about her? Is he as confused and conflicted as she is? She has a million questions and no answers, and it’s driving her crazy.

Oscar

I lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling and lost in thought. The events of the previous day play on repeat in my mind, and I can't shake the memory of the kiss I shared with her. Her taste, her touch, the way she looked at me afterwards - It's all I can think about.

I toss and turn in my bed, trying to get comfortable. My body is restless, and my mind is racing with emotions I can't quite understand. I feel conflicted and torn, knowing I have I feelings for Y/n but I'm unsure of what to do about them.

I look at the clock on the wall, seeing that it's still early in the morning. I know I should get up and start my day, but I can't seem to find the motivation to move. My thoughts are consumed by Y/n, and nothing else.

I think about the fight we had after the party, and how my jealousy got the best of me. I know I acted like a jerk, but I couldn't stand the sight of seeing Y/n with another guy. I don't understand why I feel so possessive and protective of her, but I can't ignore the emotions stirring up inside me.

He groans and sits up in his bed, running his hands through his hair. He knows he can’t stay in bed all day, no matter how much he wants to. He has responsibilities and things to do, but he can’t bring himself to care about them right now. All he can think about is Y/n.

Oscar contemplates getting up and going for a run, but even that doesn’t have appeal to him. He just wants to lay in bed and wallow in his thoughts. But he knows that won’t solve anything, so he forces himself to get up and head to the bathroom to take a shower.

The water runs over his body, and he hopes it will wash away some of his restless thoughts. But as he stands there under the spray, his mind automatically drifts back to Y/n and the kiss. The memory of her body against his, her lips on his, is all he can think about.

He sighs, frustrated by his inability to clear his mind. He tries to focus on the simple tasks of washing and rinsing his body, but his mind keeps wandering. He knows he needs to talk to Y’n and figure out what’s going on between them, but he’s scared.

He shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry off. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, noticing the tension in his features. He knows he needs to face Y/n, but he doesn’t know how to start the conversation.

He dresses himself, trying to ignore the way his stomach is still tangled up in knots. He doesn’t know what to expect when he sees Y/n again, and that uncertainty is making him feel anxious and on edge.

Oscar makes his way downstairs, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Y/n. He enters the kitchen and spots her at the breakfast table with her parents. He stands there for a moment, watching her unnoticed.

He takes a moment to look at her, taking in her tired yet beautiful face. He can see the dark circles under her eyes, and he wonders if she didn't sleep well either. He feels a pang of guilt for the part he played in her sleepless night.

He clears his throat to announce his presence, and Y/n looks up at him. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, they just stare at each other in silence. The air between them is thick with tension and unspoken words.

Her parents look between them, noticing the awkward vibe and sensing that something is off. "Good morning, Oscar," her dad greets, breaking the silence.

"Good morning," Oscar responds instinctively, but his eyes are still locked onto Y/n. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, and he can feel his palms starting to sweat.

Y/n shifts in her seat, avoiding his gaze. She feels uneasy and awkward, not knowing what to say to him. The memory of their kiss still hangs heavy in her and his presence makes it all feel more real.

There's a moment of uncomfortable silence between the two of them, and Oscar can feel the tension grow with each passing second. He wants to say something, anything, but the words just wont come out. He knows he needs to talk to Y/n, alone, without her parents around

After what feels like an eternity, Y/n's mom breaks the tension by asking if he wants to join them for breakfast. "There's plenty of food," she offers, gesturing to the table.

Oscar hesitates for a moment, looking at Y/n, who still won't meet his gaze. He's torn between wanting to stay and talk to her privately and not wanting to make the situation even more awkward in front of her parents.

Before he can make a decision, Y/n stands up abruptly. "I'm not that hungry," she mutters, pushing her chair back. "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit."

Her parents look at her in surprise, not expecting her to cut breakfast short so abruptly. They exchange a concerned look before turning their attention back to Oscar. "Is everything okay?" her dad asks, directing the question to him.

Oscar feels caught off guard, and he stutters for a moment before responding. "Huh? Oh, yeah, everything's fine," he lies, trying to sound casual. He can tell her parents are sensing the tension between them, but he's not willing to share the details with them.

Oscar feels trapped. He can't explain to her parents what's going on, but he also can't dismiss their concern entirely. "We just had a little misunderstanding," he says vaguely, trying to deflect their suspicions.

Her mom looks at him skeptically, still not fully convinced. "But everything's okay now, right?" she asks, concern etched on her face.

Oscar nods, trying to sound reassuring. "Yeah, everything's fine. We'll work it out." He stands there awkwardly, not sure what else to say or how to end this conversation without raising more suspicions.

Y/n stands by the stairs, listening intently to the conversation between her parents and Oscar. She feels a mix of relief and disappointment when Oscar says that everything is fine. She knows he's lying, and she can tell that her parents are skeptical too. She listens as they continue to chat, feeling more and more frustrated and confused. But soon, the conversation comes to an end and she quickly makes her way up the stairs and into her bedroom.

She closes the door and locks it behind her, sighing heavily. She can't believe that Oscar would lie to her parents like that, and she's frustrated that he refuses to talk to her about their situation. She paces around her room, feeling restless and agitated.

She wants to confront him, to demand answers and clarity. But she doesn't know how to approach him without making things even more awkward. She's also afraid of what he might say or how he might react. She sits down on her bed, still feeling exhausted and emotional, and she buries her face in her hands.

Her mind is racing with thoughts and questions. What does he really feel for her? Why did he kiss her if he's just going to act like nothing happened? Why won't he talk to her and figure things out? She feels frustrated and hopeless, not knowing how to move forward.

For a while, she just sits there, lost in thought and emotion. She feels torn between wanting to talk to him and avoiding him altogether. She doesn’t know how to handle the situation or what to do next. She feels stuck and overwhelmed, not knowing which way to turn.

As she continues to sit there, she hears footsteps outside her bedroom. She freezes, her heart racing. Is it Oscar? Is he coming to talk to her? She waits anxiously, listening intently for any sound that might indicate what's happening on the other of the door.

But nothing happens. The footsteps fade away and all is quiet again. Y/n feels a mixture of relief and disappointment. She's relieved that she didn't have to face him just yet, but she's also disappointed that he didn't come to talk. She's torn between wanting him to talk and wanting him to stay away.

She looks around her room, feeling a sense of restlessness and agitation, She can't sit still, and can't shake the thoughts and emotions swirling in her mind. She gets up from her bed and paces around the room, feeling like a caged animal.

Y/n, feeling frustrated and overwhelmed, decides that she needs to do something to relax herself. She decides to take a bubble bath, hoping that the warm water and soothing scent of the bubbles will help clear her mind. She goes to her bathroom and starts filling up the tub with warm water.

As the tub fills up, she adds a generous amount of bubble batch solution, watching as the water turns into a milky, frothy mixture. She tests the water with her fingertips, making sure it's not too hot or too cold.

Y/n takes off her bathrobe and carefully steps into the tub. The warm water envelops her body and she lets out a sigh of relief. The smell of the bubble bath fills her nostrils and she feels a sense of comfort wash over her.

She closes her eyes and leans back against the tub, letting the water and bubbles work their magic. The sound of the water and the scent of the bubble bath begin to soothe her mind and calm her emotions.

She spends some time just soaking in the bath, enjoying the feeling of the water on her skin and the peace it brings her. The stress and tension start to melt away, and she feels her body and mind slowly relaxing.

She spends the next several minutes just relaxing in the tub, letting the warm water and soothing scents wash away her frustration and worry. She takes deep breaths, inhaling the scent of the bubble bath, and feels herself start to let go of the negative emotions that have been weighing her down.

Gradually, her body and mind start to feel lighter and more relaxed. The tension in her muscles begins to ease, and her mind feels less chaotic. She starts to feel drowsy, and her thoughts begin to slow.

She lets herself sink down into the water, immersing herself in the warm, soothing embrace of the tub. She starts to feel like she’s floating, her thoughts drifting away with each moment of relaxation.

She just lies there, floating in the tub, feeling completely at ease. The water surrounds her and the bubbles encase her, enveloping her in a warm, comforting embrace. Her mind is blissfully empty, and she feels like she could just stay here forever.

After a while, Y/n feels like she's been in the tub for quite some time. She's feeling relaxed and refreshed, but she can tell that the water is starting to cool down. She also knows that she can't stay in the tub forever. With a sigh, decides that it's time to get out.

She sits up in the tub, feeling the water and bubbles slide off her body. She takes a moment to gather her bearings, feeling a momentary dizziness from sitting in the hot water for so long. She stands up, feeling a bit unsteady on her legs, and steps out of the tub.

She grabs a towel from the towel rack and wraps it around herself, feeling the warmth of the fabric against her skin. She feels a bit cold as she's no longer surrounded by water, and she shivers slightly from the sudden change in temperature.

Y/n dries herself off, feeling the towel soak up the water that still clung to her skin. She feels a sense of comfort and cleanliness, knowing that she's taken the time to pamper herself and relax.

She then looks at her reflection in the mirror, taking in her relaxed and refreshed appearance. She notices that the dark circles around her eyes have faded slightly, and she looks less tired and more rejuvenated.

After getting out of the tub and drying off, Y/n heads back to her bedroom and changes into a fresh pair of clothes. She selects something comfortable and casual, still feeling relaxed and refreshed from her bubble bath. As she gets dressed, she can feel her body and mind feeling more rested and at ease.

Y/n turns on her laptop and opens up a movie-streaming website. After scrolling through the selection for a bit, she picks out a movie that looks interesting, something lighthearted and entertaining. She settles onto her bed, propping up a pillow behind her back, and starts playing the movie.

yn.jpg • Just Now Sixpence None The Richer • Kiss Me

Y/n watches the movie intently, invested in the characters and storyline. By the time the movie ends, she feels like she’s been transported into another world, feeling a sense of satisfaction and immersion. As the credits roll, she stretches her limbs and turns off the laptop, feeling satisfied and entertained.

She looks at the clock on her bedside table and realizes that it’s already lunchtime. She feels a pang of hunger and decides that it’s time to head downstairs for lunch. She gets off her bed and stretches once more, feeling rejuvenated and relaxed after her bubble bath and movie.

She heads out of her room and down the stairs, making her way to the kitchen where her family is likely to be gathering for lunch. As she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she can already hear the sounds of her family talking and moving around in the kitchen.

She makes her way into the kitchen and sees her family setting the table and preparing lunch. Her parents wave at her and gesture for her to sit down. "Just in time for lunch," her dad says with a smile.

Y/n looks around the room and realizes that Oscar is nowhere to be seen. She feels a pang of disappointment and anxiety, wondering where he is and why he hasn’t come down for lunch.

She takes a seat at the table, trying to act casual and nonchalant, despite the fact that she’s feeling concerned and uneasy. Her parents seem to notice her gaze wandering around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of Oscar, but they don’t say anything.

Y/n sits beside his sister, May, and leans in close to her. She whispers in her ear, her voice low so that their parents can’t hear. "Hey, do you know where Oscar is? I thought he’d be here for lunch."

May looks at Y/n, knowing exactly why she’s asking. "Oh, he went for a run," she replies quietly. "He said he needed to clear his head and get some fresh air."

Y/n nods, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. She’s relieved to know that he’s not avoiding her or anything like that but disappointed that he isn’t here right now. She sighs inwardly and turns her attention back to the lunch that’s being served.

Her family continues chatting and enjoying their lunch, not noticing Y/n’s distracted and preoccupied state. She tries to focus on the food and conversation but her mind keeps wandering to Oscar and what he’s doing and thinking. She steals glances at the door, hoping that he might come in any moment.

As the lunch progresses, she finds herself getting more and more anxious. She starts to wonder why he didn’t come back for lunch and what he’s thinking. She tries her best to hide her feelings but she knows that her parents are starting to notice her preoccupation.

Her mom looks at her, a concerned expression on her face. "Are you feeling alright, sweetie? You seem a bit distracted," she asks.

Y/n jolts out of her thoughts and looks at her mom, feeling guilty for not paying attention. She nods, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, I’m fine, just a little out of it today, I guess," she replies, trying to sound convincing.

The rest of the lunch is a blur for Y/n. She barely touches her food, her mind and thoughts preoccupied with thoughts of Oscar. She tries to participate in the conversation but finds herself zoning out frequently. As lunch draws to an end, she feels more anxious and restless than ever.

Once everyone is finished with their lunch and begins to clear the table, Y/n gets up from her seat, still feeling restless and anxious. She doesn’t know what to do with herself and feels like she needs to do something to distract herself.

She decides to head back to her room, hoping that some time alone will calm her thoughts and emotions. As she walks up the stairs to her room, she looks out the window, hoping to see Oscar returning from his run, but the driveway is empty.

She feels disappointed and frustrated, feeling like time is dragging on slowly. She wants to see him, to talk to him, to resolve their situation, but she doesn’t know how to do that when he’s not even here.

Sunday, 12:04 AM

It's late, and Y/n finds herself unable to sleep yet again. She tosses and turns for a while, trying to fall asleep but her thoughts and anxieties keep her wide awake.

After a while, she decides that she needs something to distract herself. She slowly gets out of bed, trying to not make too much noise, and heads downstairs towards the kitchen.

Y/n makes her way to the kitchen and heads straight for the fridge. She opens it and looks through the shelves, searching for any snacks. Her mouth waters as she imagines the deliciousness of any snack she'll find.

She rummages through the fridge, moving aside containers and tupperware, until she finds what she was looking for - a container with some leftover thumbprint cookies. She grins to herself feeling happy and comforted by the sight of them. She takes the container out of the fridge and closes the door, moving towards the counter.

As Y/n places the container of cookies on the counter, she is interrupted by a noise coming from outside, near the pool. She freezes, her heart skipping a beat. Is someone outside?

