#I’ve read the explanations but none of them stick
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I taught the Hamlet and Ophelia scene yesterday and with one class it went fairly well and we had a little extra time at the end I gave them for personal use, and then the next class it went super well and the kids were so engaged and discussing it all deeply, and then the third and final class was so quiet, bumps on a log, so we finished super fast and they had nothing to say so I just made them go through it line by line, translating each line for me after I read it, even though I have consistently avoided doing this because tbh Hamlet talking about commerce and beauty and honesty has always somewhat eluded me and IT WAS SO GOOD ?? They had illuminating and interesting things to say and some of the inherent layers of the scene started coming into the light for me as well as them and it was just soooooo good like.
#teaching tag#this one kid was like ‘he’s saying that beauty has more power to corrupt truth than truth has to transform beauty’#and I was like ‘ohhhhhhhh’#Alwkkwkwkekejwj#Though tbh I still don’t quite understand the ‘if you be honest and fair your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty’ line#I’ve read the explanations but none of them stick#I read one that’s saying she shouldn’t allow any compliments on her beauty? but that doesn’t make sense to me#It sounds more like her beauty and honesty should have nothing to do with each other because beauty is corruptive#But idk exactly what admit no discourse means here#pls tell me your thoughts if you have any
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Redamancy: Chapter Three
Jasper Hale x Reader
Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: None
Notes: So sorry last weekend’s chapter was late this week, I’m back to my regularly scheduled posting! I’m so excited so many of you like this series so far!!
Word Count: 1131
Series Masterlist
• January 25, 2005 • Forks High School •
Reader
My second day at Forks high school started much smoother than the first. It was pretty much uneventful until I decided to eat lunch alone outside on the picnic tables in the quad. It was an overcast day much like all the others and maybe a little chilly, but still decent enough since it wasn’t currently raining. It made for the perfect condition being that no one else really wanted to eat outside.
That is, until I spotted none other than Jasper Hale headed in my direction.
“Mind if I join you?” He asks, pointing to the opposite end of the table I’m currently occupying.
“Not at all.” I respond, idly tidying my area self consciously.
“Sorry, sometimes it’s a little overwhelming inside and I come out here to get away.” He says by way of explanation, laying down the sketch pad he carried with him along with a few pencils and a smudge stick. “Mostly I just come out here to draw uninterrupted.” He sits and flips to an empty page, tilting it a little away from my view.
“I get it, large crowds aren’t my thing either. Plus in the two days I’ve known Emmett I can already tell that he probably creates a hostile drawing environment.” I finish with a light chuckle, turning my attention toward the unfinished apple in my hand.
“You draw too?” He asks, eyebrows lifting as he begins a rough sketch on the blank paper.
“Oh heck no, I don’t have any artistic abilities like that, as much as I wish I did.” I frown, taking a bite of my apple.
“I didn’t think I had it in me either, but I took some classes, watched some videos online, and doodled around a lot. Finally got the hang of it although I still don’t really think I’m that good.” He trails off, concentrating on his pencil strokes. “It helps with the stress though, especially when there’s a lot going on.”
“That is… actually kind of neat. Having an outlet that’s also inspiring, creating art and it centering you in the process.” I muse out loud, watching a face beginning to take shape on his paper.
I’m about to ask who he’s drawing when the bell signaling the end of lunch rings out in the empty air surrounding us. I gather my trash and stand while he tucks his supplies away.
“Thanks for keeping me company today.” I tell him as I gaze into his beautifully golden eyes, not quite ready to part ways with him.
“Thanks for allowing me to disturb your peace and quiet.” And as if reading my mind, “Mind if I walk you to your next class?”
“Oh um, sure.” Trying not to seem too excited by the proposition of spending more time in this gorgeous boy’s presence. I tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear and walk towards him.
“Lead the way, darlin’.” He announces, sweeping his arm in the direction of the main school building, a smirk on his lips.
I laugh and shake my head at his antics, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I walk past him in the direction of my economics class.
Ditching my trash in the trash can as we leave the quad, I miss the way he grins at the accomplishment of making me giggle. I also fail to notice the astounded looks of his adopted siblings as we pass them unaware of their presence through the windows of the cafeteria. Faces reflecting their shocked thoughts at seeing their brother openly flirting with a female compared to his normal stoic facade.
“How did you do it?” Emmett asks, leaning against the locker next to mine.
“Could you be a little more specific?” I ask, a little confused by his blunt question.
“You’ve been here less than a week and my brother is wrapped around your little finger.” He says, holding up his pinky to wiggle in my face.
I laugh and shut my locker, “Emmett, I’ve had all of like two interactions with Jasper, you’re looking into this a little too much.”
“He usually keeps to himself, this isn't the normal Jasper we’re talking about.” He falls into step slightly behind me on my way to the last class of the day, his large build not moving through the throng of students as quickly as I am.
I turn to look at my new friend, “I literally have no clue, it’s probably nothing Em!” My heart picking up speed at just the thought of Jasper. Is he actually interested in me? Is that what Emmett is getting at?
There’s no way, beautiful people like him don’t go for people like me.
I turn and leave Emmett behind in the hallway as students finish rushing through the halls, the tardy bell ringing.
American History, the class I share with Jasper Hale and it also happens to be the last class of the day. Unfortunately though, his assigned seat is on the other side of the room. At least it’s more forward than mine, leaving me to observe him for most of the class period without him seeing.
History is also my worst subject; whether it’s world or US history, I hate it all the same. So many mistakes and atrocities, I wish I could let it flow in one ear and out the other without having to remember it for tests.
Today though, I get the sense our teacher has had a difficult day since he’s decided to let us work together freely. Seeing as I don’t really know anyone yet, I’m forced to work alone.
As if he could feel my discomfort and irritation with the assignment, Jasper Hale appears at the edge of my peripheral vision, claiming the abandoned desk next to mine and turning a few heads of our classmates.
“You’re thinking so loud I could practically hear it from across the room.” He mutters lowly without looking up from his worksheet.
“I’m thinking too loud?” I respond defensively as I cut him a look that would normally skin boys alive.
“Would you like some help or not, doll?” He asks, a grin sliding across his lips as his eyes meet mine in challenge.
“I-uh, I hate history.” I manage to blurt out, a little flustered that he so easily bypassed my frustrated facade without a blink.
“I do want that explanation eventually, but we have work to finish and only,” He breaks eye contact to glance at the clock above the board, “thirty seven minutes left before you’re on your own.”
“Alright Hale, what did you get for number four?” I deflate and accept his offer to save me from the misery of suffering through this stupid assignment alone.
Next
#jasper hale#jasper hale x reader#jasper whitlock hale#twilight fanfiction#twilight#jasper hale fanfiction#jasper whitlock#bless-my-demons#redamancy series#slow burn#female reader insert
460 notes
·
View notes
Note
idk if you’ve read the manga ‘to say the least, this is love’,,, but could you do like opposites attract with shinichiro; silly little delinquent x serious college student 😇😇
maybe like they meet and start to run into each other a bunch more, shinichiro is very vocal about him starting to develop feelings and the reader is very straightforward and only focused on studies. but starts to warm up to him and he starts giving reader rides to class on his bike and whatnot🤭🤭🤭 sorry this explanation is so long idk how to put it in shorter words T^T
— cigarette with his number on it
a/n: absolutely LOVE LIVE LOVE shinichiro with a partner like this so i decided to write a little story not completely the ask (i got off topic) BUT PLS DO ENJOY
warnings: none?? , wc 1029
“Hey Y/n do you have a pencil I could borrow?” Shinichiro leans over to his right to whisper to the girl taking notes.
"I gave you a pencil last class shinichiro.” She whispers back, not looking up from her notes.
"The class was last week. How am I supposed to keep track of a small pencil?” He pouts and crosses his arms. Shinichiro was always like this unprepared for class, late, cutting classes. Shinichiro watches Y/n write her notes grabbing a pen underlining what she found important. He had always found himself watching her; they did share a couple lectures and he made sure to grab the seat next to her in every one. The professor asks if anyone has any final questions before dismissing all the students.
“Hey Y/n what are you doing tomorrow?” Shinichiro asks while the girl picks her things and packs them away.
“Homework” Y/n responds walking past shinichiro but he follows quickly behind her.
"Cmonnn it’s Friday there has to be something else for you to do” he whines he can tell he’s annoying her by the way she clenches her pen.
"I don’t see why you care so much of what I’m doing with my time.”
"You’re doing homework instead of going on a date with me.” Shinichiro pouts as Y/n rolls her eyes. Shinichiro has been asking her out since their first class almost 6 months ago and each time Y/n has denied him but today will be different. Shinichiro smirks, stepping in front of the girl stopping her, taking the pen out of her hand, ignoring her glare. He takes his pack of cigarettes out and fishes one out then puts the pack back into his pocket.
"I don’t think you’re allowed to smoke on school property.” She says flatly he chuckled at her.