Y/n picks up a broom from the corner of the kitchen, holding it like a weapon. With the broom in one hand and a cookie in her mouth, she slowly makes her way outside, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

As she steps outside, the night air is cool against her skin and the sound of crickets fills the air. She looks around, her eyes darting from side to side, trying to find the source of the noise. She slowly walks towards the pool area, broom raised and cookie half eaten in her mouth.

Y/n's heart leaps as she sees Oscar sitting by the pool, his feet dangling in the water, a cigarette perched between his lips. For a moment, she stands there, broom in hand, staring at him.

She feels a mix of relief and surprise seeing him, especially given the situation they're in. She looks at him for a moment, watching as he takes a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling up into the night air.

After a few seconds, she realizes that she's just standing there staring and quickly shakes herself out of her daze. She lowers the broom and takes a few steps towards him, still holding the cookie in her mouth.

She doesn't say anything, just stands there watching him, feeling a million emotions running through her. She feels a mixture of anger, confusion, and happiness, but also a pang of attraction to him, despite everything that had happened between them.

Y/n finally finds her voice and musters up the courage to say something, breaking the silence between them. "I didn't know you smoked," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

She watches as he takes another drag of his cigarette, the red embers lighting up his face in the dark. She's not sure what to make of this new side of him, seeing him with a cigarette between his lips seems oddly attractive but also concerning to her.

She takes a few steps closer, her eyes never leaving him, still clutching the broom in one hand and the half-eaten cookie in the other. She feels a mixture of awkwardness and familiarity, not sure how to act around him right now.

Y/n

The only sound between us is the occasional crackle of the cigarette and the distant chirping of crickets. I feel a hundred different emotions running through me as I stand here, watching him smoke waiting for him to say something, anything.

Finally, feeling fed up by the silence and tension between us, I decided to break the silence again. "So, are you just gonna smoke out here all night?" I ask, my tone slightly sarcastic.

I watch him as he takes another drag of her cigarette, blowing out a plume of smoke into the air. He turns his head and looks at me, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"Nope, I plan on going back in soon," he replies, his voice casual. "Just needed some air."

I roll my eyes, sitting beside him, dipping my feet into the cold pool water. "By air, do you mean smoke?" I repeat his words, my tone laced with playful sarcasm.

"Yeah, something like that," he replies, his smirk only growing wider. He takes another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke slowly escape from his lips.

Oscar takes out another cigarette from his pack and offers it to me. "You want one?" he asks, holding the cigarette out for me to take.

I let out a small laugh and took the cigarette from his hand. "How sweet of you," I tease, my voice low. "You're just so kind, offering me a cigarette."

Oscar laughs and replies, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Well, Mom did tell me to share my blessings," he says, a hint of humor in his voice.

I laugh and retort, my tone still teasing. "I'm pretty sure Aunty Nicole meant anything but cigarettes," I reply with a playful smile on my face.

I look at the cigarette in my hand and realize that I don't have a lighter. I turn to Oscar and ask him. "Hey, can I borrow your lighter?" I say, putting the cigarette on my lips.

Instead of handing her the lighter, Oscar moves closer to her, holding the lit lighter up to her cigarette. He sits, looking directly at her, his eyes meeting hers as he lights her cigarette for her, his hand cupped over the flame to shield it from the wind.

Y/n lets out a small gasp, feeling a jolt of electricity run through her as he lights her cigarette, his hand so close to her face. She holds his gaze, caught off guard by his proximity and gesture.

She can feel his breath on her face, the smoke from her newly lit cigarette swirling around them. She swallows, her heart beating wildly in her chest, unsure of how to react to the sudden intimacy between them.

Y/n lets out a shaky breath and turns away, feeling the familiar sense of awkwardness between them. She takes a shaky drag from her cigarette, trying to calm her racing heart. She avoids his gaze, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

Oscar breaks the silence, his voice hesitant. "So, uhm... About that- that kiss..." he begins, stuttering through his words. He looks at her, his expression serious, the cigarette in his hand forgotten for the moment.

Y/n feels her heart skip a beat as he mentions the kiss. She was hoping he wouldn't bring it up, but she knew he would eventually. She turns to face him, meeting his gaze, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

She doesn't say anything, just waits for him to continue, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She takes another drag on her cigarette, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

Oscar hesitates for a moment, his eyes locked on hers, as if searching for something. He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I... I didn't mean for it to happen- not like that at least," he finally says, his voice low and earnest.

Y/n listens to him, her heart in her throat. She can see the sincerity in his eyes, and the regret in his expression. She wants to say something, but her throat feels dry and the words won't come.

He continues, his voice barely above a whisper now. "I don't know what came over me," he says, his fingers fidgeting with the cigarette in his hand. "I just... I couldn't help myself."

Y/n feels a pang of emotion in her chest as he speaks, her heart melting slightly at his words. She can see the struggle in his eyes, the conflict he’s feeling about what had happened between them.

She looks at him, her expression a mix of confusion and understanding. She doesn’t know what to say or how to react. She takes another drag on her cigarette, the smoke swirling around them in the cool night air.

The silence between them stretches out, only interrupted by the distant croaking of the frogs and the faint sounds of traffic from far away. Both of them are lost in their own thoughts, words left unsaid lingering in the air.

Oscar looks at Y/n, his expression pleading for her to say something, anything. "Please, say something," he says, his voice desperate. "Even if it's swearing me out. Just…just say something."

Y’n looks at him, her expression softening as a small smile forms on her lips. "It's okay," she says softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I understand. It's okay."

She can see the relief that floods his features, his body visibly relaxing as he takes in her words. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"You…you understand?" he asks, his voice filled with disbelief. "You're not angry?"

Y/n nods, her expression a mixture of understanding and forgiveness. "I was angry at first," she admits. "Especially after the fight." She takes a drag on her cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly.

"But... I understand now," she continues, looking at him with a soft expression. "it happened, and we can't take it back. And I... I don't want to be angry at you forever."

Y/n gathers her courage and looks directly at him, her eyes meeting his. "Oscar," she says, her voice steady but soft, "What... what did that kiss mean to you?"

Oscar looks at her, his expression conflicted. He lets out a heavy breath, his eyes dropping to the bottom of the pool for a moment. "I..." he begins, his voice trailing off. He hesitates, clearly struggling to find the words.

His fingers fidget with the cigarette in his hand, his nervous energy palpable. "It…it was a mistake," he finally says, his voice quiet. "A stupid, impulsive mistake."

Oscar looks up at her, his eyes meeting hers, a mixture of guilt and determination in them. "But…but it's also the one mistake I don't regret," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

Oscar looks at her, his expression serious and sincere. "I…I love you," he says, his voice firm. "I think I've loved you for a long time, I just didn't realize it until we kissed."

Oscar looks at her, his eyes filled with affection. "I love everything about you," he says, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. "Your smile, your laugh, your eyes, the way you light up a room when you walk in. I love the way you always know how to make me feel better when I'm down, and how you're not afraid to call me out when I'm being an ass."

He continues, his words pouring out of him like a flood. "I love the way you always smell like vanilla, and how your hair looks when it's messy first thing in the morning. I love the way you sing to yourself when you think no one's listening."

He takes a step closer to her, his gaze unwavering. "I love everything about you…your stubbornness, your kindness, your honesty, your strength…." he trails off, his voice filled with emotion. He reaches out and touches her cheek gently with his fingers, his touch light, almost reverent.

Oscar looks at her, his expression filled with remorse. "I'm sorry for not noticing it earlier," he says, his voice earnest. "For not realizing how I truly felt about you until now. I was a fool, Y/n. I was blind to what was right in front of me."

He smiles softly, his eyes filled with nostalgia. "You know, the first time we met, I could tell that you were a good soul. There was something about you that just…called to me, even though we had just met," he says. "But I didn't want to make my mind up yet. I wanted to get to know you better before I decided how I felt."

Oscar chuckles softly. "I was so awkward around you at first," he admits, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I didn't know how to talk to you. I wasn't sure how to act or what to say. You intimidated me, and I was scared of saying the wrong thing and screwing things up."

Oscar is in the middle of speaking when suddenly, he's cut off by the feeling of Y/n's lips on his. He's taken aback for a moment, shocked by the suddenness of the kiss. But soon, he melts into it, his worries fading away as he returns the kiss.

Y/n

I smirk playfully as Oscar pulls back. I teasingly say, "I get it Oscar. You like me." I grin at his dumbfounded expression, amused by how flustered he looks.

"You can stop gushing about all the things you like about me now," I say, poking him playfully in the chest. "I think I get the picture."

Oscar blushes, his expression sheepish. "Oh, shut up," he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "I can't help it. I just…I just really like you, Y/n."

I roll my eyes but smile, not able to keep up the teasing act. "You're such a sap," she says affectionately, lightly punching him in the arm.

Oscar laughs and pretends to rub his arm like it's wounded. "Hey, watch it," he says, pretending to pout. "I'm a sensitive guy, I can't handle your tough love."

I laugh, my expression softening as I look at him. "Oh, please," I say. "You can handle anything I throw at you, you big baby."

Oscar feigns offended. "Big baby? Who are you calling a big baby?" he says, his pout growing comically more exaggerated.

The two of them are in the middle of their playful banter when suddenly, it starts to rain. The raindrops begin to fall around them, pattering softly against the ground and the windows of the house behind them.

Oscar looks up at the sky, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, that escalated quickly," he says, watching as the rain starts to pick up.

Oscar quickly gathers his belongings, pocketing his lighter and putting away his cigarettes. Then, he grabs Y/n's arm and drags her lightly into the kitchen, both of them suppressing giggles as they go. The rain is now coming down harder, pelting against the windows and the house's roof.

They find themselves in the kitchen, the rain pouring outside creating a soft background noise. Y'n glances at the counter and remembers the cookies she left there earlier.

"Oh, right," she says, walking over to the counter. "I almost forgot about these."

Oscar watches as Y/n picks up the cookies, his expression softening as he looks at her. He's been struck by the way she looks in the dim light of the kitchen, her hair slightly tousled and her eyes shining.

Oscar looks at the clock on the wall and sees that it's almost twelve-thirty. He turns to Y/n and says, "We probably should go upstairs. It's getting late and the rain isn't getting any lighter."

Y/n agrees and the two of them walk side by side, slowly making their way up the stairs. The soft sound of their footsteps echo through the quiet house, broken only by the muffled sound of the rain outside.

They reach the top of the stairs and find themselves in front of their respective rooms. Oscar looks at Y/n, a soft smile on his face. “Well, goodnight,” he says, reaching for the doorknob to his room.

Y/n turns to face him, her expression mirroring his. "Goodnight, Oscar," she replies, her voice soft. She reaches for her own doorknob, a small smile on her lips.

Oscar hesitates for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. He wants to say something, but the words don’t seem to come out. Instead, he gives her one last smile, his eyes reflecting the same feelings he had expressed earlier by the pool.

Y/n enters her room, closing the door behind her. She walks over to her bed, the rain still falling softly outside the window and lays down. She can still feel the remnants of the butterflies from earlier, and a warm, fluttery feeling in her chest.

Y/n lays in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, the smile still on her face. After a few minutes, she starts to feel restless and the thought of Oscar comes to her mind. She debates with herself for a moment but eventually decides to get up and knock on Oscar’s door.

Oscar opens the door, a puzzled expression on his face. He was already in his sweatpants and a t-shirt, getting ready to go to bed. He looks at Y/n, surprised to see her standing there.

She pushes his door open further and steps forward, pressing her lips against Oscar's in a sudden, impulsive kiss. Oscar is caught off guard for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise. But then, he melts into the kiss, his hands coming up to cradle her face as he kisses her back.

Y/n keeps pushing him backward into his room, not breaking the kiss. Oscar stumbles slightly, but he allows her to lead him deeper into the room, his hands moving to her waist to steady himself.

She kicks the door closed behind her, the soft thud echoing through the quiet room. They're now standing in the middle of the room, still tangled in each other's embrace, their kiss growing deeper and more passionate.

Oscar breaks the kiss, slightly panting, a smile on his lips. He looks at her, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "Not that I’m complaining or anything," he says, his voice slightly hoarse, “but what's with the sudden kiss?”

Y/n looks at him, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of desire and affection. She reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair, her touch gentle. "I just couldn't help myself," she says, her voice low and sultry. "I needed to feel your lips on mine again.

Oscar's eyes flutter shut at her touch, his breath hitching in his throat. He leans into her touch, a soft moan escaping his lips. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he says, his voice husky.

Y/n grins at his reaction, her fingers continuing to play with his hair. "That's the plan," she replies, her tone playful. She steps closer to him, her body pressing against his.

Oscar's voice is low and sultry, his eyes fixed on hers. He steps closer to her, their bodies almost flush together. "Lie down for me, baby," he says, his words a soft command.

Y/n feels a shiver run down her spine at his words, her skin prickling with desire. Without protest, she slowly moves to his bed and lays down on her back, her eyes never leaving his.

Oscar watches her as she moves to his bed, his gaze roaming over her body hungrily. He follows her, crawling onto the bed and positioning himself over her, his body hovering just above hers, his arms supporting his weight.

Oscar feels her hands running through his hair and smiles against her skin. He continues to nibble and kiss her neck, his hands beginning to wander over her body, exploring her curves. Y/n's soft moans and whimpers only fuel his desire, his touch becoming more possessive, more urgent.

His hands move to her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. He lifts his head, his breath hot against her ear. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispers, his voice gruff. "All mine."

Oscar's hands move under her shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of Y/n's waist before they settle on her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples, causing her to arch into his touch. The once soft tender kisses deepened, their tongues dancing in a passionate exchange.

Slowly, Oscar broke the kiss, letting his mouth travel down Y/n's neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he went. Her breath hitched as his lips reached her breasts, his tongue flicking at her nipples, making her gasp. Her back arches off the bed, offering herself to him, wanting more.

Oscar's hands slid down her body, his fingers hooking onto the waistband of her shorts and panties. With a gentle tug, he pulled them off, revealing her swollen, wet cunt. His eyes locked on her, desire burning in their depths, before he dipped his head, his tongue tracing the outline of her folds.

Y/n's hands clutched the sheets as Oscar began to lavish attention on her, his tongue delving inside her, his fingers tracing circles around her clit. The pleasure built a slow, seductive burn that her writhing beneath him.

Her hips bucked, seeking more of his touch, her moans filling the room. Oscar's lips and tongue explored every inch of her, each lick, each suck, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

Her breaths grew ragged, her body tensing, the pleasure building to a crescendo. Oscar's name was a whispered plea on her lips, her back arching off the bed, her body trembling as her climax crashed over her. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, her inner muscles clenching around Oscar's tongue as he continued to pleasure her, not relenting until the last shudder subsided.

Oscar, still on his knees between Y/n's legs, took a moment to savor the sight of her flushed cheeks, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. He could see the glistening evidence of his efforts on her inner thighs.

As he looked up at her, Y/n's gaze met his, her eyes filled with desire and a hint of mischief. She reached down, her fingers tracing the outline of the wet spot on Oscar's grey sweatpants, a small smile playing on her lips.

Oscar grinned, his eyes dark with lust, before he stood, hands reaching for the hem of his sweatpants. He pulled them down, his erection springing free, slick with pre-cum.

Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the sight, her hand reaching out to stroke Oscar's cock, her fingers coated with the evidence of his arousal. Oscar groaned, his head falling back as he savored the sensation.

With a seductive grin, Y/n pulled him down, urging him to her on the bed. Oscar complied, his body settling between hers. He positioned himself at her entrance, their eyes locked, sharing a silent moment of consent before he entered her, their bodies joining into one.

Y/n's back arched, meeting Oscar's thrusts with a fervor that matched his own. The bed creaked under their weight, the mattress shifting with each movement.

Echoes of their moans and gasps filled the room, the sound of their lovemaking bouncing off the walls. Sweat glistened on their bodies as they moved together, skin slapping against skin.

Y/n's nails dug into Oscar's back, her legs trembling as the pleasure built within her. The room around them faded, their world reduced to the sensation of their bodies, the taste of their kisses.

Abandoning all restraint, his thrusts grew more urgent, his hips slamming into Y/n's with each powerful stroke. The headboard banged against the wall, the sound adding to their moans.

Her nails dug deeper into Oscar's back, leaving scratch marks as her orgasm neared. Her body tensed, her inner muscles clenching around his cock. The room filled with cries of pleasure as her climax crashed over her.

Feeling Y/n's body quiver around him, Oscar couldn't hold back any longer. His own release followed swiftly, his body tensing as he filled her completely. They lay there, panting their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison.

As their breathing steadied, Oscar pulled her closer, their bodies still joined, the scent of sex surrounding them.

Y/n wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She starts to kiss his neck, lips light and gentle, a stark contrast to the passionate frenzy from before. Her body is still pressed close to his, her bare skin against his.

Oscar melts under her touch, his eyes fluttering shut, a small moan escaping his lips. He wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on her abdomen. He tilts his head to give her better access to his neck, his skin burning wherever her skin touches his.

Her kisses are soft and slow, a gentle caress on his skin. She can feel his body relax under her touch, his breath becoming steadier as he lets himself bask in the aftermath of their encounter. Y/n moves her lips from his neck, trailing kisses along his jaw and up to his ear.

Oscar gets up from the bed and walks over to his closet. He rummages through his clothes and pulls out a clean shirt. He looks back at Y/n, who is lying on the bed, her eyes half-closed and a sleepy smile on her face.

He walks back to the bed and pulls the shirt over her head, gently maneuvering her arms through the sleeves. The shirt is slightly large on her, but it looks cute, almost like a dress.

Oscar watches as she puts on the shirt, his expression softening at how cute she looks. He takes a moment to admire her before speaking up.

"You look so adorable in my shirt," he says, his voice quiet and affectionate.

Oscar lays back down beside her, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. She sighs contentedly, her head resting against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and reassuring in her ear.

Y/n was about to drift off to sleep, her eyes heavy and her body relaxed against Oscar's chest, when suddenly she sat up, her expression filled with shock. She looks at Oscar, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

Y/n looks at Oscar, her voice filled with worry. "What if my parents heard us?" she whispers, her eyes wide with concern. "Or your siblings?"

Oscar chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Relax," he says, his voice soft and comforting. "Nobody heard us. We were being quiet."

"Besides," he continues, a hint of playful teasing in his voice, "My siblings are heavy sleepers. They could sleep through a hurricane."

Y/n relaxes slightly at his words. She knows he's probably right, but she can't help the residual worry that still lingers in her mind. She looks at him, her expression a bit sheepish now. "You're sure they didn't hear us?" she asks again, her voice still hushed.

Oscar grins at her question. "I'm absolutely positive they didn't hear us," he says, his tone confident. "My siblings are like logs when they sleep. And the doors in this house are pretty thick, you know."

"Plus," he adds, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I don't think we were THAT loud. We were pretty careful." He gives her a sly smirk, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Y/n looks at him with a smirk and says, "Seriously? We weren't that loud? Have you forgotten how much the headboard was slamming against the wall just a few minutes ago?"

Oscar grins at her words, unabashedly unrepentant. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," he says, his tone light and teasing. "We were a bit noisy, but come on. Nobody heard us. They're all probably passed out by now."

As Y/n giggles, Oscar smiles at the sound. But then she gasps suddenly, causing him to look at her with concern. "What's wrong?" he asks, his brows furrowing with worry.

Y/n sits up, her eyes landing on an old stuffed animal that's sitting by the window. A look of surprise and nostalgia crosses her face. "Oh my god," she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. "I can't believe it. I thought I'd lost this stuffed animal years ago."

She reaches out and picks up the stuffed animal, holding it carefully in her hands. A smile spreads across her face as she looks at it, her fingers running over the soft and familiar fabric, the memories of her childhood rushing back to her.

Oscar watches her as she holds the stuffed animal, a small smile on his face. He sees the nostalgic look on her face and can't help but ask.

"Is that yours?" he says, his voice soft. "I mean, it was already here when I switched rooms with May."

Y/n looks up at him, her eyes still glued to the stuffed animal. "Yeah," she says, her voice filled with fondness. "It's my old stuffed animal from when I was a kid. I can't believe it's still here all this time."

Oscar reaches over and kisses her forehead gently, his lips lingering on her skin for a moment. "Cute," he murmurs, a soft smile on his face. As Y/n cuddles the stuffed animal, he watches her with a warm gaze, his hand resting on her hip.

yn.who 🔒

♫ Taylor Swift • I Can See You (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

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oscarpiastrii You're so in love with me ↳ yn.who and what about it 🤔🤔🤔

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yet-another-heathen · 4 months ago

Note

On the topic of realistic conditioning/deconditioning,

If the trigger is something whumpee wouldn't hear often when they're with caretaker but whumpee still wants to break it because they might hear it elsewhere (like kneel being taken as a command)

Would whumpee ask caretaker to casually trigger them so they have the opportunity to challenge it in their own head and in a safe place? Would this be a good idea for recovery?

And of course being there with the praise everytime whumpee makes just a little bit of progress, or comfort when they don't.

Heads up, anon: your ask was an EXCEPTIONALLY good one, and I ended up writing another mini TED talk (~3-4 min read) in response. Thank you so much for sending it in!

...on Conditioned Whumpees - Part 3

[ Part 1 - Part 2 ]

That is a very, very good idea! You're spot on with all of it, particularly operating in a safe environment where whumpee is ultimately calling the shots. Having that comfort/support readily available will make a huge difference in how well whumpee can tackle the matter. And while the process isn't fun, approaching desensitization with this much intent is much, much more likely to result in success.

I can offer a few pointers that can add another few layers of realism, as well as some other things to think about while tailoring it to your story:

if whumpee is actively working through their conditioning in this way, memories of their trauma will become closer to the surface. As a result, all of their other PTSD symptoms will be elevated during the course of their practice sessions, as well as for at least a few weeks after.

flashbacks are a very common experience during times like this. engaging with triggers like this is going to cause their flashbacks to become more frequent and intense.

during such flashbacks, it is almost a given that whumpee's mind and body will enter a similar state to the one it was in during the time when the flashback was taking place. By that I mean that the fear they felt in that moment, where it was physically located in their body, will echo into their body in the present moment. Same goes for other all other emotions, and sometimes even phantom aches surrounding any injuries they received at the time...

while the emotions tend to be identical to the ones felt during the trauma, in my experience, the pain comes out distorted in a similar way to the way it does in dreams: less intense, and more "blurry" and imprecise in location. When we say that someone having a flashback is "reliving the moment", we mean that their body literally feels as though they're in the same immediate danger that it was in back then.

this is true even though they'll be aware to at least some degree that they're presently with caretaker and safe.

the flashbacks don't always happen immediately after the conditioning trigger is used. Often they flare up hours or days later, sometimes without warning, sometimes as a result of encountering a different flashback trigger. The whumpee's thresholds for what counts as a trigger will drop, which is part of what causes the flashbacks to happen more often. Something they could normally ignore is going to affect them much more while they're like this.

your whumpee is more likely to experience severe mood swings while in this heightened state. Especially feelings like irritability, frustration, anger, loneliness, and grief. This stuff ain't pretty, folks. Even your sweet cinnamon bun is most likely going to lash out at someone as a result.

PTSD episodes are also exhausting. your whumpee is going to feel mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. And, to add insult to injury, being tired amplifies the emotions listed above.

Now all of this said, your whumpee may or may not know that this is to be expected. If they've worked on processing their trauma before this, they'll have figured out that one often leads to the other. They'll go into the deconditioning practice knowing this is coming, and will approach it carefully, but with a fairly level head. Knowing that it'll suck, but they'll come out the other side okay.

If not, they're in for a rather nasty surprise.

For the latter, they will feel at first that the deconditioning practice is making everything worse. They're suddenly struggling the way they did when the trauma was fresher, and it can be tempting to stop and refuse to touch it again because the mental/emotional pain gets so intense.

If they do give up at this stage, it will make trying again far more daunting in the future.

But the trauma being stirred up is actually a sign that it's helping. It means that the whumpee is starting to process what happened to them, which is a fundamental step in being able to heal.

Note: All throughout the process, crying is a very good thing. It lets them physically get rid of a lot of the brain chemicals associated with these surges of emotion. Letting themselves cry over things they couldn't cry about back then can actually help them let go of those feelings in a similar way to if they'd been able to process them in the moment. [Which is the basis for much of EMDR, a specialized tool used in trauma therapy.]

Okay. So now we know what other effects can cascade from the actual deconditioning practice, now we have some things to consider.

First off, what time parameters are whumpee and caretaker working within while deconditioning? There are three basic options:

they sit down together and practice repeatedly using the trigger for [X amount of time; usually <45m at once] back to back. Once that time is up, caretaker will no longer use the trigger at all, the excercise will end, and they'll get up to do something else.

whumpee sets a specific window of time [X number of hours] within which caretaker will use the trigger word at random points. Once that time has elapsed, the exercise is over.

over the course of days, caretaker uses the trigger word at random points without giving warning. the excercise only stops after being ended by whumpee.

Now why is that important? Because of something called hypervigilance. It is another symptom of PTSD which, to put it into the simplest words, is whumpee waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's a heightened state of tension and wariness in which whumpee is expecting that something bad is going to happen, and is constantly searching for any sign to indicate when it's coming.

It is beyond exhausting.

Imagine knowing that someone is about to slap you as hard as they can, and you have to sit there with your eyes closed, waiting for it. The breath-holding, the flinchiness, the rigid tension in your body as you strain to listen for when they're coming.

Only now, stretch that moment out into hours. Days. Weeks. That is hypervigilance.

A hypervigilant whumpee is not going to be able to relax. Or rest. Or decompress. Or readily trust much of anything around them. They're MUCH more likely to flinch at sudden movements/sounds. They might start biting their nails or showing other signs of nervousness and distress.

These methods above have a gradually increasing chance of setting off whumpee's hypervigilance. If they know exactly when the next trigger is coming, as in example 1, then their 'waiting for it' tension will be low. But the more uncertain they become of exactly when it's going to happen, as in examples 2 & 3, the worse the hypervigilance is going to get.

The trade off is that the later examples are more effective in desensitizing them toward the trigger. The more their practice mimics encountering an unexpected trigger in day-to-day life, the easier it will be to fall back on that desensitization when the time comes.

Therefore, it would be a very good idea for a whumpee who's new to this to start with number 1, then gradually progress to 2 & 3 as time goes on. They should be the one to decide when the next step is made, and if/when they need to dial it back.

Other questions to ask yourself while plotting:

how mentally prepared is whumpee for worsening symptoms? what about caretaker? did either of them know it was coming?

how much of this heightened PTSD stress can your whumpee take before it becomes too much? how do they react when they do hit that tipping point?

if caretaker feels that whumpee is getting too distressed during practice even though they're not tapping out, would they call it off themself? Or would they ultimately leave that decision to whumpee?

based on the answer, how would whumpee feel about caretaker's decision? Relieved? Belittled? Betrayed?

does whumpee have any grounding tools they can use while practicing?

how does caretaker handle the mood swings and instability that come with whumpee's heightened PTSD? You should consider both their internal and external reactions on the matter.

how does whumpee prefer to decompress after a practice session? what things would help them calm down and recover?

how long do they need (hours or days) before the next attempt?

Even with all I've just written, there's far more to the resulting hightened state of PTSD than flashbacks and hypervigilance. PTSD symptoms that they're most likely to encounter in the background while doing deconditioning practice include:

Flinchiness, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, exhaustion, emotional mood swings, outbursts, crying spells, depression, executive dysfunction, dissociation, numbness, racing thoughts, freeze responses, tremors, inappetence, muscle tension, and heart palpitations.

Yes, usually many of them at once, even those that contradict. Your whumpee is going to have a LOT going on at once, and it is not going to be a fun time. I recommend looking up any of the above symptoms you don't recognize, and looking for whump inspiration in what you learn.