"I’ve seen you study at the Coffee Bean so you’ll meet me there” he says writing on the cigarette. “And before you say no just take it as you’re already going to be studying there and I just happen to show up at the same time and since we’re friends I sit with you and we have coffee.” He grabs her hand, opening it and gently placing the cigarette in it and putting her pen in his back pocket. “Text me for the time you’ll be showing up.”
"Give me my pen back Shinichiro.”
“You’ll get it back when we meet at the Coffee Bean.” He winks at her then walks away. She looks at the cigarette shaking her head and puts it in her pocket.
Setting her things on her desk with a sigh, pulling her phone out of her back pocket, something falls on the floor. Looking down she sees the cigarette rolling on the floor she bends down and picks it up.
“Wow Y/n new hobby?” Her brother says looking at the stick in her fingers for a second but not sticking around for a response making his way to his room. Sighing again she looks at her phone typing the number.
I want my pen back.
Shinichiro hates to admit it but he’s nervous, walking to the spot he agreed to meet her at. Brushing his hand through his hair as he catches sight of himself in the mirror. Walking in with a deep breath he finds her in the dark corner face deep in her book.
"Y/n? What a coincidence” He says walking her with a smile on his face.
"Hello Shinichiro” She says, breaking away from her book. “You didn't bring your books?”
“Watching you study gives me all the satisfaction I need”
"What does that even mean?” He laughs at her comment. She goes back to her book and starts to write something down when he catches sight of her pen.
"Do you like spiderman?”
“What?” She stops writing to look at him.
“Your pen.” They both look at the kiddish pen sitting in her hand, it's blue with the character spiderman around the top.
"I mean yeah it's the only other pen I had since my other one was being held hostage.” She said, twisting the pen between her fingers.
"So it was just laying around?” He says with a smirk.
"My brother gave it me as a joke”
“You have a brother?” He says, eyes widening a bit. She raised an eyebrow nodding her head.
An hour had passed and the two never seemed to notice, lost in their own world. Y/n closed her book, setting it off to the side much to Shinichiro’s pleasure. The two talked about their siblings, why they applied to college, shared stories about middle school and spiderman which Y/n is a big fan of Shinichiro found out. Every time Y/n giggled at his stories his cheeks burned she was beautiful he thought to himself. Looking down at her watch Y/n’s eyes widened.
“Oh wow I didn't mean to talk your ear off” she says giving him a soft smile.
“I like seeing your face not in a book” he says smiling at her in return leaning on his hand. She gave him a glare and started to pack her things. “Do you have to be somewhere?”
"I told my brother I would pick something up from the library for him it closes soon”
"Do you want a ride?”
"Are you sure? I've never seen you even walk by the library” she says giggling remembering the time she was studying and instead of walking past the library he went to the opposite side of the street.
“Well you'll just have to hold my hand so I don't run away” he says, snatching her bag and swinging it across his shoulders as he stands up.
“Just say you want to hold my hand Sano” she says standing up next to him. He nudges her towards the door with a crooked smile as he shakes his head.
not proofread
#shinichiro x reader#tokyo revengers shinichiro#shinichiro sano#shinichiro fluff#shinichiro imagines#shinichiro x y/n#shinichiro x you#shinichiro headcanons#shinichiro drabble#tr shinichiro
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok dumping my thoughts right here now that I’ve collected them since reading Batman 138. It’s a doozy, so bear with me.
Honestly, the premise of Gotham War is intriguing and could’ve been good if not for the sloppy execution. It’s interesting to see Bruce’s psyche rapidly declining, but how Zdarsky is going about it is ham-fisted and forced. First off, Selina’s method is outlandish and riddled with plot holes. There’s no skirting around that. Now logically I could see the batfamily members not declaring an allegiance to either side because both Bruce and Selina are in the wrong here; Bruce is losing his mind because Zur is hijacking it while Selina thinks training criminals will magically solve all violent crime in Gotham and everything will be sunshine and rainbows. But having the kids blindly fall into line with Selina because they agree with her plan is dogwater writing that I’m surprised Zdarsky cooked up after his spectacular Daredevil run. Have them form their own faction and let them actually act like they have agency and purpose instead of shoving them into roles that don’t fit.
Now I’m a little skeptical on the whole Jason/failsafe stuff. On one end, it’s a daring concept to play with. It shows how Bruce is going off the deep end and raises the stakes of the plot. On the other end, it’s going to drive an enormous wedge between Jason and Bruce for the foreseeable future. Like, there is no forgiving Bruce for this easily. Maybe that’s a good thing though, considering Jason for the past few years has been cycling through the same character arc over and over again like a washing machine that spits out clothes that are more worn-out after every load. Taking him out of the batfamily fold and inserting him into his own corner of DC sequestered away from Batman might actually force DC to write him organically, depending on whether or not Jason doesn’t go insane himself because what Bruce did to him was quite literally torture that will now be perpetual. Wowza.
My next gripe is the timing between comics. Batman and Robin’s timeframe is vague, but after reading 138 it makes zero sense why Damian would steadfastly stick by Bruce’s side—unless of course B&R happens way later, and somehow Bruce regains minor control of his mental state. Or the most realistic explanation being that the writers didn’t communicate the timelines, leaving their stories to contradict each other. But what are comics if not zany contradictions of stories? So I guess this gripe can slide…for now. Benefit of the doubt to Williamson at least because he planned B&R way in advance, meanwhile Gotham War was strung together as a myopic copy of Marvel’s Civil War in order to—I’m spitballing here—have Bruce be alone for a while in his own comics because he’s “a loner”…despite his character being, at his core, a family man, and whose character revolved around family for decades. Family rift stories can be good. Packed with drama. Exciting. This is none of the above.
Finally, arguably my biggest complaint about this dumpster fire, is Tim. Writers tend to be biased toward characters, I understand that, but when favoritism bleeds into the writing it sours the story altogether. Having Tim assume this role of “Bruce’s savior” is incredibly cheap and a little laughable at times. I see that they’re trying to establish him as important again, reliving his glory days as the Robin who helped guide Bruce back onto the right path after Jason’s death, but throwing other characters under the bus to lift him up is crazy. Especially Damian, because Damian saved his dad’s life twice in the last few months. Seriously, I’d brush it off if Tim hadn’t told Damian he was the one who helped Bruce out of the darkness while Damian only pushed Bruce further into it. Paraphrasing, but that’s the general idea: Tim is a saint and the rest of his siblings (Cassandra? Who?) are a cut below him when it comes to helping dear old dad out of his bad place. That hug was cute, but it was sugar spread on a pile of shit.
#rant#batman 138#batman#batman comics#i have a lot on my mind at 1am and i need to wake up early for classes oops#spoilers for batman 138 / Gotham war
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
TW: PTSD, War & Combat, Harassment/Abuse of Power
Where should I even start with this book? If you’re in the LitRPG/Fantasy/Progression Novel/ Kindle Unlimited space at all, then you’ve heard of it. Undoubtedly one of the most popular of the genre, does this book deserve to be remembered as a pioneer in fiction? Or is it a cluttered mess of a novel? Let’s discuss.
First, the genre. If you’ve never heard of it, LitRPG novels are fiction novels that incorporate video game-like aspects somehow, usually through the world’s magic or combat system. If you’ve never read a book in the genre or if you aren’t familiar with video games at all, it can be a bit… awkward, to put it lightly. There’s just a general sense of cringe associated with a book about people using video game-style UIs and power scaling that makes it a difficult genre to break into. If you can power through, though, or if you just don’t care, like me, then I really do think that these books can be worth a shot, this one in particular.
Now, the book itself. First, the title is a bit uninspiring. There are around 12 books in the series and none of them have proper titles, just “He Who Fights With Monsters #1”, “He Who Fights With Monsters #2”, etc. etc. Not a great start in my eyes but I’m not huge on titles anyway. If the story’s good, I don’t care what you call it as long as I can say the name with a straight face. The cover’s also pretty solid. It doesn’t give too much away, a surprisingly large problem with a large portion of books I’ve read, and it doesn’t look cheap or poorly made.
The story itself revolves around Jason, a man who works as an assistant manager at an office supply store. Bypassing that entirely, the story starts abruptly, with Jason waking up completely naked in a hedge maze. Here, the LitRPG elements make themselves known. A holographic screen appears in front of him, offering a quest: Explore the hedge maze with pants as a reward upon successful completion. Already, half of you are about to click away. “Wait, it’s an isekai on top of having video game shit? I’m out.” Hold on, lemme cook.
I won’t go into too much more detail about the beginning (certainly not about the Potent Carnivorous Hamsters or the cannibal cult) to avoid spoilers since the story progresses pretty quickly after that. Jason gets magic powers, finds friends, fights monsters, kind of what it says on the back cover. Just know that, despite how silly or stupid it seems now, there’s actually a good explanation for everything that has and will occur. It takes some time, but once the pieces begin to fit into place, it all feels like it makes sense and fits into the story.
The main character is also a sticking point for some people. You might be saying, “Well, first it’s the genre, then the isekai story, now the main character sucks? Why are you even telling me about this heap of garbage?” Shhhh. Shut the fuck up. I said lemme cook. In this case, I feel like it’s an issue of people not following through more with the series. The issue people have is that the main character is nonstop snarky, sarcastic, and an overall wiseass who doesn’t respect people much more powerful than him and seems to just get away with it for no reason. Which, fair enough. Some of the jokes are pretty funny but I can see how that gets old. If you quit here, this will probably be one of your big takeaways for the series. If you keep going, though, it’s well worth it. The character development arc that the series follows actually shocked me on my first readthrough and continues to impress me on further rereads. There are real, serious consequences to Jason’s actions and disrespect for people he dislikes. His character development reflects this in a very believable way, and once he develops some, you can start to see the positive characteristics hiding under the mask of snark. Plus, his anti-capitalism, anti-American exceptionalism sentiments are pretty funny.
The magic system is interesting and pretty easy to follow so I won’t touch on it too much here. Powers are incredibly varied, keeping it fresh and unique. There’s some bloat later when the author needs to remind you exactly what each character’s ability does during intense combat sequences, but they’ve already noted that it’s a problem and are working to improve their writing in future books.
Finally, the depiction of stress and PTSD is present and pretty well warranted in the series. I won’t touch on it here since, duh, it’s the first book and everything’s sunshine and rainbows, but it’s worth mentioning due to how much it impressed me. Seeing characters have real-feeling stress and PTSD responses to combat, killing, and torture isn’t something that’s touched on much IMO. This book uses these intense feelings to ground the characters, making them significantly more relatable and realistic. In this story, actions have real consequences. People aren’t invincible and can’t shrug off horrifying sights and experiences. Their progression is influenced by their experiences and it’s on full display here. Again, not really present in this one but definitely a selling point I wanted to mention.
Now. That was a lot of rambling, I know. I know I didn’t touch on the story much but there’s really only a little I can mention without taking away some of the enjoyment you’ll get from reading this book. If you enjoy fantasy, magic, lots of fighting, and world-spanning mystery/danger, give this a shot. I genuinely believe that this series is something special. It might not be the most well-written at times, but I enjoy it every time I read it.
I rarely give 5 stars to a book. It really needs to be something I love for me to recommend something this highly but this book absolutely deserves it.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
💭 Thoughts and Questions 💭
Content: My thoughts on the backlash to the JITB physical release. This is rather long.
It feels necessary to preface this with I LOVE Jung Hoseok. I’m a fan. His solo release may damn well be my favorite of Ch. 2 so far. None of my thoughts are a criticism of him, moreso criticisms of the backlash to the physical release…
So, I’m trying to keep up with the drama surrounding the JITB physical release but maybe I’m just too out of the loop to understand?
I don’t buy physical copies (of almost anything). It’s just not a part of my fandom experience for any fandom I belong to. Hasn’t been for years, since most of the world and my household went digital. So maybe that’s why I didn’t get the uproar originally when everyone wanted a physical album, but I mostly ignored it. Now I see a lot of people chastising those who wanted a physical album (and apparently caused enough of a ruckus to get one) and I’m not getting things again.
Perhaps it’s because I work for a B2C (business to consumer) corporation and I’ve been in marketing for a decade, but to me this seems like a normal occurrence? That is: 1) customers want/like something/ a feature they’ve come to expect. 2) business doesn’t quite realize or foresee how much their customers like said feature. 3) business releases a version of their product without said feature, to switch things up or for budgetary reasons or whatever. 4) customers go “hey what the hell, where’s that feature we like?!” and business is forced to 5) step back, reevaluate, and decide whether to stick with their original rollout or make a change to meet the demands and re-release the product with the feature that was missing.
Does that make sense? Idk… I guess I’m probably over-simplifying it, since one of the differences between the products released by a musician/idol and those released by a business is that there’s a lot of personal creativity and agency in the idol’s release. So criticism of it can come off like disrespect/distrust/hate for the artist themself. However, I would like to note that a great deal of creativity and passion goes into many, many products, and just because a large business produces them doesn’t mean that a lot of individual artists and creators and businesspeople weren’t behind the scenes, busting their asses only to be disappointed when they see the consumer reactions, which are oftentimes not as open to innovation and change as the artists were hoping. They experience that pain too, they’re just not precious, beloved idols so nobody really takes it upon themselves to defend them, and they pretty much only have their partners and work friends to mope to about it over drinks at happy hour.
And that brings up another interesting point; people seem to be defending Hobi on the basis that any ARMY who demanded a physical album are questioning his creativity/validity as an artist and making him feel bad and in general being shitty, entitled, ungrateful fans. In other words, they’re defending him as a creative person, not as a business person. Cause it could be argued that not releasing a physical album was, in hindsight, just not a great business decision. And he realized that later on, and, like his letter said, had to decide whether he wanted to stay the course or make a “better late than never” change.
[sidenote: I read the translation in its entirety, and I’m not seeing the agonizing heartbreak that others seem to be seeing? I’m seeing the honest explanation of a creative who made a bold move and is realizing — with some disappointment — that his audience wasn’t as appreciative as he hoped they’d be, and he’s making a course correction…? But maybe I’m too steeped in the corporate world to see this as the soul-wrenching sob story it apparently is??]
The reason I think it’s interesting that people are defending him primarily as a creative person and not a business person is that a few weeks back my timeline was FULL of ARMY’s mocking and side-eyeing you know who — Doja Cat.
She made waves (again…) for essentially saying she didn’t “love” her fans cause she doesn’t know them. And my TL was flooded with people smugly saying “it’s just a bad business decision to alienate your fans like that” while simultaneously sharing clips of BTS and their very demonstrative love for ARMY while gloating “can’t relate 😇”. Which begs the question — are BTS’s expressions of love for ARMY personal, or are they just good business?
I’m not saying that to be cynical, I’m saying it because Doja Cat (and I’m not an apologist for her by any means, but it’s a timely reference) was apparently a foolish businesswoman for making statements that made her fans mad. And Hobi is apparently a poor, wounded creative soul for making a decision that made his fans mad…?
Now, making inflammatory statements like “I don’t know those ppl” when referring to your loyal fans and not releasing a physical version of an album are two WILDLY different things and I understand that. I am not trying to conflate the two, more just noticing when and how we, as a fandom, choose to refer to famous musicians as “businesspeople” and when we don’t. When Doja spurns her fans, it’s a dumb business move. When BTS says they love their fans, it’s because they’re super duper sweethearts who love us forever. When Hobi makes a call for his album that a lot of fans disagree with, voicing that disagreement is suddenly hate and harassment for the artist you’re supposed to love, rather than consumer backlash.
I say this not having seen the harassment myself, but I also didn’t look for it. I saw people expressing disappointment, frustration, even that classic paranoia that all ARMY seem to have these days (“he’s being mistreated!”). So if there were genuine threats, hate, and vile behavior that crossed the line (and sadly, in this fandom, there probably was) then I think calling that out and saying “WTF is wrong with you people?!?!” is more than justified.
But when I see people scold, lecture, and attack others for clamoring for a physical album and being overjoyed when their cries were answered, I just think…. You must not work in the consumer goods industry. Cause this shit isn’t that unusual. 🤷♀️
Tell me how I’m wrong? I’m totally open to respectfully chatting. Just kinda had to get it out of my head.
12 notes
·
View notes
Photo
It has been far too long since I wrote one of these. I’ve gotten out of the habit. I’m also out of the habit of reading thoroughly in the way I long to, and best enjoy. It is thorough reading that lends itself to these reflective writing pieces, to tracking my thought process about a book. I have been in the habit of rushing through books for my book clubs during the busy school year. With the advent of summer break, I hope to return to that depth of reading and reflection. Let’s start with The Vegetarian.
I read this because I loved (and was disturb, challenged, and changed by) Human Acts. Han Kang has a new book out that I hope to read this summer as well. This book has much of the same dream-like thinking, gritty realism, complex psychology, and weighty symbolism that made Human Acts so compelling. Like Human Acts, the choices around narrative point of view (who tells their story and whose story gets told) feel deliberate, strategic, and powerful. This book felt a bit less mature as a novel than Human Acts, which makes sense given it’s an earlier work by Han Kang. I felt that the framework of metaphor and meaning was a bit harder to piece together here. There were more different loose threads and more questions remaining for the reader at the end of the book. I left the novel wanting just a bit more clarity, of the type that I had gotten from Human Acts.
That being stated, there was so much in this novel that was evocative and memorable, and which will stick with me—as imagery, as emotions, as concepts—over the years.
We begin with Yeong-hye’s dream. It’s the dream that moves her to stop eating meat early in the novel. The nature of this dream is revealed only in fragments, as Yeong-hye’s narrative point of view is never included (she is never given a voice, in her own story). In fragments scattered among her husband’s narration, we see parts of dreams (some of which, I later realized, draw on real memories from her childhood). This left me unsure of what Yeong-hye’s dream really was: the dog dragged in circles after her father’s motorcycle until death (later, it’s clear this is a memory)? A strange moment of cannibalism (bodies in a barn, teeth sinking into flesh)? A face in pain that repeatedly confronts her? The weight of all the dead things she has eaten settling over her heart, their bodies in her body? The dream that changes Yeong-hye could be all of these things, one of them, or none. The brutality in all these images is clear.