(Because everyone experiences PTSD episodes differently, there's a lot of wiggle room in which ones whumpee will encounter. Don't feel pressured to use all of them, find what you want to write and have fun with it!)

Thanks again for the incredible ask, anon. And again, I want to congratulate you on how spot-on your original ask was. You nailed it. I know this was a lot more than you asked for, but I hope this provides helpful context for your whump! My inbox will always be open if you think of anything more <3

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thunderbump · 4 months ago

Text

Home school Home birth

Note: this is the first story to be written based on an idea i was sent! If you anyone has anymore no guarantee I’ll do them but feel free to send me them!

Emma sat perched on her birthing ball, rocking slowly in a rhythmic motion as she tried to ease the relentless pressure in her back. The twins were getting heavier every day, pressing down on her pelvis with an intensity she hadn’t felt with her previous pregnancies. She was enormous now, her belly swollen and round, and every movement felt like an effort. But she tried not to let it show in front of the kids.

Lily and Ben sat at the kitchen table, books and papers spread out before them as they worked through their homeschool lessons. They were so used to this new routine now—Emma managing their schooling while keeping her mind focused on the impending arrival of the twins—that they barely noticed when she winced or shifted uncomfortably. It was just part of the day.

Still, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up the act. The twins felt like they were ready to burst out at any moment, and her body was exhausted. She exhaled slowly, adjusting her position on the ball, and glanced at the clock. James wouldn’t be home for several more hours, and she prayed she could make it until then.

“Mom?” Ben called, his small voice cutting through her thoughts. He had abandoned his reading book and was looking at her with those wide, curious eyes that always made her heart melt. “Can you help me find my red dinosaur? I lost it under the couch.”

Emma groaned inwardly. The last thing she wanted to do was crawl around on the floor right now, but Ben was already sliding off his chair, hopeful.

“Sweetheart,” she began, her voice tired, “I’m not sure I can get down there right now. Can you check for it yourself?”

Ben’s face fell. “But I can’t reach. Please, Mom?”

She sighed, rubbing her belly. “Alright, let me try.” Slowly, Emma rolled off the birthing ball, her body protesting every inch of the way. As soon as she stood, the weight of the twins bore down on her pelvis like a leaden mass. She huffed out a breath and waddled over to the couch, trying to ignore how tight her belly was feeling.

She crouched awkwardly, wincing as she knelt down to peer under the couch. A sharp pain radiated through her lower back, and she had to pause to catch her breath. The twins shifted inside her, as if reminding her of just how little space they had left. “Ben, I don’t see it,” she said, her voice strained as she struggled to reach under the couch.

Ben dropped to his knees next to her, his little hand pointing excitedly. “It’s right there, see? Just a little further back.”

Emma gritted her teeth, stretching her arm as far as she could manage. Her belly pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the couch, and she could feel sweat beading on her forehead from the effort. Finally, her fingers grazed the toy’s plastic edge, and she managed to pull it out, handing it over to Ben with a triumphant, if tired, smile.

“Got it!” she said, though her voice lacked the enthusiasm she was hoping for.

Ben’s face lit up, and he grabbed the toy, running off with a shout of “Thanks, Mom!” Emma sat back on her heels, trying to gather the energy to stand. Just as she was about to push herself up, another voice called out.

“Mom!” Lily piped up from the kitchen. “Can you help me with this math problem? I don’t understand it.”

Emma groaned softly, her hands pressing against the couch as she tried to haul herself up. Everything hurt, and the pressure in her pelvis was becoming impossible to ignore. She managed to rise, though her legs felt shaky beneath her.

“Coming, Lily,” she said, forcing herself to waddle over to the kitchen table. As soon as she sat down, she felt another tight cramp ripple through her belly. She took a deep breath, brushing it off as just another one of those Braxton Hicks contractions she’d been having for weeks. They’d come and go, teasing her, but never progressing into real labor. Still, something about today felt different.

Lily slid her workbook over, her finger pointing to a math problem. “I don’t get it. Can you explain it again?”

Emma leaned in to read the question, but as she did, another sharp tightening gripped her belly. This time, she couldn’t ignore it. She closed her eyes for a second, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach as she tried to breathe through the discomfort.

“Mom?” Lily’s voice cut through the fog of pain. “Are you okay?”

Emma opened her eyes, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, honey. Just a little… twinge. What’s the question again?”

Lily frowned but didn’t press. She pointed to the problem again, and Emma did her best to explain, though the words felt thick in her mouth. Another wave of pressure hit her lower back, and she shifted uncomfortably in the chair, trying to find a position that didn’t make her feel like she was being split in two.

“Mom, can we have a snack?” Ben called from across the room, his little dinosaur clutched in his hand.

Emma blinked, trying to focus. “Sure, buddy. Give me a second.”

She started to push herself up, but halfway to standing, she froze. A sudden, deep pop echoed inside her, like a water balloon bursting, followed by an unmistakable gush of warmth that soaked through her leggings and spilled onto the floor beneath her. Her water had broken.

For a moment, she just stood there, stunned, staring at the puddle on the floor. Her heart raced as she tried to process what was happening. No, no, no… it was too soon.

“Mom?” Lily’s voice was small, her eyes wide as she took in the sight. “What just happened?”

Emma blinked, snapping out of her daze. “My water just broke,” she said, her voice shaky. The reality of the situation hit her hard. The twins were coming. Now.

Ben ran over, his eyes bright with concern. “Mommy, are you alright?”

Emma took a shaky breath and forced a smile. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Just a little surprised, that’s all.” She grabbed the back of a chair, steadying herself as a contraction rolled through her, much stronger than the ones she’d felt earlier. “Okay, kids, listen to me,” she said, her voice firm despite the pain. “I need you to help me, alright?”

Lily was already by her side, her small hand on Emma’s arm. “What do you need, Mom?”

“Lily, can you get me my phone from the counter?” Emma said, her breath coming in short bursts as another contraction tightened her belly. Lily ran off to grab it, while Emma turned to Ben. “Ben, can you get some towels from the bathroom and bring them here?”

Ben nodded and darted toward the hallway, leaving Emma standing in the kitchen, gripping the chair as another wave of pain overtook her. The contractions were coming fast now, and she knew she didn’t have much time. Her hands trembled as she tried to breathe through the pain, focusing on keeping calm for the kids.

Lily returned with the phone, and Emma quickly dialed James’s number, her fingers shaking as she pressed the buttons. The phone rang once, twice, and then James’s voice came through the line.

“Hey, babe! How’s it going?”

“James,” Emma gasped, “my water just broke. I think I’m in labor.”

There was a pause, followed by the sound of James’s chair scraping across the floor. “What? Now? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Emma said, her voice tight with pain. “The contractions are really strong. You need to come home. Now.”

“I’m leaving right now,” James said, his voice urgent. “I’ll call an ambulance, just in case. Hang in there, Em. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Emma ended the call just as Ben ran back into the room, his arms full of towels. He looked at the puddle on the floor and back at his mom, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Is it time for the babies to come out?”

“Yes, Ben,” Emma said, her voice trembling as another contraction gripped her. “It’s time.”

She moved toward the couch, trying to lower herself onto the towels that Ben had spread out, but her legs were shaking so badly that she could barely stand. The pressure in her pelvis was unbearable, and she knew that the twins weren’t going to wait much longer.

Lily stood by her side, her hand clutching Emma’s arm.

Emma clutched the back of the couch, her body trembling as the contractions came one after another, with barely any time to rest in between. The pressure was overwhelming, and she knew they weren’t going to make it to the hospital.

Emma leaned heavily against the couch, each contraction washing over her like a tidal wave, relentless and intense. She could feel the pressure building, and with each wave, the reality of the situation sank in deeper. There was no way they would make it to the hospital in time.

“Mommy, what’s happening?” Ben’s small voice trembled with worry as he watched her.

“It’s okay, Ben. Just breathe with me, alright?” Emma gasped, trying to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos. She could see Lily’s concerned face as she moved closer, her eyes wide with fear.

“What can we do to help?” Lily asked, her voice steadying as she took on a role of determination.

Emma swallowed hard. “Just stay close and listen to me.” She gripped the edge of the couch tightly, feeling another contraction hit her. “I need you both to be brave. This is going to happen here, but we can do this together.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Ben said, his little fists clenched as he tried to appear strong.

As another contraction surged through her, Emma let out a low groan, her body tensing. “Kids, I need you to find some more towels and a blanket. We’re going to need them.”

Lily nodded and darted to the bathroom, while Ben ran to grab a blanket from the living room. Emma breathed through the pain, her vision narrowing as she focused on the task ahead. She could feel the twins shifting inside her, and it was a strange mix of anticipation and fear.

“Here, Mommy!” Lily returned with a pile of towels, her small face flushed with effort.

“Thank you, sweetie. Just lay them down here on the floor,” Emma instructed, pointing to the space beside the couch.

Ben hurried back with the blanket, his face a mix of excitement and worry. “I got it, Mommy!” he said, laying it down with exaggerated care.

“Perfect. Now I need you both to stay right here and hold my hand, okay?” Emma said, her voice firm as she felt another wave of pressure build.

“Okay, Mommy,” they chorused, taking their places beside her.

Emma leaned back against the couch, panting as the next contraction hit her. She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. “You can do this, Emma,” she whispered to herself, though the doubt crept in.

“Mommy, are you alright?” Ben asked again, his small hand gripping hers tightly.

“I’m alright, honey. Just a little more pressure,” she replied, forcing a smile.

Suddenly, she felt an intense urge to push, one that she couldn't ignore. “Kids, I need you to stay close and help me. I need you to support me.”

“Okay!” Lily said, her voice filled with determination.

Emma's body began to tense up again, and she grunted, the sound escaping her lips involuntarily. “Ohh… oh God,” she moaned, feeling the pressure build inside her.

“Mommy!” Ben exclaimed, his eyes wide as he watched her. “Are you okay? You sound… different!”

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Just working hard,” Emma replied through gritted teeth, sweat beading on her forehead.

“Do you want me to get you some water?” Lily offered, her eyes darting around as if searching for anything to help.

“No, honey, I just need to breathe,” Emma said, her breath coming in quick, short gasps. With each contraction, she let out a low groan, feeling the unmistakable urge to push intensify. “Ohh, I can feel them coming, I can feel them!”

“Mommy, are you gonna be okay?” Ben asked, worry lacing his voice.

“I will be, baby, I promise,” Emma managed to say before another contraction hit, and she let out a loud groan, her body shaking with effort. “Ahhh… it’s happening!”

“Mommy!” Lily said, gripping Emma’s arm tighter. “You’re doing it! You can do it!”

Emma focused on her children, their encouragement giving her strength. She felt the incredible pressure building, followed by a rush of warmth as she welcomed the first twin into the world.

“It’s a baby!” she gasped, tears of relief and joy streaming down her cheeks as she caught sight of her newborn.

“Is it a girl?” Ben asked, peering closely, excitement mingling with awe.

“Yes! It’s a girl!” Emma exclaimed, cradling her daughter carefully in her arms as the baby let out a soft cry.

“Mommy, you did it!” Ben cheered, his innocent excitement mingling with concern.

“We helped, too!” Lily added, her face beaming with pride.

Emma smiled, tears of joy spilling down her face as she looked at her children, who had been her rock through this incredible moment. “Yes, you did! I couldn’t have done it without you.”

But she wasn’t done yet. As the reality set in, another wave of pressure came, and Emma prepared herself for the second twin. “Ohh… here we go again!” she groaned, feeling the contractions surge through her body once more.

“Come on, Mommy! You can do it!” Ben encouraged, his small fists clenching with anticipation.

“Keep going, Mommy!” Lily echoed, her eyes fixed on Emma, filled with admiration and worry.

With determination, Emma pushed again, feeling the familiar sensation of movement within her, and with a final, powerful effort, she welcomed the second baby into the world, this one a boy.

“It’s a boy!” she gasped, cradling both babies in her arms as they cried softly.

“Mommy, you really did it!” Ben exclaimed, jumping up and down in pure joy.

“We helped!” Lily added, her face aglow with excitement.

Emma looked down at her newborns, panting as she reveled in the moment. “Welcome to the world, little ones,” she whispered, holding her babies close as her children beamed with pride.

Just then, Emma heard the distant sound of sirens approaching. Relief washed over her, knowing that James was finally on his way. But in that moment, surrounded by her two eldest and the two new lives she had just brought into the world, she felt a warmth in her heart that she had never known before.

#birth fiction #birth kink #fpreg #giving birth #labor kink #preggo kink #preggophilia #pregnant #labor #pregnancy #preggie #preg k!nk #labor and delivery

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shybluebirdninja · 5 months ago

Text

Abyss of Time

Summary: In a dystopian future where mutants are hunted, Logan, a 170-year-old warrior, meets Y/n, a 25-year-old human who helps mutants escape persecution. Drawn to her bravery, Logan becomes increasingly possessive as their bond deepens, especially when Y/n’s dedication to her cause puts her in danger. Tensions rise as Y/n grows close to another mutant in their group, testing Logan’s control and their relationship. The story comes into the complexities of love and survival in a world where danger lurks at every turn, and Logan’s possessiveness might be the only thing keeping Y/n alive.

Pairing : Logan Howlett x Female human-reader

Warning : None

The city was a maze of shadows and ruins, a twisted labyrinth where only the desperate dared to tread. Once a symbol of progress and civilization, it had crumbled under the weight of fear and hatred. The streets, once bustling with life, were now desolate, haunted by the echoes of a war that had left no corner untouched.

Y/n darted through the narrow alleyways, her breath coming in sharp bursts as she led a small group of mutants through the darkness. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but from the adrenaline that had become as familiar to her as breathing. This was her life now—running, hiding, fighting to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The group of mutants following her was a mix of ages and abilities, each one marked by the telltale signs of their genetic differences. In this world, those differences were a death sentence. The government had declared war on mutants, branding them as a threat to humanity, and had unleashed the Sentinels—soulless machines programmed to hunt and kill without mercy.