I deeply internalized this early explanation of Yeong-hye’s vegetarianism because it is—bizarrely, incredibly—exactly like my story. I became a vegetarian more than 13 years ago after a dream. I woke up the next day and I never ate meat again. Full stop. I have a different explanation I often give for my vegetarianism: that week, my town’s last small farm (one where my family had often volunteered our work efforts, and where we had befriended the generational farmer) went out of business. No longer able to survive as a small-scale, local operation in the face of climbing costs and competition from factory farms, the farmer went bankrupt. She needed to get rid of all her animals—about 200 sheep and 200 chickens, and 100 cattle—in 48 hours. My mom and I had helped with this, strategizing together, and my mom made phone calls to plead with people we knew to take some of these animals, so not every one would be sent to slaughter. This experience forms the backbone of my vegetarianism. Despite raising sheep and seeing other 4-H kids sending animals to slaughter, I understood that the real enemy was the factory farm operations in which animals were raised cruelly and unsustainably in order to drive down costs. I wanted to practice what I preached and one small way to do that was to not eat products I knew were coming out of the factory farming system.
This is the rational explanation I give about my conversion to vegetarianism. Even from myself, at times, I think I have hidden away the dream. The dream is what really changed me because—in the dream—I felt everything. I understood the horror of the factory farm on an emotional, not a rational, level. My dream feels hard to explain or share because words don’t adequately capture what it felt like, still so vivid in my memory all these years later. When the topic of my vegetarianism arises, I spend a lot of time not looking at my dream directly. In my dream, I was in a warm, dark space. There was the breathing of hundreds of other animals all around me. I could feel their presences and their bodies pressing in around me. I’m not sure what form my own body took, but I perceived the dream from the eye-level of the other animals. Among them, I felt a kind of individual invisibility, a kind of blended “togetherness.” But then, I suddenly understood what was coming. I saw with crystalline horror the future just in front of us, as we were being funneled out of this dark enclosure and slaughtered. Sliced at our soft throats, second jaws gapping, dangling. I could smell the blood. I could feel the deep terror in my body, like a cramping pain inside me. The certainty of death washed over me, and the need to stand in that certainty, to just anticipate it. I woke up, shocked awake.
The impossibility of adequately explaining how this dream felt to me, and how I woke up changed from it, makes the early fragmentation of The Vegetarian accessible to me. What is it to try to articulate the dream that redirected an essential thing? It’s better for us, the readers, to stay guessing a bit about what, exactly, is the dream. Anything less than this would feel cheap.
Yet, this novel, it quickly becomes clear, is not really about vegetarianism. Unlike Yeong-hye, my conversion to vegetarianism went that far and no farther. Yes, I know the people in my life responded much better than Yeong-hye’s did (in fact, all my immediate family members subsequently became vegetarians), but Yeong-hye enacts a complete disengagement with the exploitative world humans inhabit and normalize on a daily basis. What is this book really about? It’s about control, and gender. It’s about obsession, and art, and self-awareness. It’s about power, and nature, and what makes a life worth living (or ending).
The three narrators—Yeong-hye’s husband Mr. Cheong, Yeong-hye’s brother-in-law, and Yeong-hye’s sister In-hye—play out different responses, different levels of understanding, and different personal battles in the face of Yeong-hye’s increasing mental, emotional, and physical deterioration. While a key theme across the Han Kang books I’ve read is the problematic nature and impacts of the patriarchy (the violence, both physical and psychological, that men are permitted to enact on women), I felt a surprising amount of sympathy of a key male figure in this text: Yeong-hye’s brother-in-law. While Yeong-hye’s husband’s narration is repulsive in its dismissiveness of Yeong-hye’s inner life and personal experiences, and Yeong-hye’s father is revealed to be a key abuser in her childhood, Yeong-hye’s dynamic with her brother-in-law—while problematic—felt more mutually painful to me as a reader. I mention this because the brother-in-law’s narration feels like an area in the book of incredible nuance worthy of discussion. While it would be difficult to disagree about the problematic and outright morally wrong role of Yeong-hye’s husband and father, the role her brother-in-law plays is more complex. In-hye’s horror at discovering her husband and sister’s affair seems fully justified. She seems right to perceive her husband as taking advantage of her sister as her sister descends into madness. However, the brother-in-law seems to exhibit some striking similarities to Yeong-hye in a way that unites and binds them together. His obsession with the image of her Mongolian mark, and the flowers blooming on her, feels reminiscent of her obsession with the face from her dreams. An obsessive image is destroying him (his destruction includes that of his family, his role in his family, and his societal obligations). Distraught with obsession, both characters have something they want to get from the other, something they believe can be achieved by their union: relief. Viewed in this light, the brother-in-law seems as powerless in their affair as Yeong-hye does. Both are desperate, helpless, and mentally overwhelmed to the point of making choices they would not have made under normal circumstances. This feels like interesting commentary on human psychology, on the lengths we are willing to go to alleviate mental suffering, to distract or regain control of our own minds.
During this section of the novel, I wondered whether this brand of “vegetarianism” (obsession with plants, becoming plant-like oneself) could spreading from Yeong-hye to her brother-in-law. I tried to remember (and later Googled) the kind of fungus that inhabits and controls the human brain (turns out, this is only in Science Fiction…) This infectious plant theory feels like a too-literal explanation for a more figurative arc of the novel: what does it mean to consume or be consumed? What are all the different ramifications of consumption, of eating? In the third part of the novel, there is a similar expansion of Yeong-hye’s mental state to include and impact the person closest to her. In-hye’s does not understand her sister’s condition immediately or easily. She struggles to relate to her sister when she, herself, puts “making it work” and “holding things together” above all things in her life. But she comes to understand as she visits her dying sister in the mental hospitality and witnesses the cruelty of stripping Yeong-hye of her agency, of trying to force her back into life by maintaining her body, when it’s her will to live that is being squashed. As In-hye watches doctors force-fed her sister who refuses to eat, she sees the shadows of their past in which she choose stability over freedom (she chose to return herself and her sister to their abusive father, rather than run). She finally truly sees her sister’s transformation, and longing to change states and forms, the way she is “armored by the power of her own renunciation” of meat and, in this armor—like thick skin, like bark—Yeong-hye becomes incredibly plant-like (and increasingly free from her own mind/subjected to the consumption of others). The proximity of nature, the closeness of tree and woman, returns throughout this novel. Yeong-hye insists she does not need to eat, as she—like a tree—feeds from the sunlight. Her choice to not eat meat eventually becomes a choice to not eat at all, or to not eat in the way we humans understand eating…which involves consumption and eradication, rather than transformation.
There are several central images that, as I’ve mentioned, will remain with me. The death of the dog, both memory and dream, is one of these, as Han Kang is excellent at creating literal imagery with powerful metaphorical and philosophical resonance. This brutal scene immediately called to mind Achilles dragging Hector’s body around the walls of Troy, the public viciousness enacted by the victor, the visibility of brutality that is part of the process of control. It is not the same as violence conducted in secret. It is both more honest and more deeply performative. The second wave of metaphorical echo that flowed over me reading this scene was the Stations of the Cross, as Jesus carries the cross to his death and falls the first time, and falls the second time. This echo across the literary ages also highlights the brutality of humans (the acts of violence of which we are capable), but also the longing for redemption which is as fundamentally human as violence. Yeong-hye ate the dog meat. And, years later, her body seeks redemption, a kind of spiritual transformation, to purge that act of violence from the place in which it is held and remembered: the body. The physicality of Han Kang’s writing is as directly confrontational as I could imagine, and she pairs this physicality with deep moral complexity and nuance, so we are left seeking the meaning of these images that we—like Yeong-hye herself—cannot expunge from our minds.
#The Vegetarian#Han Kang#Human Acts#Vegetarianism#tw: descriptions of animal death#important reading#critiques of the patriarchy#South Korean Literature
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mathematical modeling
This was an essay I have written for a math course in college. It wasn’t supposed to get this way too personal, but the essay’s rubrics led me to it. I still wondered what my teacher thought of this one when he read this. I reckon it was second-hand embarrassment. However, reading this after seven years was an advice from a sophomore college student to an adult in her mid-20s.
Martha, my little sister, would usually chug her favorite drink from her cherry pink liquid container. It resembled a towering plastic mug with a straw of the similar shade and material sticking out of it. It was a post-birthday gift from her godparents just recently. She admired it real well – cleaning it even without me doing it for her. Then, she would constantly tell me about how astonishing it was. “It’s so cool, Ate. The cold water that I just put in would not easily go warm even when I place it outside the refrigerator,” she said with pure hype. Then I wondered why. I asked her to hand it over to me and I observed it intently. It was a familiar structure – a design of two flasks positioned one within the other and a gap between them. It was actually a vacuum flask commonly known to most households as the thermos.
“How does it do that?” She asked. She’s quite the inquisitive mind – asking questions about how certain contraptions like this worked – probably the reason why she aced her sciences at school. The thing is, her question of how reminded me that the world is full of phenomena. The phenomena that attracted many astounding inventors and scientists alike to model these situations and finding explanations to such. These scientists would also model these situations, modify it, and answer the problems in their line of work – eventually answering the problems of society too. Like this vacuum flask for instance: to answer for those who wanted cold lemonade on a summer’s day and warm brewed one-hundred percent Arabica coffee on a winter solstice for lengthened periods of time.
“Your mug tries to stop heat outside from going into it. That is why your water stays cold,” I answered my little 4th grade sister’s question the simplest way possible from what I’ve learned about insulators and heat transfer from previous knowledge. The gap between the two flasks that is moderately evacuated of air (or near-vacuum) actually serves as an insulator to prevent heat transfer by conduction and convection. At least that was what I knew of. I then wanted to research more about this contraption. And boy was it getting a little bit more interesting. The thermos spoken of was actually an invention of someone by name Sir James Dewar. He was a Scottish chemist and physicist. His study in the field of cryogenics (one field in physics in the study and behavior of certain materials at low temperatures) greatly influenced the invention of this device. Side track to other of his discoveries was also the invention of liquid hydrogen – the coldest substance ever made during his time. Cooling gas like hydrogen to a point wherein it would liquefy was actually pricey during his time and he needed to find a way to prevent it from evaporating. One news article about the history of his invention stated that he built boxes insulated with cork, hay, and newspaper to keep the liquid hydrogen cold but none of these kept it cool enough. It eventually led him to designing a double-walled brass chamber, removing the air from the gap between the two walls to create a near-vacuum void. As he placed liquid inside the flask, the temperature stayed the same because air molecules cannot serve any longer to transfer heat from the surroundings to the liquid inside the chamber. This idea by Dewar led to greater inventions. His idea was modified and modernized to be used as storage for super-cooled gases to gear up space rockets. These modern Dewar chambers can actually keep cooled gases cold for three years! This was one of the greatest innovations and applications of Dewar’s idea.
From this simple idea, many applications served its purpose today – including Martha’s mug. Now, I’ve been thinking: What could have been done by Sir Dewar to be able to engineer this vessel for keeping gases cooled? My hypothesis: he could’ve modeled it. He was a physicist and a chemist after all (close to being a chemical engineer when both fields are combined), so he could’ve quantified the amount of heat loss and gain and used ways to modify this chamber so that the amount of heat loss and heat gain would equate to zero. This kind of reminded me of the modeling exercises we had in class about energy balances. I’ve read more about his vacuum flask contraption and was aghast (in a seemingly good way) by the way heat transfer by convection, conduction, and radiation in the flask could be analyzed by math and physics through thermodynamics. Generally, everything in the flask – from the heat capacity of the material to the temperature of the liquid stored to the specific heat – is quantified and modeled!
I then sat down on my chair and contemplated. I declared, “Math is a language too.” Epiphany capsized my sentiments on mathematics knowing that it can actually be used to translate a lot of phenomena. Mathematical modeling and mathematics in general changes the development of the society and the world. And in fact is a great impact in our lives.
Contrary to the previous paragraph, I’d be honest. I hate math, actually. And you’d be wondering now why I took up engineering. It’s normal for me anyway. I took up engineering, specifically Chemical Engineering, for the purpose of trying to appreciate the mathematics more. Many people actually think illogically of me after notifying them that I took it up because of my hatred for mathematics and my love for Chemistry. If you’d see my grades right now on my record, I barely had passing grades for all my math courses. So I couldn’t say I excel in my mathematical ability but am just good enough. Ever since I encountered the subject and idea of it, I’d shun it.
Even answered the portion that says “Least favorite subject” in the slam books of my friends when I was younger – Math. Probably this loathing attitude on the subject led me to failure in most of my exams to date. To evaluate my mathematical ability now, I can’t make up the standards of a good engineer – one who has the passion to solve problems quantitatively. One afternoon at a mall, along a stand of the Famous Belgian Waffles, sat me and my dad. It was the 2nd of April, a Saturday. We ordered two waffles for each and talked about some of the things I’ve been struggling in my life as a chemical engineering student. One of which is my struggle in this differential equations course. My dad’s a wise guy. And practically one of my life coaches. As I opened up my problem in the math course, he retorted, “Why do you have to force yourself into it when you don’t have the passion to do it at all?” I then took note of the word passion. Many people would scare me that the practice of chemical engineering is the hardest among all disciplines. But in my case, I guess not. It’s not that it isn’t difficult for me; it’s just that, I lack the passion to get myself to appreciate it.
He then elaborated one of two things: first about the Seven Basic Habits of Highly Effective
People by Stephen Covey and emphasized on the second habit which was: “Begin with the end in mind.” I remembered my instructor mentioning about this during the first week of classes but I didn’t practically mind it at all. Now that all has come to pass, I regretted not putting into heart this essential habit. I didn’t have an end to this in mind at all and allowed myself to just roll with it. And go with the flow. “You did not begin with the end in mind,” were the words my dad said. I was in on a sermon this time after having thoughts of shifting to another discipline that is more appropriate for me. Flashback to the time that this didn’t happen yet, I had several drawbacks. When it comes to improving in my mathematical ability, I failed. Though I had garnered some skills from the past courses in the field of engineering mathematics, one thing I failed doing is this – task management. This course was a breeze to some because they managed their tasks properly. As for myself, I never did spend time in doing the most important thing in this course – practice. I do practice at some points in this semester but once I can’t answer a certain problem in the Succeeding with Differential Equations textbook, I tend to withdraw from doing more practice. I had my mind set on doing what needs to be done but when there is a hurdle along my way, I retreat. I surrender. I easily gave up on certain circumstances and my dad evaluated that the attitude of surrender wouldn’t make me become successful one day.
Second thing he elaborated about was the nature of result. “Intention plus mechanism is equal to result,” he said. I then thought about it: What was my intention? What was the thing that I did to add up to my intention? Or did I have any intention at all? Did I do something about it? I did have my intentions, yes and that was to be able to model and solve problems and use the mathematical tools to be able to do such. However, I stumbled upon a block when I did not do anything about it at all. If I did, only a minimal amount of it. After roughly four months of compromise, I reap no good result. I failed miserably in the formative assessment of my understanding and modeling with problems.
My dad delivered a long sermon about the things I failed to do this semester and particularly this course but these were what remained in memory after finishing the last of my snack. The last thing he said to me was, “Read a lot of books. I regretted doing this when I was younger but I believe I’m not too old for reading. It would really enhance your knowledge and guiding principles…” This was one thing I also regretted doing – reading books. I recalled reading in the syllabus Read Zill and Wright pp. so-on-and-so-forth. But I disregarded it. I guess if I have read more, I would understand better.
But I think he didn’t only mean supplementary books for studying but also inspirational books like some of John C. Maxwell’s, Stephen Covey’s, and Harold Sala’s. And above all the daily guiding principle found in God’s word, the Bible.
“…and don’t forget to apply what you have read in your life.” Not only did he mean the inspirational books but even the textbooks found in the library. So far, I believe this is the best concept of modeling – translating what you have read into practice.
Regrets and realizations. I did have a heavy load of both. Though this would probably be the end of this semester, the heavy load that I have right now would be a continuing schema to this lifelong learning experience. And Stephen Covey calls it the seventh habit: “Sharpening the saw”.
#math#modeling#realizations#regrets#engineering#practice#reallife#thermos#james dewar#differential#equations
0 notes
Text
Pyrrha Dve and Pyrrha of Thessaly: Survivors of the Flood
“If I’m God, I can start over. The flood, you know? You can wash things clean. That’s all the end of Earth was … making things clean.” --Nona the Ninth, p. 435
“You want Gideon the First, and Gideon the First is dead. He’s not coming back. Oh, God, Gideon,” said Pyrrha, suddenly. “Gideon … G—, you died for nothing.” --Nona the Ninth, p. 390
tl;dr: Pyrrha Dve shares a name with Pyrrha of Thessaly, one of the only two survivors of Zeus’s great deluge in Greek myth, which might connect to why Pyrrha alone seems to remember G1deon’s real name from before Jod’s “flood.” Unpacking this allusion brings to light other suggestive parallels between the two Pyrrhas’ stories, including:
Zeus and Jod’s destruction of the Earth with the intent to replace flawed humanity with a new, pious version of humankind who would worship them as gods
how the Greek Pyrrha survives without Zeus’s knowledge by hiding in her husband’s “chest” (sound like someone we know?)
Pyrrha of Thessaly’s role in repopulating Earth by disturbing her “mother” Gaia’s grave and casting her bones (aka stones) to the ground, from which arose the new human beings (who else disturbs “Earth’s” Tomb?)
and some other more out-there parallels, including a connection to the tower in the River; some thoughts on Zeus, Jod, and cannibalism; a verrrry tangential connection between Pyrrha and Gideon Nav; and thoughts on other survivors
So, following the release of Nona the Ninth, we’re now all familiar with Jod’s conception of the end of the Earth as a literalization of the flood myth with him as God. Afterwards, he claims he brought back all his friends without their memories – and, based on his discussion of renaming Ulysses and Titania and the fact that the Lyctors’ old names are all dashed out, many of us have assumed with new names. But somehow, Pyrrha Dve seems to remember her necromancer’s original name. What’s going on with that?