Y/n had lost count of how many mutants she had helped over the years. She didn’t do it for recognition or reward. She did it because it was right, because someone had to stand against the madness that had consumed the world. And because, deep down, she believed that mutants had as much right to live as anyone else.

As they approached an abandoned warehouse, Y/n slowed her pace, signaling for the group to stop. The warehouse was one of the many safe houses scattered throughout the city, hidden in plain sight among the ruins. It wasn’t much—just four walls and a roof—but it offered temporary refuge from the relentless hunt.

Y/n pushed open the rusted door and stepped inside, her senses on high alert. The interior was dark, lit only by the faint glow of a few battery-operated lamps. She scanned the room, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and froze when she saw a figure standing in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows.

Logan.

His presence filled the room, an unspoken threat to anyone who dared to cross him. Y/n had heard of him long before they met—stories of a man who had lived for over a century, who had fought in wars that were now the stuff of legend. But nothing could have prepared her for the reality of him. Logan was a force of nature, all raw power and barely contained rage, and yet, there was something about him that drew her in, something she couldn’t quite define.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n asked, her voice steady despite the tension thrumming in the air.

Logan stepped into the light, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “Heard you were takin’ a risky route tonight. Thought you could use some backup.”

Y/n bristled at his tone, at the implication that she couldn’t handle herself. “I’ve been doing this long before you showed up. I don’t need your help.”

Logan’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, and you’ve been lucky so far. But luck runs out, kid.”

The endearment, meant to be a casual remark, stung more than Y/n cared to admit. She wasn’t a child, and she resented being treated like one. But she also knew better than to argue with Logan when he was in this mood. Instead, she turned to the group of mutants behind her, their eyes wide with fear and exhaustion.

“Wait here,” she instructed them before turning back to Logan. “We’ll rest here for a bit, then move on.”

Logan nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’ll keep watch.”

Y/n didn’t bother to respond. She knew Logan well enough to understand that he would do what he wanted, regardless of what she said. As she moved to help the mutants settle in, she couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was different, that something was lurking just out of sight, waiting to strike.

Time passed in tense silence, the only sounds the occasional rustle of movement or the distant hum of a Sentinel patrol. Y/n tried to rest, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. She kept replaying Logan’s words in her head, the way he had looked at her, as if he was trying to protect her from something she couldn’t see.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice at her side. “Y/n?”

She turned to see one of the younger mutants, a boy no older than sixteen, standing next to her. His eyes were wide with worry, his hands trembling as he clutched a worn blanket around his shoulders.

“Are we safe here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n forced a smile, trying to reassure him even though she wasn’t entirely sure herself. “For now, yes. We’ll move again soon, just to be safe.”

The boy nodded, but the fear in his eyes didn’t fade. Y/n placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Stay close to me, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The boy nodded again, his grip on the blanket tightening. Y/n watched as he returned to the others, huddling close to an older mutant who put a protective arm around him. The sight tugged at her heart. These people had lost so much—family, friends, homes—and yet they still found the strength to keep going. It was a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, mutant or not.

Logan’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’re good with them.”

Y/n glanced over at him, surprised by the softness in his tone. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on her.

“They trust you,” he continued, his expression unreadable. “That’s not an easy thing to earn these days.”

Y/n shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “They don’t have much of a choice. It’s either trust me or risk getting caught.”

Logan pushed off the wall and walked over to her, his presence as overwhelming as ever. “It’s more than that, and you know it.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart skipping another beat at the intensity in his gaze. She had never been good at reading Logan, never quite sure what was going on behind those eyes. But right now, she could see something she hadn’t noticed before—something that made her pulse quicken.

Logan reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so unexpected, so out of character, that Y/n froze, unsure of how to react.

“You’re brave, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice rough with something she couldn’t name. “But bravery can get you killed if you’re not careful.”

Y/n swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I know the risks.”

Logan’s hand lingered for a moment before he dropped it to his side. “I’m not talkin’ about them. I’m talkin’ about you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched at the words, at the implication behind them. She had always known that Logan was protective, that he had a tendency to take on more than he should. But this felt different. This felt personal.

Before she could respond, a noise outside the warehouse caught their attention. Logan’s head snapped up, his senses immediately on high alert. Y/n tensed, her heart pounding in her chest as she strained to hear what had set him off.

The door to the warehouse creaked open, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as a figure stepped inside. For a split second, she feared it was a Sentinel, that their hiding place had been discovered. But then she recognized the newcomer and let out a sigh of relief.

It was Jake, a mutant they had picked up a few weeks ago. He was young, not much older than Y/n, with a cocky grin and a swagger that belied the horrors he had seen. Y/n had grown fond of him, his easy smile and unshakable optimism a rare comfort in a world gone mad.

“Jake,” Y/n breathed, her relief evident in her voice. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Jake grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sorry, didn’t mean to. Thought I’d check on you guys, see if you needed any help.”

Logan’s expression darkened at the sight of Jake, his posture tensing. Y/n noticed the change immediately, a knot of unease forming in her stomach.

“We’re fine,” Logan said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jake raised an eyebrow at Logan’s response but didn’t back down. “Just thought I’d offer. No harm in that, right?”

Y/n stepped between them, sensing the rising tension. “It’s okay, Jake. We’re just getting ready to move out. You can come with us if you want.”

Jake’s grin widened. “Sure thing. Lead the way, boss.”

Logan’s eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous, but he said nothing as Y/n led the group out of the warehouse. The streets were eerily quiet, the city shrouded in an unnatural silence that set Y/n’s nerves on edge. She kept a close watch on their surroundings, every sense on high alert as they made their way through the shadows.

Logan fell into step beside her, his presence a comforting weight at her side. But she could feel the tension radiating off him, the barely contained anger that simmered just beneath the surface.

As they walked, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen, that the fragile peace they had managed to maintain was about to shatter. She glanced over at Logan, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.

“Logan,” she began, but he cut her off with a sharp look.

“Stay close,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep an eye on him.”

Y/n followed his gaze and saw Jake a few paces ahead, his posture relaxed, seemingly unaware of the danger around them. She frowned, confused by Logan’s sudden hostility.

“Logan, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he watched Jake. “Just do as I say, Y/n.”

Y/n opened her mouth to argue, but something in Logan’s tone made her stop. She nodded, falling silent as they continued through the city, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

It wasn’t until they reached another safe house, this one a dilapidated apartment building on the outskirts of the city, that Y/n finally had a chance to confront Logan. The others had gone inside to rest, leaving them alone in the dimly lit hallway.

“What the hell is your problem?” Y/n demanded, her voice low but fierce. “Why are you acting like this?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the door where the others had gone, then back to Y/n. “You need to be careful with him.”

“With Jake?” Y/n asked, incredulous. “Why? He’s been nothing but helpful.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his possessive nature rearing its head. “He’s getting too close to you.”

Y/n blinked, taken aback by the accusation. “Too close? Logan, he’s a friend. That’s it.”

Logan stepped closer, his towering presence making Y/n’s heart race. “He’s a distraction, Y/n. And distractions can get you killed.”

Y/ne’s anger flared at his words, at the way he was trying to control her. “You don’t get to decide who I’m friends with, Logan. You don’t get to dictate who I care about.”

Logan’s hand shot out, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her closer. His eyes were blazing with a mix of anger and something else—something that made Y/n’s breath catch in her throat.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea what’s out there, what could happen if you let your guard down.”

Y/n wrenched her arm free, her eyes flashing with defiance. “I don’t need you to protect me, Logan. I’ve been doing just fine on my own.”

Logan’s expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of something like regret passing through his eyes. “You’re brave, Y/n. But bravery can be a double-edged sword.”

Y/n stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to argue, to push him away, but she couldn’t ignore the truth in his words. She had seen too many people die because they had been too brave, too willing to take risks. And yet, she couldn’t let fear control her, couldn’t let Logan’s possessiveness dictate her life.

Before she could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking the tense silence. Y/n turned to see Jake approaching, his easy grin in place, completely unaware of the storm brewing between her and Logan.

“Hey, everything okay?” Jake asked, his eyes flicking between the two of them.

Y/n forced a smile, trying to keep the tension from showing on her face. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just talking strategy.”

Jake nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Cool. Just wanted to check in before we head out again.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his posture tensing as Jake turned to leave. Y/n could feel the anger radiating off him, the jealousy that was so obvious it practically crackled in the air.

Once Jake was out of earshot, Y/n turned back to Logan, her voice low and firm. “You need to stop this, Logan. Jake is not a threat.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes hard. “He’s more of a threat than you realize.”

Y/n shook her head, frustration boiling over. “This isn’t about Jake. This is about you not being able to control everything around you.”

Logan didn’t respond, his silence only fueling Y/n’s anger. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

“I can take care of myself,” she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “You don’t have to do it for me.”

Logan’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “I know you can, Y/n. But I can’t help it.”

Y/n stared at him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. She had never seen Logan like this, so raw and exposed. It was as if the walls he had built around himself were crumbling, leaving him defenseless against the emotions he had tried so hard to suppress.

Without thinking, Y/n reached out, her hand resting on his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, the warmth of his skin seeping into her own.

“Logan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Logan’s hand covered hers, his touch gentle despite the storm raging inside him. “You won’t. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his words, the promise that lay beneath them. She had always known that Logan was dangerous, that he was capable of doing terrible things in the name of survival. But this was different. This was about something deeper, something that scared her more than any Sentinel ever could. Before she could say anything else, Logan leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead in a gesture that was both tender and possessive. Y/n’s heart fluttered at the contact, her emotions a tangled mess of fear and longing.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Logan murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Even if it means keeping you away from everyone else.”

Y/n closed her eyes, the weight of his words settling over her like a heavy blanket. She knew that Logan’s protectiveness came from a place of love, that he cared for her more deeply than he would ever admit. But she also knew that his possessiveness could be dangerous, that it could drive a wedge between them if she wasn’t careful.

When Logan finally pulled away, Y/n felt the loss of his warmth like a physical blow. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his expression torn between desire and something darker.

“We should go,” Logan said, his voice strained. “The others are waiting.”

Y/n nodded, her heart heavy with the knowledge that their relationship had just crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. As they made their way back to the group, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change, that the fragile bond they had built was about to be tested in ways they couldn’t possibly imagine.

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

The journey to the next safe house was tense, the silence between Y/n and Logan growing heavier with each passing moment. Jake tried to make conversation a few times, but the mood was too dark, the unspoken tension too palpable for any lighthearted banter to cut through.

When they finally reached their destination, a rundown building that had once been a school, Y/n was relieved to see that the other mutants were already inside, safe and sound. But the relief was short-lived. The moment they stepped through the door, they were met with the sight of another mutant standing in the center of the room, his presence radiating a power that made the air hum with electricity.

Y/n recognized him instantly—Erik, a mutant with the ability to control metal. He was a legend among their kind, both revered and feared for his abilities and his ruthless determination to protect mutantkind at all costs.

“Erik,” Y/n greeted him, her voice wary. “What are you doing here?”

Erik’s gaze swept over the group, his expression unreadable. “I heard you were in need of assistance.”

Y/n ’s heart sank at the words, at the implications behind them. Erik’s help always came with a price, one that Y/n wasn’t sure she was willing to pay.

“We’re managing,” she said carefully, glancing at Logan for support.

Logan’s expression was unreadable, but Y/n could sense the tension in him, the way his muscles were coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Erik’s gaze flicked to Logan, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve made an interesting choice of allies, Y/n.”

Y/n ’s heart skipped a beat at the subtle jab, at the way Erik’s eyes seemed to gleam with something that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Logan’s been a great help,” Y/n said, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides.

Erik’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “I’m sure he has. But his methods... they’re not always in line with what’s best for our kind.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. Y/n could feel the anger radiating off him, the barely contained rage that was so close to the surface.

“We’re doing what we can to survive,” Y/n interjected quickly, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated. “That’s all that matters right now.”

Erik’s gaze shifted back to her, his smile fading into something more serious. “Survival is important, yes. But so is our future, Y/n . And sometimes, to secure that future, we have to make sacrifices.”

Y/n’s stomach churned at the words, at the implications behind them. She knew that Erik was right in some ways, that their survival depended on making tough decisions. But she also knew that Logan wouldn’t take kindly to any suggestion that involved putting her or anyone else at risk.

“I’m not interested in making sacrifices,” Logan growled, his voice low and threatening. “Especially not when it comes to Y/n.”

Erik’s eyes gleamed with a cold amusement. “And there it is—the possessiveness of the Wolverine. It’s almost... predictable.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she glanced between the two men, the tension in the room reaching a fever pitch. She knew that if something wasn’t done to diffuse the situation, things could get out of hand quickly.

“Erik, we appreciate your concern,” Y/n said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Logan’s arm, trying to calm him down. “But we’re handling things in our own way. Logan’s methods might be unorthodox, but they work. And right now, that’s all that matters.”

Y/n’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment, as if weighing her words. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained guarded. “Very well, Y/n . But remember—sometimes the only way to truly survive is to let go of the things that hold us back.”

With that, Erik turned and walked out of the room, leaving Y/n and Logan alone in the thick silence that followed his departure. Y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, her hand still resting on Logan’s arm.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.

Logan’s expression softened as he looked down at her, some of the anger fading from his eyes. “I’m fine, Y/n. But we need to be careful. Erik’s not someone to be trusted.”

Y/n nodded, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that Erik’s words had struck a chord with Logan. There was a darkness in his eyes, a shadow that hadn’t been there before, and it made her worry about what the future held for them.

As they rejoined the others, Y/n couldn’t help but feel that things were about to get a lot more complicated. The fragile peace they had managed to maintain was hanging by a thread, and she had a feeling that it wouldn’t take much to tear it apart.