I don’t have an explanation, but I do have a very interesting parallel, which is almost entirely not the same thing while still justifying writing meta! :P (I mean, if you’re looking for an explanation, my best guess is that Jod talks about altering memory through changing the brain’s biological structures, suggesting that the soul still remains a blind spot of his. Pyrrha no longer has her physical corporation/brain and is solely existing in Gideon’s body, so maybe there’s something there? Soul memories, idk lol.)
Lots of past meta I’ve seen about Pyrrha Dve’s name has focused on Pyrrhus of Epirus, who gave his name to the term “Pyrrhic victory”: a victory whose losses were so severe as to call into question whether such a “victory” was really worth it at all. On that reading, Pyrrha’s name is a nod to how attaining Lyctorhood was a Pyrrhic victory for Gideon and the other Lyctors, because they had to sacrifice their most beloved companions (brother, wife, best friend, etc.) to achieve this “lesser”/imperfect Lyctorhood. I’ve also definitely seen people point out how the name Pyrrha itself comes from the Greek adjective “πυρρός”, which can mean flame-colored or redheaded: clearly apt for our girl/my wife Pyrrha. I think all of that is right, and also I think tazmuir was drawing on yet another mythological parallel for Pyrrha’s name: that of Pyrrha of Thessaly, survivor of the Flood.
Pyrrha of Thessaly and Pyrrha Dve
In Greek myth (well, more or less, depending on the version – I’m quoting Dryden’s Ovid here, so Roman reception, but I’ll stick with Zeus to make things easier), Zeus decides to wipe the Earth clean after judging humanity irredeemable. When he shares this plan, the other gods immediately complain that, should he destroy humankind, “Neglected altars must no longer smoke,/If none were left to worship, and invoke.” Interestingly, he immediately reassures them: “Lay that unnecessary fear aside:/Mine be the care, new people to provide./I will from wondrous principles ordain/A race unlike the first, and try my skill again.” In other words, after the cleansing flood, he’s going to create a new crop humanity to worship him and his pantheon at those neglected altars … sound like anyone we know yet?
However! Two humans survive Zeus’s deluge: Deucalion, ruler of Phthia in Thessaly, and his wife Pyrrha. Here’s where it gets especially intriguing, because depending on the version you read, this Greek Noah and his wife survive for different reasons! Ovid’s Metamorphoses has them surviving because they’re the two best people around – the most holy, upright, worthy, etc. But in other accounts, such as that in the Bibliotheca of Pseudo-Apollodorus, they actually sort of sneak past Zeus. Deucalion’s father is the Titan Prometheus (whom you may remember from other Zeus-defying escapades like “giving humanity fire”), and Prometheus instructs Deucalion on how to build and provision a chest that will survive the flood. Thus, when Zeus goes to destroy humanity, Pyrrha survives inside Deucalion’s chest until the flood ends and the two reach dry land and propitiate Zeus. (OK, so it’s an actual physical wooden trunk, BUT ALSO Pyrrha survives by hiding in her husband’s chest I’m just saying.)
After surviving, the two ask the gods (usually Zeus through an intermediary) how to repopulate the planet. They are told to “throw … your mighty mother’s bones” to the ground – a suggestion that horrifies Pyrrha, who refuses to defile her mother’s grave, crying out, “Forbid it Heav’n, said she, that I shou’d tear/Those holy reliques from the sepulcher” (we’re back to quoting Ovid here btw). But after carefully pondering their instructions, they find a different meaning: perhaps, Deucalion suggests, “This Earth our mighty mother is, the stones/In her capacious body, are her bones.” So they gather up “Gaia’s bones”, i.e. rocks from the ground, and when they cast those stones behind them, new human beings spring up from where they fall.
Pyrrha’s calling Gaia her mother, her disturbing Gaia’s remains from their “sepulcher,” and Gaia’s “bones” repopulating the Earth are all very interesting! It probably goes without saying that there’s a Gaia-Alecto connection here (in fact, I think you could even say John makes that connection fully textual when he calls himself John Gaius, if you read it as a Lyctoral name). I read the Greek Pyrrha’s identifying Gaia as her mother as a neat inversion of the parental relationship between Pyrrha and Nona (note that in the myth, Gaia isn’t Pyrrha’s actual mother – that’s Pandora, while her dad is Prometheus’s brother, Epimetheus (which technically makes Gaia her paternal great-grandmother)). Our Pyrrha is, obviously, involved in unearthing (heh) Alecto’s body from the Tomb, just as the Greek Pyrrha felt she was being called to disturb her mother/Gaia’s resting place.
Alecto the Ninth Speculation: Gaia’s Bones and the Resurrection
All of the above I think is reasonably textually supported, but with the last “parallel” – the repopulation of the planet from Gaia’s bones – I’m going to step off the deep end, lol, and move away from literary analysis of existing parts of TLT to pure speculation about the future. First off, the key caveat is that, obviously, I don’t think Tamsyn Muir is trying to write a literal beat for beat version of the Greek flood myth with Pyrrha Dve, so I think the actual likeliest explanation here is that the actual limit of Pyrrha Dve’s connection to Pyrrha of Thessaly is just that both (sort of) survived their respective divine “floods.” But I do have a couple thoughts about directions that “Gaia’s bones” and the resurrection could point at, which I’ll list roughly from most to least likely; and I’m also interested in hearing others’ ideas.
I think this parallel could pay off in one of two directions: either the Resurrection in the past or something in the future, in Alecto, involving a collaboration between Nona/Alecto and Pyrrha. In the past, we obviously don’t know yet how the Resurrection actually went – John’s confession in Harrow’s Alecto-dreams didn’t extend that far – but it’s easier to speculate (and to pick out speculative parallels). It certainly seems apparent that Jod’s going to be majorly drawing on Alecto’s power to do it – just as Zeus claimed he was creating a whole new crop of humanity to worship him, but was actually digging up Gaia’s bones to make the magic happen. Making bodies from earth and stones is a classic mythic motif, so I don’t think the Pyrrha flood myth is necessarily being referenced here, but there sure is something neat about John’s making Alecto’s body “from the dirt, my blood, my vomit, my bone.” Beyond that, some versions of the Greek flood myth suggest that humanity’s nature was changed by being reborn from stones, with Ovid writing, “Hence we derive our nature; born to bear/Laborious life; and harden’d into care” (the Greeks were generally huge fans of the pun possibilities between λαός (people) and λᾶας (stone)). You could maybe connect that to the suggestion that there seems to be something slightly off in Jod’s new version of people – the sickliness that affects necromancers? (I don’t think that’s quite right, though, because you’d expect stones to be harder, not brittler and easier to break.)
But the myth isn’t just about how Zeus uses Gaia’s bones to resurrect humanity – it’s also about how Pyrrha and her partner (Deucalion/G1deon) bring back humanity. Maybe the importance of Deucalion in revitalizing humanity via Gaia could pay off if it turns out G1deon has a key role in the Resurrection (Jod keeps talking about how he has “big plans” for Gideon’s arm, and he even says that “G—’ll be easiest” to bring back, although in context I think he just means that he won’t have to wipe as much of his memory because he wasn’t even at the compound)? I think that’s a reach, though, and that the arm is just important so he has biomaterial on hand (lol). But the reachiest possible connection here is to say that maybe Pyrrha’s going to play a role in some future Resurrection: something in Alecto the Ninth that resolves Jod’s “missing math” (the people he didn’t bring back, possibly the souls clogging up the river?) and brings more people back, or brings back people “correctly.” Certainly, in terms of any role Pyrrha could play in collaborating with Alecto/Gaia in something like a resurrection or rebirth of humanity in the next novel, it’s worth noting that she is now strongest remaining link from Alecto back to Nona, with all of Nona’s compassion and love.
Remaining Errata
OK, that’s all for immediate parallels from the meat of the Greek flood myth! But there are some remaining pieces of the myth that caught my attention, so those get to go at the end of this piece of meta.
The Tower
Whatever’s going on with the massive new Tower in the River is obviously going to be important! I have a LOT of thoughts about this, but that is for another meta. What I’ll say here is that, while I think the clearest reference there is to the Tower of Babel (what with Nona being the only person who can still understand all languages), another famous mytho-religious tower-y structure often identified with the Tower of Babel is the towering pile of mountains that the Greek Giants built to reach the gods when they tried to challenge Zeus et al. Per Ovid, observing the Giants’ building this tower was one of the things that made Zeus despair at the current state of the world and decide to set off the flood that Pyrrha survived in the first place.
Cannibalism
Other reasons Zeus was angry enough to flood the earth: eating human flesh! One of the impieties that drove Zeus to damn the first version of humanity was King Lycaon daring to test whether Zeus was truly omnipotent by serving him human flesh. Go on, dive in, I know y’all are thinking of that bit in Harrow where Jod says, “Ten thousand years since I’ve eaten human being, Harrow, and I didn’t really want an encore.”