And as she glanced at Logan, she knew that the possessiveness he felt for her, the fierce protectiveness that drove him, could either be their salvation—or their undoing.

#hugh jackman #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan xmen #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x female reader #logan howlett x you #logan x reader #wolverine origins #logan wolverine #james logan howlett #james howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan #x men wolverine #wolverine x fe!reader #wolverine x reader #the wolverine #wolverine

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cantsayidont · 1 year ago

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When attempting to critique the values of a long-running franchise like STAR TREK, it's important to draw a distinction between superficial issues and structural ones.

"Superficial" in this sense doesn't mean "minor" or "unimportant"; it simply means that an issue is not so intrinsic to the premise that the franchise would collapse (or would be radically different) were it changed or removed. For example, misogyny has been a pervasive problem across many generations of STAR TREK media, which have often been characterized by a particular type of leering-creep sexism that was distasteful at the time and has not improved with age. However, sexism and misogyny are not structural elements of the TREK premise; one can do a STAR TREK story where the female characters have agency and even pants without it becoming something fundamentally different from other TREK iterations (even TOS, although there are certainly specific TOS episodes that would collapse if you excised the sexism).

By contrast, the colonialism and imperialism are structural elements — STAR TREK is explicitly about colonizing "the final frontier" and about defending the borders, however defined, of an interstellar colonial power. Different iterations of STAR TREK may approach that premise in slightly different ways, emphasizing or deemphasizing certain specific aspects of it, but that is literally and specifically what the franchise is about. Moreover, because STAR TREK has always been heavily focused on Starfleet and has tended to shy away from depicting life outside of that regimented environment, there are definite limits to how far the series is able to depart from the basic narrative structure of TOS and TNG (a captain and crew on a Starfleet ship) without collapsing in on itself, as PICARD ended up demonstrating rather painfully.

This means that some of the things baked into the formula of STAR TREK are obviously in conflict with the franchise's self-image of progressive utopianism, but cannot really be removed or significantly altered, even if the writers were inclined to try (which they generally are not).

What I find intensely frustrating about most modern STAR TREK media, including TNG and its various successors, is not that it can't magically break its own formula, but that writer and fan attachment to the idea of TREK as the epitome of progressive science fiction has become a more and more intractable barrier to any kind of meaningful self-critique. It's a problem that's become increasingly acute with the recent batch of live-action shows, which routinely depict the Federation or Starfleet doing awful things (like the recent SNW storyline about Una being prosecuted for being a genetically engineered person in violation of Federation law) and then insist, often in the same breath, that it's a progressive utopia, best of all possible worlds.

This is one area where TOS (and to some extent the TOS cast movies) has a significant advantage over its successors. TOS professes to be a better world than ours, but it doesn't claim to be a perfect world (and indeed is very suspicious of any kind of purported utopia). The value TOS most consistently emphasizes is striving: working to be better, and making constructive choices. Although this can sometimes get very sticky and uncomfortable in its own right (for instance, Kirk often rails against what he sees as "stagnant" cultures), it doesn't presuppose the moral infallibility of the Federation, of Starfleet, or of the characters themselves. There's room for them to be wrong, so long as they're still willing to learn and grow.

The newer shows are less and less willing to allow for that, and, even more troublingly, sometimes take pains to undermine their predecessors' attempts along those lines. One appalling recent example is SNW's treatment of the Gorn, which presents the Gorn as intrinsically evil (and quite horrifying) in a way they're not in "Arena," the TOS episode where they were first introduced. The whole point of "Arena" is that while Kirk responds to the Gorn with outrage and anger, he eventually concedes that he may be wrong: There's a good chance that the Gorn are really the injured party, responding to what they reasonably see as an alien invasion, and while that may be an arguable point, sorting it out further should be the purview of diplomats rather than warships. By contrast, SNW presents the Gorn as so irredeemably awful as to make Kirk's (chronologically later) epiphany at best misguided: The SNW Gorn are brutal conquerors who lay eggs in their captives (a gruesome rape metaphor, and in presentation obviously inspired by ALIENS) when they aren't killing each other for sport, and even Gorn newborns are monsters to be feared. Not a lot of nuance there, and no space at all for the kind of detente found in TOS episodes like "The Devil in the Dark."

#teevee #star trek #star trek tos #star trek the next generation #star trek picard #strange new worlds #i find strange new worlds largely unwatchable #and this is a major reason why #along with their determination to no-homo spock

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rafemotherfuckingcameron · 7 months ago

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YOU LITERALLY SAVED MY LIFE

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing(s): Dark!JJ x Reader, Sarah x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Warnings: domestic abuse, physical abuse, strangling, gaslighting, alcohol, mentions of blood, toxic relationship, controlling behavior, trauma, rape, 18+

Summary: Y/n trusted JJ, who initially seemed to be the love of her life, but ultimately became the source of her deepest fears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 1 - Broken Trust

It’s hard to believe you’ve become this person—the one whose boyfriend has abused her, both physically and mentally.

You used to see yourself as strong, independent. Yet here you are, trapped in a nightmare that feels impossible to escape. JJ’s actions have slowly eroded your confidence, your spirit, until you no longer recognize yourself in the mirror.

The bruises on your body are painful reminders of the suffering you endure daily, while the scars on your heart run even deeper.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d be making excuses for his behavior, hiding the truth from your friends and family.

How did it come to this? Are you somehow to blame? Questions swirl in your mind, but one thing is clear: you can’t continue like this.

You need help—someone who will believe you, stand by your side, and help you find a way out of this darkness.

You weren’t always this way. There was a time when you loved JJ deeply, willing to do anything for him. You cherished the moments together, the laughter, and the shared dreams of a future. But then, little accidents began to happen—his temper flaring unexpectedly, small outbursts that left you shaken and confused.

At first, you brushed it off, chalking it up to stress or bad days. But as time went on, the incidents became more frequent, more intense.

You found yourself walking on eggshells, trying to avoid triggering his anger. His apologies were always followed by promises to change, and you wanted to believe him, desperately clinging to the hope that things would get better.

But deep down, you knew something had changed. The person you loved seemed like a stranger at times, and you couldn’t understand why.

You tried talking to Kiara and Sarah, pouring out your heart and sharing the pain you were going through, but they couldn't believe that JJ would ever do such things.

Kiara, your best friend since childhood, defended her best friend adamantly, unable to reconcile the JJ she knew with the one you described.

Sarah, who had been like a sister to you, also shut you down, insisting that she had known JJ for years and couldn't imagine him behaving that way.

Their disbelief cut deep, leaving you feeling isolated and alone with your suffering. Little did you know that someone would eventually step in and literally save your life. And this is your story.

—

The first time you noticed a bruise on your face was after the night the Pogues came over for a games night and drinks. It started as a fun evening, with laughter filling the house as everyone enjoyed themselves. However, as the night progressed, tensions simmered beneath the surface, and JJ's mood grew darker.

By the time the others had left, you were very drunk, and it was just you and JJ alone. He had a bad day, you vaguely remember. The details from that point are fuzzy.

You remember feeling a sudden push, a jolt that sent you tumbling down the patio stairs. The next morning, you woke up groggy and sore, finding JJ beside you. His voice was gentle but firm as he assured you that you must have fallen on your own, too intoxicated to recall.

You wanted to believe it was just an accident, a consequence of being too drunk. Yet, a nagging feeling persisted—that push, that sudden fall—it felt deliberate, calculated.

The next time it happened was the week after, on Kiara's 21st birthday. You were in the kitchen, preparing dinner for everyone, when JJ came in from fishing outside. His mood was already sour, and when he saw you preparing chicken schnitzel strips, his temper erupted.

"What the fuck is this?" he yelled, storming over to you and pushing your body out of the way. Confusion and fear gripped you as he inspected the food.

"These aren't strips, they're like mini steaks. Can you do anything right, or do I need to show you how to do it properly?" His voice thundered in the small kitchen, and in his frustration, he waved the knife at you. As he went to set the knife down, the blade sliced your arm.

Pain shot through you like fire as the knife cut deep into your arm, blood pulsing out in hot, crimson rivulets. The kitchen air thickened with the metallic tang of blood, mixing with the acrid scent of fear. Shock and disbelief froze you for a split second, but then a surge of defiance rose within you.

"You just cut me!" you screamed at JJ, your voice cracking with pain and fury. His eyes, dark with anger, bore into yours, his face contorted with disdain. But instead of remorse, his expression twisted into a mask of pure rage.

"You made me do that!" he roared, grabbing a glass cup from the counter and hurling it at you with terrifying force. The glass shattered against the wall, fragments spraying across the room like deadly shrapnel.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you psycho?" you yelled back, your voice trembling with a mix of terror and defiance. The accusation seemed to unhinge him further, igniting a storm of violence that was about to consume everything.

With a primal roar, JJ stormed toward you, his steps thundering on the floor. He shoved you brutally against the fridge, the impact jarring your already injured arm. Before you could react, his hands closed around your throat like a vice, squeezing off your air supply.

Panic surged through you, a desperate, primal instinct to survive. You clawed at his hands, your vision blurring with tears and lack of oxygen. But JJ's grip was unrelenting, crushing, his face twisted with hatred and derision.

"You think you can compare me to my father?" he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "You're lucky I even put up with you, you worthless piece of shit!"

His words were like shards of glass, cutting through your soul. Darkness closed in around the edges of your vision as you fought for breath, for life.

In that terrifying moment, with JJ's fingers digging into your throat, you realized the magnitude of the danger you were in. Every part of you screamed for escape, for survival, as you battled against the monster you once loved.

The ringing of your phone shattered the tense silence, snapping JJ out of his violent trance. You collapsed to the ground amidst the shards of broken glass, gasping for air, your throat raw from his merciless grip. Through the haze of pain and fear, you heard JJ answer your phone with forced calmness.

"Yeah, she's not feeling well. We'll just get pizza tonight," he said, his voice unnervingly composed. The casual dismissal of your suffering sent a chill down your spine.

Weak and trembling, you struggled to your feet as JJ roughly grabbed you and shoved you into the bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

Alone in the suffocating darkness of the room, you crumpled to the floor, tears mingling with the blood from your wounded arm. Fear gripped your heart as you realized you were trapped, helpless against the man you once trusted, who now seemed capable of anything.

That was the day, you knew you needed to get out!

#dark!jj maybank #jj maybank #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe mf cameron #rafe x reader #obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #obx smut #obx domestic #obx imagine #obx drabble #protective!rafe

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literary-illuminati · 1 year ago

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Book Review 68 - Babel by R. F. Kuang

Overview

I came to Babel with extremely little knowledge about the actual contents of the book but a deep sense of all the vibes swirling around its reception – that it was robbed of a Hugo nomination (if the author didn’t outright refuse it), that it’s probably the single buzziest and most Important sf/f release of 2022, that it was stridently political, and plenty more besides. I also went in having mostly enjoyed The Poppy War series and being absolutely enamoured by the elevator pitch of an alternate history Industrial Revolution where translation is literally magic. And, well-

It is wrong to say I hated this book, but only because keeping track of my complaints and starting organize this review in my head was entertaining enough to keep me invested in the reading experience.

The story is set in an alternate 1830s, where the rise of the British Empire relies upon the dominance of its translators, as it is the mixture of translation and silverworking, the inscription of match-pairs in different languages on bars of worked silver and the leveraging of the ambiguity and loss of meaning between them that fuels the world’s magic. The protagonist is pluckted from his childhood home in Canton after his family dies in a cholera outbreak and whisked away to the estate of Professor Lowell, an Oxford translator he quickly realized is his unacknowledged father. He’s made to choose an English name (Robin Swift) and raised and tutored as a future translator in service to the Empire.

The meat of the story is focused on Robin’s education in Oxford, his relationship with the rest of his cohort, and his growing radicalization and entanglement with the revolutionary Hermes Society. Things come to a head when in his fourth year the cohort is sent back to Canton to, well, help provoke the first Opium War, though none of them aware of that. The final act follows the fallout of that, by which I mean it lives up to the full title of “Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution”.

To be clear, this was technically a very accomplished book. The writing never dragged and the prose was, if not exactly lyrical, always clear and often evocative. Despite the breadth of space and time the story covers, I never had any complaints about the pacing – and honestly, the ending was, dramatically speaking, one of the more natural and well-executed ones I’ve read recently. It’s very well-constructed.

All that being said – allow me to apologize for how the rest of this is mostly just going to be a litany of complaints. But the book clearly believes itself to be an important and meaningful work of political art, which means I don’t feel particularly bad about holding it to high standards.

Narrative Voice

To start with, just, dear god the tone. This is a book with absolutely zero faith in its audience’s ability to reach their own conclusions, or even follow the symbolism and implication it lays down. Every important point is stated outright, repeated, and all but bolded and underlined. In this book set in 1830s England there are footnotes fact-checking the imperialists talking heads to, I guess, make sure we don’t accidentally become convinced by their apologia for the slave trade? Everything is just relentlessly didactic, in a way that ended up feeling rather insulting even when I agreed with the points Kuang was making.

More than that, and this is perhaps a more subjective complaint but – for an ostensible period piece, the narrative voice and perspective just felt intensely modern? This was theoretically an omniscient third person book, with the narrative voice being pretty distinct from any of the actual characters – with the result that the implicit narrator was instead the sort of person of spends six hours a day getting into arguments on twitter and for this effort calls themselves a progressive activist. The identities of all the characters – as delivered by the objective narration – were all very neat and legible from the perspective of someone at a 2022 HR department listing how diverse their team was, which was somewhere between a tragic lost opportunity to show how messy and historical racial/ethnic/national identities are and outright anachronistic, depending. (This was honestly one of the bigger disappointments, coming from Kuang’s earlier work. Say what you will of The Poppy War series, the narration is with Rin all the way down, and it trusts the reader enough not to blink.) More than that it was just distracting – the narration ended up feeling like an annoying obstacle between me and the story, and not in any fun postmodern way either.

Characters

Speaking of the cast – they simply do not sound or feel like they actually grew up in the 19th century. Now, some modernization of speech patterns and vocabulary and moral commensense is just the price of doing business with mass market period pieces, granted, but still – no 19th century Anglo-Indian revolutionary is going use the phrase ‘Narco-military state’ (if for no other reason than we’re something like a century early for ‘narco-state’ to be coined as a term at all). An even beyond feeling out of time most of the characters feel kind of thinly sketched?

Or no, it’s not that the characters are thinly sketched so much as their relationships are. We’re repeatedly, insistently told that these four students are fast friends and closer than family and would happily die for each other, but we’re very rarely actually shown it. This is partly just a causality of trying to skim over a four-year university education in the middle third of one book, I think, but still – the good times and happy moments are almost always sort of skimmed over, summarized in the course of a paragraph or two that usually talk in terms of memories and consequences more than the relationships themselves. The points of friction and the arguments, meanwhile, are usually played out entirely on the page, or at least described in much more detail. In the end you kind of have to just take it as read that any of these people actually love each other, given that at least two of them seem to be feuding at any given point for the entire time they know each other.

Letty deserves some special attention. She’s the only white member of Robin’s cohort at Babel and she honestly feels like less of acharacter and more a collection of tropes about white women in progressive spaces? Even more than the rest, it’s hard to believe the rest of the class views her as beloved ride-or-die found family when essentially every time she’s on screen it’s so she can do a microagression or a white fragility or something. Also, just – you know how relatively common it is to see just, blatantly misogynistic memes repackaged as anti-racist because it specifies ‘white women’? There’s a line in this that almost literally says ‘Letty wasn’t doing anything to disprove the stereotype of woman as uselessly emotional and hysteric’.

Also, she’s the one who ends up betraying the other three and trying to turn them in when they turn revolutionary. Which is probably inevitable given the book’s politics, but as it happened felt like less of the shocking betrayal that it was supposed to be and more just, checking off a box for a dramatic reverse. Of course she turned on them, none of them ever really seemed to even like each other.

As a Period Piece

So, the book is set in the 1830s, in the midst of the industrial revolution and its social fallout, and the leadup to the First Opium War (which is, through the magic of, well, magic ,but also mercantilist economics, make into a synecdoche for British global dominion more broadly). On the one hand, the setting is impeccably researched, recent and relevant historical events are referenced whenever they would come up, and the footnotes are full to bursting with quotes and explanations of texts or cultural ephemera that’s brought up in the narration.

On the other, the setting doesn’t feel authentic in the slightest, the portrayal of the British Empire is bizarrely inconsistent, and all that richly researched historical grounding ends up feeling less like a living world and more like a particularly well-down set for a Doctor Who episode.

The story is incredibly focused around Oxford as a city and a university. There’s a whole author’s note about the research and slight changes made into its geography and I absolutely believe its portrayal as a physical location and the laws about how women were treated and how the different colleges were organized and all that is exactly as accurate as Kuang wanted them to be. The issue is really the people. With the exception of a few cartoonish villains who barely get more than a couple pages apiece, no one feels, sounds like, or acts like they actually belong in the 19th century. The racism the protagonists struggle with all feels much more 21st century than Victorian, and the frame of mind everyone inhabits still comes across more as ‘unusually blatantly racist Englishman’ than 19th century scholars and polymaths.

This is especially blatant as far as religion goes. It’s occasionally mentioned, sure enough, but to the extent anyone actually believes in Christianity it’s of a very modern and disenchanted sort – this is a society that sends out missionaries as a conscious tool of colonial expansion, not because of anything as silly or absurd as actually wanting to spread their gospel. Also like, it’s Oxford, in the nineteenth century. For all the racism the protagonists have to deal with, they should be getting so much more shit from ‘well-meaning’ locals and students trying to save their (one Muslim, one atheist, one probably Christian but black and protective of Haitian Vodou on a cultural level which would be more than enough) souls.

Or, and this is more minor, it is a central conceit of the whole finale that if a few (like, two) determined revolutionaries can infiltrate Babel they’ll be able to take the entire place hostage with barely any trouble. This is because the students and professors there are, basically, whimpy bookworms who’ll faint at the sight of blood and have no stomach for the sort of violence their work actually supports and drives. Which – look, I really don’t want to defend the ruling class of Victorian Britain here, but I’m not sure physical cowardice is really one of their failings, as a group? I mean, there’s an entire system of institutionalized child abuse in the boarding schools they went to to get them used to taking and dealing out violence and abuse. Basically every upper-class sport is thinly disguised military drill or ritual combat (okay, or rowing). Half of them would graduate to immediately running off and invading places for the glory of the queen. I’m not sure two sleep-deprived nerds with knives would actually have been able to cow the crowd here, is what I’m saying. (This would stick out less if the text wasn’t so dripping with contempt for them on precisely these grounds.)

Much less minor are our heroic revolutionaries themselves. And okay, this is more a matter of taste than anything but like – the Hermes Society is an illegal conspiracy of renegade current and former Babel scholars dedicated to using their knowledge of magic and access to university resources to oppose and undermine the British Empire in general and the work of the school in particular. Think Metternich’s worse nightmare, but in Oxford instead of Paris and focused on colonial liberation (continental Europe barely exists for the purposes of the book, Britain is Empire.) So! A secret society of professional revolutionaries in the heydey of just that, with a name that just has to be Hermetic symbolism, who concern themselves with both high politics and metaphysics.

They are just so very, very boring. This is the age of the Conspiracy of the Equals, the Carbonari, the Seasons! The literal Illumanti are still within living memory! Where’s the pageantry, the ritual, the grandiosity? The elaborate initiation rituals and oaths of undying loyalty? They’re so pragmatic, so humble, so (and I know I keep coming back to this) modern. It’s just such an utter wasted opportunity. Even beyond the level of aesthetics, these are revolutionaries with remarkably little positive ideology – the oppose colonialism and racism for reasons they take as self-evident and so don’t feel the need to theorize about it (and talk about them with the vocabulary of a modern activist, because of course they do), but they’re pretty much consciously agnostic as to what world should look like instead. They vaguely end up supporting a sort of petty-bourgeois socialism (in the Marxist sense), but the alliance with Luddites is essentially political convenience – they really don’t seem to have any vision of the future at all, either in England or the various places they claim as homelands.

On Empire and Industrialization

The story is set during the early nineteenth century, so of course the Industrial Revolution is a pretty core part of the background. The Silver Industrial Revolution, technically, since the Babellers translation magic is in this world a key and load-bearing part of it. Despite the addition of miracle-working enhancers and supports to its fundamental technology, the industrial revolution plays out pretty identically to history – right down to the same cities becoming hubs of industry, despite steam engines using enchanted silver instead of coal and thus, presumably, the entire economic and logistical system that brought this particular cities to prominence being totally unrecognizable. This is not a book that’s in any way actually about tracing how something would change history – which isn’t a complaint, to be clear, that’s a perfectly valid creative choice.

It does, however, make it rather galling that the single actually significant difference to history is that the introduction of magic turns the industrial revolution into a Legend of Zelda boss with a giant glowing weak point you can hit to destroy the whole enterprise.

On a narrative level, I get it – it simplifies things and allows for a far happier and more dramatic ending if destroying Babel is not just a symbolic act but also literally sends London Bridge falling down and scuttles the entire royal navy and every mill and factory in Britain. It’s just that I think that by doing so it trades away any chance for actually making interesting commentary on anti-colonial and -capitalist resistance. A world where a single act of spectacular terrorism really can destroy a modern empire is frankly so detached from our world that it ceases to be able to really materially comment upon it.

Like, the principle reason to not take the Luddites as your role models is not that they were morally vicious but that they were doomed – capitalism’s ability to repair damage to infrastructure and fixed goods is legitimately very impressive! Trying to force an entire ruling class not to adopt a technology that makes whoever commits to it tremendous amounts of money (thus, power) is a herculean task even when you have a state apparatus and standing army – adding an ‘off’ button to the lot of it just trades all sense of relevance for a satisfyingly cathartic ending.

(This is leaving untouched how the book just takes it as a given that the industrial revolution was a strictly immiserating force that did nothing but redistribute money from artisans to capitalists. Which certainly tracks as something people at the time would have thought but given how resolutely modern all the other politics in the work are rings really weirdly.)

All of which is only my second biggest issue with how the book presents its successful resistance movement. It all pales in comparison to making the Empire a squeamish paper tiger.

Like, the book hates colonialism in general and the British Empire in particular, the narrative and footnotes are filled with little asides about various atrocities and injustices and just ways it was racist or complicit in some particular atrocity. But more than that it is contemptuous of it, it views the empire as (as the cliche goes) a perpetually rotting edifice that just needs one good kick; that it persists only through the myth of its own invincibility, and has no stomach for violent resistance from within. Which is absolutely absurd, and the book does seem to know it on occasion when it off-handedly mentions e.g. the Peterloo Massacre – but a character whose supposed to be the grizzled cynical pragmatic revolutionary still spouts off about how slave rebellions succeed because their masters aren’t willing to massacre their own property. Which is just so spectacularly wrong on every axis its actually almost offensive.

More importantly, the entire final act of the story relies upon the fact that the British Empire would allow a handful of foreign students seize control of a vital piece of infrastructure for weeks on end and do nothing but try to wait them out as the national physically falls apart around them. Like, c’mon, there would be siege artillery set up and taking shots by the end of week two. As with the Oxford students, the Victorian elite had all manner of flaws – take your pick, really – but squeamishness wasn’t really one of them.

On Magic

So the magical system underlying the whole story is – you know how Machinaries of Empire makes imperial ideology and metaphysics literally magical, giving expert technicians the ability to create superweapons and destroy worlds provided that the Hexarchate’s subjects observe the imperial calendar of rites and celebrate its triumphs/participate in rituals glorying in the torture of its ‘heretics’? It’s not exactly a subtle metaphor, but it works.

Babel does something similar, except the foundational atrocity fueling the engine of empire on a metaphysical level is, like, cultural appropriation. As an organizing metaphor, I find this less compelling.

Leaving that aside, the story makes translation literally capable of miracle-working – which of necessity requires making ‘languages’ distinct natural categories with observable metaphysical boundaries. It then sets the story in the 19th century – the era of newborn nation states and education systems and national literatures, where the concept of the national-linguistic community was the obsession of the entire European intelligentsia. Now this is not a book concerned with how the presence of magic would actually have changed history, in the slightest, but like – given how fascinated it is by translation and linguistics you’d think the whole ‘a language is a dialect with a navy’ cliché would at least get a light mention (but then the book doesn’t really treat language as any more inherent or natural than it does any other modern identity category, I suppose.)

As an Allegory

Okay, so having now spent an embarrassing number of words establishing to my own satisfaction that the book really doesn’t work at all as a period piece, let us consider; what if it wasn’t trying to be?

A great many things about the book just fit much better if you take it as a commentary on the modern university with Victorian window-dressing. Certainly the driving resentment of Oxford as an institution that sustains itself and grows rich off the exploitation of international students it considers second-class seems far more apt applied to contemporary elite western schools than 19th century ones. Likewise the racism the heroes face all seems like the kind you’d expect in a modern English town rather than a Victorian one. I’m not well-versed enough on the economics of the city to know for sure, but I would wager that the gleeful characterization of Oxford as a city that literally starts falling to ruin without the university to support it was also less accurate in the 1830s than it is today.

Read like this, everything coheres much better – but the most striking thing becomes the incredible vanity of the book. This is a morality tale where the natural revolutionary vanguard with the power to bring global hegemony to its knees through nothing but witholding their labour are..students at elite western universities (not, I must say, a class I’d consider in dire need of having their egos boosted). The emotions underlying everything make much more sense, but the plot itself becomes positively myopic.

Beyond that – if this is a story about international students at elite universities, it does a terrible job of actually portraying them. Or, properly, it only shows a certain type; just about every foreign-born student or professor we meet is some level of revolutionary, deeply opposed in principle to the empire they work within. No one is actually convinced by the carrot of a life as an exploited but exceedingly comfortable and well-compensated technician in the imperial core, and there’s not really acknowledgement at all of just how much of the apparatus of international institutions and governments in the global south – including positions with quite a bit of real power – end up being staffed by exactly that demographic who just sincerely agree with the various ideological projects employing them. Kuang makes it far too easy on herself by making just about every person of colour in the books one of the good guys, and totally undersells how convincing hegemonic ideology can be, basically.

The Necessity of Violence

This is a pet peeve and it’s a very minor thing that I really wouldn’t bring it up if that wasn’t literally part of the title. But it is, so – it’s a plot point that’s given a decent amount of attention that Griffin (Robin’s secret older brother, grizzled professional revolutionary, his introduction to anti-colonialism) is blamed for murdering one of his classmates who had the bad luck to be studying while he was sneaking in to steal some silver – a student that was quite well-loved by the faculty and her very successful classmates, who have never forgiven him. Later on, it’s revealed that this is an utter rewriting of history, and she’d been a double agent pretending to let herself be recruited into the Hermes Society who’d been luring Griffin into an ambush when he killed her and escaped.

This is – well, the most predictable not-even-a-twist imaginable, for one, but also – just rank cowardice. You titled the book ‘the necessity of violence’, the least you can do is actually own it and show that violent resistance means people (with faces, and names, not just abstractions only ever talked about in general terms) who are essentially personally innocent are going to end up collateral damage, and people are going to hold grudges about it. Have some courage in your convictions!

Translation

Okay, all of that said, this isn’t a book that’s wholly bad, or anything. In particular, you can really tell how much of a passion Kuang has for the art and science of translation. The depth of knowledge and eagerness to share just about overflows from the page whenever the book finds an excuse to talk about it at length, and it’s really very endearing. The philosophizing about translation was also as a rule much more interesting and nuanced then whenever the book tried to opine about high politics or revolutionary tactics.

Anyways, I really can’t recommend the book in any real way, but it did stick in my head for long enough that I’ve now written 4,000 words about it. So at the very least it’s the interesting sort of bad book, y’know?