Gideon Nav as Pyrrha Dve’s Achilles?
Finally, Phthia, which Deucalion and Pyrrha ruled, was later Achilles’s home. You could possibly say something here about our Pyrrha and G1deon as not-parents to Gideon, who ~invaded~ the planet of Priamhark Noniusvianus, just as Achilles invaded the city of Priam in the Trojan War. I think that’s probably squinting too hard, buttttt you could still make the case. Also, that takes us full circle back to the other Pyrrhus that Pyrrha could be named for, because Plutarch seems to suggest that Pyrrhus (he of the Pyrrhic victory) got his name from family tradition because Deucalion and Pyrrha were the first rulers after the flood in Epirus.
Other Flood survivors?
OK, I have no idea what to do with this piece, but obviously Pyrrha isn’t the only potential “survivor” of Jod’s “flood” – the fleeing trillionaires (or potentially other human outposts?), etc. Similarly, some versions of the Greek flood myth suggest that in addition to Pyrrha and Deucalion, a few other humans slip through, such as Cerambus, grandson of Poseidon. This seems kind of tangential, but hey, if someone named “Cerambus” shows up in AtN and seems to know a lot about Earth without Jod’s blessing, we should probably listen to him! ;)
Sources
Ovid’s Metamorphoses The Pseudo-Apollodorus Other Greek and Roman flood accounts overview Pyrrha and Deucalion in Greek and Roman writing On Pyrrha, Deucalion, stones, and puns
#tlt meta#pyrrha dve#john gaius#nona the nonth#alecto the ninth#gideon the first#alecto the first#nona#alecto speculation#nona the ninth spoilers#ntn spoilers#the locked tomb#the locked tomb meta#meta#pyrrha of thessaly#i have no idea what else to tag this. huh.#locked tomb
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
Voice headcanons for the comic characters:
Zib:
A slightly older Dib with a slightly older sounding voice (I headcanon that although Zib did kill his Zim at the age of twelve, the rest of his story leading up to his appearance in the Zimvoid took about four years, making him about sixteen years old by the time we see him). His voice also has a slightly mechanical sounding effect to it, which is the result of Zib’s attaching of Zim’s PAK to himself, along with the cybernetics he had to add to himself to make it possible in the first place.
Chammy Wamboo:
Pinkie Pie from MLP. I have no explanation, I just know that this is true in my bones. Just look at her and tell me I’m not correct.
Virooz:
Hal Stewart from Megamind but with a slightly mechanical effect to his voice, which is due to all the cybernetics he installed into himself. It just fits. Read this with the voice of Hal from Megamind and tell me it doesn’t.
Recap Kid:
I don’t have a solid answer for this one. I’ve sort of bounced between a whole bunch of voices for them, from the Collector from the Owl House to Skull Kid from Majora’s Mask, but none really stick for long.
I know for a fact that they wouldn’t sound completely human through, having the sort of otherworldly quality to their voice that Skull Kid, the Collector and Bill Cipher all have, while still sounding childlike. The Collector is close to what feels right, but isn’t quite there, almost like it’s just slightly to the left of what I’m thinking of.
If anyone has any ideas for what their voice sounds like, I’d love to hear it.
In fact, I’d love to hear your voice headcanons for any of the voiceless characters.
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
To be a Jedi - Anakin Skywalker x Reader
Request: “anakin/female!reader getting together fic that involves reader crying because she’s feeling self-conscious about her appearance and feeling worthless and anakin comforting her and calming her down and then accidentally confessing to her?”
Tags: @lothloriien
Warnings: self-deprecation, insecurities, etc. (~2,500 words)
~~~~~
Being a Jedi really sucked sometimes.
Not all the time. In fact, you normally enjoyed the fast-paced, demanding lifestyle you led. Even as a youngling you had taken pride in the ritual and responsibility of being a Jedi, and now, as a Padawan on the verge of facing the Jedi trials, you were more confident than ever that the Force had led you down the right path.
But that didn’t mean you didn’t have bad days every once in a while.
Your Master had been called away on some highly classified mission in the Naboo system, so you’d been spending the week at the Jedi Temple working on some independent research and participating in training sessions with the other senior Padawans. Unfortunately, they were focusing on lightsaber combat this week - something you were definitely not as skilled at considering your specialization in negotiation and communications.
It wasn’t that you were unathletic - you were training to be a Jedi for crying out loud - but it was hard not to feel a little self-conscious about how much you were struggling with the training exercises, especially when your assigned training partner was none other than Anakin Skywalker.
It was just past midday - you’d been training for hours already and still had a few to go. The sun was blaring down on the courtyard where you and the other Padawans were sparring under Obi-Wan’s supervision.
You panted heavily, eyeing Anakin as the two of you circled each other slowly. There was no question as to which one of you would launch the next parry - Anakin had taken the offensive right out of the gate - so all you could do was try to catch your breath and prepare yourself for his next attack.
His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, a few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and some of his hair sticking to his face. His eyes were following your every move, tracking you like you were some kind of prey.
You hated this.
Suddenly, Anakin lunged forward, blue lightsaber whirring loudly as he swung it towards you. You groaned, lifting your own lightsaber up at the last possible moment to deflect him.
“Such a slow reaction time,” Anakin teased, grinning as he stepped back to give himself a wider range of motion.
“I thought it would take you longer to catch your breath,” you replied, voice strained as you blocked another one of his strikes.
You’d been friends with Anakin since Obi-Wan took him as a Padawan years ago, offering to help him as he played “catch up” with the rest of you. The fact he’d become such a strong Force-user despite starting so late was something you deeply respected him for, though you were perfectly content simply watching him display these skills.
Being on the receiving end of a lightsaber attack from Anakin Skywalker was not something you would consider enjoyable. You’d spent the whole morning dodging and jumping and somehow still losing every match.
You flinched as Anakin’s lightsaber hit your torso, the sting of the “training mode” setting hurting far less than the sting of your own pride.
“Seven to one,” Obi-Wan called from where he was watching. You groaned, rubbing your temples with your free hand and turning your lightsaber off.
“Hey, you were definitely doing better than time,” Anakin said reassuringly, sensing your frustration. “Improvement is all Obi-Wan is looking for.”
“Improvement doesn’t take away from the fact I’ve lost seven matches today,” you seethed, bending down to re-tie the laces of your boots.
“Perhaps if you worked out a bit more you wouldn’t lose so often,” one of the other Padawans jested. Your head snapped up, face flushing as you sent them a pointed glare.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked curtly, watching them look between you and Anakin uncomfortably.
“It’s just-”
They didn’t get a chance to finish, letting out a small shriek as they dodged a rock flying through the air. You turned around to look at Anakin, his slightly raised hand indicating who’d been responsible for the rock. At least he was using his Force capabilities in your favor now.
“Thanks,” you muttered, reigniting your lightsaber, glancing at the clock above where Obi-Wan was sitting. All you wanted was for training to be over so you could retreat to your room.
“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Anakin said, a somewhat angry look on his face as he took a fighting stance across from you. “You’re perfectly capable of wielding a lightsaber, and you’d definitely beat them if you’d been paired up.”
“Hopefully,” you corrected him, “hopefully I’d beat them.”
“Definitely,” Anakin insisted, you rolling your eyes as you lifted your lightsaber in front of you.
----
What sucked about getting older was how little you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin. Your Master was responsible for conducting multiple research projects for the Jedi Council off-world, and Obi-Wan and Anakin hardly ever stayed on Coruscant for longer than a few days, so it was unlikely that you’d find yourselves in the same place for a decent amount of time anymore.
Normally, you would’ve used this week as a great opportunity to catch up with one of your oldest friends. This damn lightsaber training was getting in the way.
It had been yet another long day of sweating the equivalent of your own bodyweight and paling in comparison to Anakin’s abilities. Obi-Wan had focused on lightsaber combat in precarious and compromising situations, with one of which resulting in you falling off a two story rock wall.
As you stood in front of the mirror in your room you couldn’t overlook the spattering of bruises covering your torso and arms, all varying hues of blue and purple culminating from the last few days. You sighed, grateful you were getting the extra training you so clearly needed and nervous about what that meant. Imagine you’d been confronted by some Sith fanatic in the last few weeks - who knows how long you would’ve lasted?
Perhaps you were overthinking. You did have an extremely over-skilled training partner who made most other Jedi look incompetent with a lightsaber.
That being said, you still couldn’t shake what that other Padawan had said about you yesterday. Had you really become unathletic? You didn’t think you’d ever really neglected your daily training exercises, but perhaps those weren’t enough.
You sat down on the edge of your bed slowly, shoulder slumped. Maybe you weren’t as capable as you thought. The bruises all over you and lack of any actual visible muscle certainly pointed towards that.
----
The next morning, you skipped breakfast, giving Obi-Wan some offhanded explanation as to why you’d be missing training and heading for the library. You weren’t really skipping for no reason, your Master had given you a list of different research topics for you to look up in the Jedi Archives. Did you really need the extra time to get this done? No, but it still gave you a good excuse to avoid the feeling of physical incapability that accompanied your training sessions.