#book review #babel #r. f. kuang #sff #lesbian space atrocities #-ish #hatermode

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clevercorvidae · 2 months ago

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my issue with caitvi is honestly...i dont understand what its there for. what does it MEAN, what is the central theme of their story? Like, you look at timebomb and jayvik in comparison and they have so much MEANING.

Jinx and Ekko's story is one that heavily props up both of their characters. For Ekko, him giving up on Jinx and believing that Powder is gone for good, shutting down his care for her reflects his loss of faith in zaun, his paranoia and his close guarding of the tree and the firelights. But through his journey to the Good End universe he learned that Powder is still within Jinx, that she has beautiful qualities as Jinx and that in his world she has so much power and ability to change things. Him seeing Jinx for who she is, for her endless potential inspires him to go back to his reality and help fix it, to take the leap, to have hope for Zaun and for a better future. And in doing so he brings Jinx back to earth while at her lowest, after she's lost everything and puts that same hope for change into her. Their relationship, their story, is one about hope.

Jayce and Viktor's story is about control and perfectionism. Viktor loathes sm about himself. He thinks he is something that needs fixing, that he isnt enough. Jayce meanwhile wants to bring magic into the world, but he's naive and easily manipulated. Both of these mindsets leads them to attempting to progress with hextech in a dangerous fashion, in the pursuit of More. Viktor gets a kick in the ass with his terminal diagnosis and attempts to "fix" himself no matter the consequences, no matter his loss of humanity. When he is revived by the hexcore it only gets more intense, he leaves Jayce and all his connections in pursuit of "perfecting" everything else in existence. He believes flaws and imperfections and individuality only cause pain because he could only look ahead and see a dark future. Jayce meanwhile gets swept into politics and in his own way loses himself to his pursuit of their dream. it takes him getting sent to the Bad End universe, having to stew in the consequences of their hubris and, more importantly, in his own thoughts, that he achieves clarity. When Jayce is in the void with Viktor and he tells him he was never broken, that his imperfections were what made him who he was, and that he just wants to be with him again over any ambitions he previously held, he proves this by showing Viktor his memories of their relationship. He brings Viktor back to himself and they choose to stay together as the rune collapses everything, because what they truly needed wasnt perfection or progress, it was to appreciate each other in the present flaws and all. Their story is about appreciating what you have, about being in the moment.

But caitvi...I just dont get it. At first I thought their relationship was meant to be a reflection of Zaun and Piltover. But it just gets so messy the more I look at it. I suppose it makes sense considering the zaun vs piltover plot was handled messily as well. if my originally interpretation is correct then it makes sense that both plots would rely on the other working to make sense. Vi loses so much of her depth and she is hardly explored whereas Cait becomes very unlikeable. And then all of their conflict is simply brushed aside in the end. Its a mess. Please if you understand them and you got meaning from theur story please explain it to me. i want to like them, but i just cant make sense of it

#arcane #caitvi #timebomb #jayvik #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #ekko arcane #jinx arcane #viktor arcane #jayce talis #maybe one of them shouldve gone into the arcane with ekko and jayce #that seems to be the deciding factor

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kiesbrainjuice · 6 months ago

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— JUST CONFESS ! suna rintaro

➥ syn : when you’re in love with the same person for several years maybe you need to confess one day?

➥ wc : 2.2k

➥ tw : oneshot, confession, fluff

Suna Rintarou had been harboring deep feelings for you for as long as he could remember. From the moment he first saw you in class, with your radiant smile and kind eyes, he knew his heart had been irreversibly captured. As the years passed, his affection only grew stronger, becoming an integral part of his daily life.

Every morning, Suna would wake up with thoughts of you flooding his mind. He'd spend extra time getting ready, hoping to catch your attention at school. The walk to class was filled with anticipation, his heart racing at the prospect of seeing you. When you'd greet him with a friendly wave or a casual "Good morning," he'd feel a warmth spread through his chest, savoring the brief interaction.

During lessons, Suna found himself constantly distracted by your presence. He'd steal glances at you, admiring the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when concentrating, or how your eyes lit up when you understood a difficult concept. He'd imagine scenarios where he'd finally gather the courage to confess his feelings, daydreaming about holding your hand or taking you on a date.

Lunchtime was both a blessing and a curse for Suna. He cherished the moments when you'd join him and his friends, relishing the sound of your laughter and the way you'd animatedly share stories. But it also pained him to see how easily you interacted with others, fearing that someone else might capture your heart before he had the chance to reveal his own feelings.

After school, Suna would often linger, hoping for an opportunity to walk home with you. On the days when fate aligned and you'd accompany him, he'd treasure every second, committing to memory the cadence of your voice and the way the setting sun cast a golden glow on your features. These moments were bittersweet, filled with both joy and the ache of unspoken emotions.

At home, thoughts of you permeated every aspect of Suna's life. He'd find himself smiling at inside jokes you'd shared, or texting you under the pretense of asking about homework, just to have an excuse to talk to you. He'd lie awake at night, imagining a future where he'd finally have the courage to tell you how he felt, wondering if you might reciprocate his feelings.

Suna's friends had long since noticed his infatuation. They'd tease him good-naturedly, encouraging him to make a move. But fear of rejection and the potential loss of your friendship always held him back. He convinced himself that being close to you as a friend was better than risking losing you entirely.

As time went on, Suna's love for you only deepened. He found himself falling for the little things – the way you'd scrunch your nose when you laughed, your unwavering kindness to others, and your determination when faced with challenges. He admired your strengths and wanted to support you through your weaknesses. In his eyes, you were perfect, flaws and all.

The intensity of his feelings sometimes overwhelmed Suna. There were days when the longing was almost unbearable, when he'd have to excuse himself from your presence just to catch his breath and compose himself. Other times, just being near you filled him with a sense of contentment and belonging he'd never experienced before.

Suna tried to show his affection in subtle ways. He'd always volunteer to be your partner for group projects, offer to help you study for difficult exams, and remember small details about your likes and dislikes. He hoped that somehow, through these gestures, you might begin to see him as more than just a friend.

As the school year progressed, Suna's feelings continued to grow. He found himself imagining a future with you – attending university together, building a life side by side. These daydreams both comforted and tormented him, representing everything he yearned for but was too afraid to reach for.

Then came the day that shook Suna's world. As he rounded the corner in the school hallway, he saw you engaged in animated conversation with a male classmate. The two of you were standing close, heads bent together over a notebook, talking and laughing. The sight sent a jolt of pain through Suna's heart.

Jealousy and fear coursed through him as he watched the interaction. His mind raced with possibilities – was this just a friendly chat, or was there something more? Had he waited too long, only to lose you to someone else? The thought of you being with another person made his chest tighten painfully.

Unable to bear watching any longer, Suna turned and quickly walked away, his emotions in turmoil. Suna burst into the classroom, his usual composure completely shattered. Atsumu and Osamu looked up from their lunch, startled by their friend's sudden entrance.

"Oi, Sunarin, what's got your boxers in a twist?" Atsumu called out, mouth full of rice.

Suna paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. "I just saw Y/N talking to Tanaka from Class 3. They were laughing and standing so close, heads together over some stupid notebook. It looked... it looked..."

"Like they were plotting world domination?" Osamu offered dryly.

"No! Like they were... intimate," Suna finished, glaring at Osamu.

Atsumu perked up. "Oho? Sounds like someone's jealous~"

"I'm not jealous!" Suna snapped, then immediately deflated. "Okay, maybe I am. A little."

The twins exchanged a glance, Osamu rolling his eyes at his brother's grin.

"You know, Sunarin," Atsumu began, leaning forward, "there's an easy solution to this. Just confess already!"

Osamu snorted. "Right, because you're such an expert on confessions, Mr. 'I-once-confessed-to-a-vending-machine-thinking-it-was-Kita-senpai.'"

Atsumu's face turned bright red. "That was one time! And it was dark!"

Suna looked between the bickering twins, feeling more lost than ever. "Guys, focus! What am I supposed to do about Y/N?"

Osamu turned his attention back to Suna. "Well, first things first. Did ya actually hear what they were talkin' about?"

"No," Suna admitted reluctantly. "I couldn't bear to get any closer."

"So for all you know, they could've been discussin' the matin' habits of sea slugs," Osamu pointed out.

Atsumu made a face. "Gross, 'Samu. Why would anyone talk about that?"

"It was an example, ya nitwit," Osamu retorted, flicking a grain of rice at his twin.

Suna groaned, slumping into a nearby chair. "This isn't helping, guys."

The twins sobered up, seeing their friend's genuine distress.

"Look, Sunarin," Atsumu began, trying to sound serious, "you've been crushin' on Y/N forever. Don't ya think it's time to do somethin' about it?"

Osamu nodded in agreement. "Yeah, for once, this idiot's right. You should confess."

"But what if Y/N doesn't feel the same way?" Suna asked, vulnerability clear in his voice.

"Then at least you'll know," Osamu said gently.

"And you can move on to someone better!" Atsumu chimed in cheerfully, earning a smack from his brother.

"Don't listen to him," Osamu sighed. "Look, Suna, you're a catch. Any idiot can see that. Well, except this idiot," he added, jerking a thumb at Atsumu.

"Hey!" Atsumu protested, then paused. "Wait, was that a compliment or an insult?"

Ignoring his brother, Osamu continued, "The point is, you've got a real shot with Y/N. But you'll never know if you don't take the risk."

Suna looked between his friends, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation. "You really think I should confess?"

"Absolutely!" Atsumu exclaimed. "Go for it! Sweep Y/N off their feet!"

"Maybe don't literally sweep them off their feet," Osamu cautioned. "Remember what happened when you tried that with Kita-senpai?"

Atsumu's face fell. "I said we'd never speak of that again."

Despite his nerves, Suna found himself chuckling at his friends' antics. Their contradictory advice and playful bickering were oddly comforting, reminding him that no matter what happened, he'd have their support.

"Alright," Suna said, taking a deep breath. "I'll do it. After school, I'm going to find Y/N and confess."

The twins beamed at him, momentarily united in their excitement for their friend.

"That's the spirit, Sunarin!" Atsumu cheered.

"Just be yourself," Osamu advised. "And maybe don't mention the whole jealousy thing right off the bat."

As the final class of the day drew to a close, Suna's heart raced in his chest. His palms were sweaty as he clutched the small, folded piece of paper he'd hastily scribbled on earlier. When the bell rang, he quickly gathered his things and made his way to your desk, trying his best to appear casual.

"H-hey, Y/N," he stammered, internally cursing his nervousness. "This is for you." He thrust the paper towards you, avoiding eye contact.

You looked at him curiously, accepting the note. "Thanks, Rin. What's this about?"

Suna's cheeks flushed at the nickname. "Just... just read it, okay?" And with that, he hurried out of the classroom, leaving you slightly puzzled.

As you unfolded the paper and read its contents, Suna was already making his way to the designated meeting spot near the gym. He paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair and muttering to himself, trying to calm his nerves.

Time seemed to crawl by as he waited. Each passing minute felt like an eternity, and doubts began to creep into his mind. What if you didn't come? What if you'd figured out what he wanted to say and were avoiding him?

Just as he was considering giving up and going home, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned to see you walking towards him, a mix of concern and curiosity on your face.

"Hey Rin," you said with a smile. "What's up? Your note seemed pretty urgent."

Suna opened his mouth, but no words came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Y/N, I... uh... I wanted to talk to you about... um..."

You noticed his nervousness and your expression softened. "Rin, are you okay? You seem really stressed. Take a deep breath, it's just me."

Suna nodded, following your advice and taking a few deep breaths. "Sorry, I'm just... this is hard for me."

"It's alright," you reassured him. "There's no rush. Just take your time."

Suna nodded gratefully. "Okay, so... the thing is... I've been wanting to tell you something for a while now. It's about... about how I feel..."

He trailed off again, looking down at his feet. You gently placed a hand on his arm. "Hey, it's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me. We're friends, right?"

Suna looked up at you, finding comfort in your kind eyes. "Yeah, we are. But that's... that's kind of the problem. Because I... I don't want to be just friends anymore."

Your eyes widened slightly, but you remained silent, letting him continue.

"What I'm trying to say is... I like you, Y/N. As more than a friend. I have for a long time now. And today, when I saw you talking to Tanaka, I just..."

"Wait," you interrupted, a small smirk forming on your face. "Is that what this is about? You saw me talking to Tanaka?"

Suna's face flushed red. "Well, yeah. You two looked pretty close and I thought..."

You couldn't help but laugh, which made Suna look even more flustered. "Oh, Rin. Tanaka and I were just discussing the history project. Nothing more."

"Oh," Suna said, looking embarrassed. "I guess I jumped to conclusions."

You grinned teasingly. "So, the cool and composed Suna Rintarou gets jealous, huh? That's pretty cute."

"Shut up," he mumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his voice.

Your expression softened again. "But Rin, about what you said... about liking me..."

Suna tensed up, preparing himself for rejection. But instead, you stepped closer to him.

"I like you too," you said softly. "I have for a while now. I just never thought you'd feel the same way."

Suna's eyes widened in disbelief. "You... you do?"

You nodded, a warm smile on your face. "Yeah, I do. You're amazing, Rin. Smart, funny, caring... How could I not fall for you?"

A rare, genuine smile spread across Suna's face. "I can't believe this. I was so nervous about telling you, and all this time..."

"All this time we were both too scared to say anything," you finished for him. "But I'm glad you finally did."

Suna reached out hesitantly, taking your hand in his. "So... does this mean you'd want to go out with me sometime?"

You intertwined your fingers with his, your heart fluttering at the contact. "I'd love to, Rin. I'd really love to."

As you both stood there, hands clasped and hearts full of newfound joy, Suna couldn't help but think that all the nervousness and fear had been worth it for this moment. And as for your teasing about his jealousy? Well, he figured he could live with that if it meant he got to be with you.

tag : @haechansbbg

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