Plus, you didn’t want to slow the entire group down. Tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered yesterday when Obi-Wan made you repeat some dumb exercise on a floating raft over and over again, even though everyone else had already done it to his satisfaction. It was humiliating.
At least here in the library, surrounded by stacks of holograms and books, you were in your element. Here you didn’t have to move fast or chop anyone’s limb off out of self-defense.
It was sometime in the late afternoon when Anakin stormed into the library, loud footsteps immediately shushed by a swarm of librarians. You couldn’t help but grin softly, eyes meeting his as he marched over to you much more quietly.
“Even the great Anakin Skywalker is no match for an angry librarian,” you teased, him scoffing as he plopped down in a chair next to you.
“And where were you today?” Anakin asked, a strange intensity behind his question. You gulped, gesturing to the pile of transcripts and notes in front of you.
“I was right here,” you replied meekly.
“Since this morning?” he asked, eyes widening in surprise. You nodded.
“What the heck, Y/N,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Obi-Wan assigned me a different partner. Do you know how irritating every other Padawan is to train with?”
“No, I’ve only ever trained with you,” you said bluntly.
“Exactly!” Anakin responded a little too loudly, earning him a dramatic shush from the circulation desk.
“Shut up,” you chuckled, slapping his chest lightly. He rolled his eyes.
“What I mean is that I’ve only ever trained with you, too, so everyone else doesn’t live up to my expectations.”
“What expectations?” you asked quizzically, flipping one of your notebooks closed.
“Working hard but still having a good time,” he answered, waving his hand nonchalantly. “You never sacrifice good banter for anything, I value that.”
“Ah, I’m glad to know you only value me as a training partner for my humor,” you retorted dryly, gathering all your belongings into a pile and standing up. Anakin’s brows furrowed as he looked up at you, a confused look painted across his face.
“Hey, what?” he asked, standing up with you. “What happened?”
“Nothing, just makes sense that you only enjoy my conversation, not anything actually training-related.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, completely dumbfounded as you started walking away.
“See you tomorrow, Anakin,” you replied, refusing to shed any more tears until you reached your room.
----
The next morning you were too unmotivated to let Obi-Wan know you weren’t coming, deciding instead to stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. Well, you were reading, but what did that really matter to a Jedi? You were supposed to be able to do backflips through the air and take on five enemies at once, and yet here you were wrapped in two blankets feeling like absolute shit. Some Jedi you were.
You held your breath as someone began knocking furiously on the door, hoping desperately they would think you weren’t home.
“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” Anakin called. You groaned, turning around and smashing your face into the pillow.
“Y/N!” he called again.
“Don’t come in!” you shouted back, voice muffled through the pillow.
“I’m coming in.”
“Don’t-”
You never got the chance to finish, bolting upright in bed as the door flew open, Anakin stalking in. You rolled your eyes, just thankful he had kept the door on its hinges.
“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, cringing as you recoiled slightly at his harsh words.
“What do you mean?” you replied quietly, his face softening as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.
“I meant what’s wrong, not what’s wrong with you,” Anakin corrected, taking your hand in his own.
“Nothing’s wr-”
“Don’t give me that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even try, I know you better than anyone Y/N, what’s wrong?”
You kept quiet, focusing on the way his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.
“You’ve been acting off since we started training together, is it something I did?” he tried again, genuinely concerned. You laughed dryly and shook your head.
“No, Anakin, you didn’t do anything,” you replied truthfully, looking at him. “You’re perfect, I promise you did nothing wrong.” He gave you a small smile, looking down to where he was still holding your hand. He didn’t let go, only gripped you a little tighter, urging you to continue. You bit your lip, debating whether or not to tell him.
“Do you remember when that Padawan told me I needed to exercise more?” you asked finally. His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours.
“I knew it,” he murmured, nostrils flaring as he tried (and failed) to conceal his budding anger. “I knew it.”
“Anakin it’s ok,” you said, reaching out and rubbing his forearm, his gaze following your hand. “I mean, they were right, if I-”
“No,” Anakin said. “No, they weren’t right. They have no idea how strong you are, how capable-”
“Anakin I’ve struggled this entire week,” you blurted, eyes stinging and face heating up. “I pale in comparison to you, and the other Padawans, at least physically. I thought whatever training I’d been doing had been enough but clearly it wasn’t, so they’re right. I need to exercise more, I need to train more, I’m incapable of defending myself with a lightsaber and I don’t even look like a proper Jedi.” You thrust your bruised arms out towards him. “Look at these, you don’t have them, no one else does. I’m the only one who struggles with every exercise and test.”
You realized you’d begun to cry, tears rolling down your face and breaths shallow.
“Y/N,” Anakin murmured, hurt in his eyes as he took your arms gingerly in his hands. “Y/N, no.”
Your eyes widened as Anakin bent over, slowly pressing his mouth to each bruise on your forearms. You gulped, feeling a little dizzy as Anakin glanced up at you. “You’re an amazing Jedi,” he started, sitting back up straight and pulling you closer to him. You tried to pull away, not wanting to stain his robes with your tears, but he held you firmly. “You’re already stronger than half the people in that group, I’ll have Obi-Wan reassign you so you can kick someone’s ass and everyone will realize it.”
“Anakin-”
He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You closed your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his body against yours.
“There’s more to being a Jedi than using a lightsaber, anyways,” he continued. “You’re the only person our age in this whole temple that can negotiate with warlords and thieves and murderers and still come back unscathed with five new friends.”
You chuckled, biting your lip as he pressed a kiss against your hair.
“You’re perfect, Y/N,” he insisted softly, you shifting in his arms to gaze up at him.
You were surprised by how nervous he looked, as if he didn’t know how you’d react to what he’d just said, what he’d just implied. You just smiled softly, leaning up to press a slow kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you, Anakin,” you mumbled against his face, grinning as you felt him smile.
Suddenly he pushed himself up, forcing you down onto the bed and collapsing on top of you. You shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles as he began nestling himself in your hair.
“Shouldn’t you still be at training?” you asked, a wide smile on your face.
“I was sent here by Obi-Wan to fetch you,” he replied smugly.
“So shouldn’t we both be getting back then?”
He propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at you with a cocky smile on his face.
“I never told him when I’d be coming back.”
You decided you could afford to skip training another day - Anakin probably needed the rest anyways - and pulled his face down to meet your own.
#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#anakin imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x you#star wars fanfiction
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
Enthralled with the idea of Danny from Danny legit dies and has a physical corpse but can still kinda be human au and the Winchesters from just regular canon bumping into each other while... hiding bodies.
Three teens carrying a fourth by his arms and legs into the woods. Would they even be able to tell that it’s Danny’s corpse? It’s gotta be pretty much cooked through at that point. Hold on, I’m going to write something rq, apologies for any mistakes/bad writing but the concept is just too fun. If you think so too, go ahead and try your hand at it, this has so many excellent interpretations.
Edit but not really cuz I haven’t actually posted anything yet: I’ve only read back through this once but I’m pretty happy with how it’s turned out, just wanted to add a quick warning for horrific death and descriptions of a corpse and all that.
--
Digging graves always sucked, naturally. It’s hard to plow through a good six feet of rocks and dirt and bones and whatever other crap might be waiting below the surface (one time, in some backwoods in Ohio they’d hit a bathtub around three feet down. Never got an explanation for that one). But, of course, the muggy pits of July made things much worse.
Sam had shed his top layer in the car, and was now down to a single shirt. He probably would’ve taken that off too, had it not been glued onto his back from sweat. Dean, who’d made a dig at Sam earlier that night for not being able to “take the heat like a man” still wore his flannel over his shirt, though it was beginning to soak through.
Laborious elements aside, what really made grave digging so tedious was the inability to fill it with anything else. It wasn’t like they could play music or anything, when they were in graveyards they had to keep a low profile, and all the other smart places to go hiding a corpse don’t get radio reception. And talking? With the amount of dust and dirt they kicked up, not to mention the work itself, it was more like trying to reason with a bully as they threw sand in your face. Gritty, painful, and overall, not worth it. So the brothers dug side by side with only light from a half-dead camping lantern and the singing of insects to keep them company.
Sam hit a rock with the tip of his shovel to knock it loose from the wall, the scooped it up and heaved it over the side of the grave. It was still only about knee height, meaning they’d have to put in another two hours minimum if they wanted to get the man hidden.
He’d been working with a witch to dodge death as he cheated his way through some shady business dealings. Actually, he’d been fairly easy to subdue- probably why he needed the witch in the first place- but once Dean had yanked the hexbag from where it hung around his stick-figure neck he’d begun to convulse and when he stopped, well, he wasn’t going to start convulsing again. That, however, was a problem for tomorrow.
Sam knocked a few rocks loose this time, letting them pile around his feet then launching them all over his shoulder at once. With the sound of metal clacking against rock gone, he realized Dean had stopped digging and was leaning against the handle of his shovel cautiously looking out into the woods. Sam moved in next to him and tried to figure out where he was looking.
“What are y-“ he asked. Dean shushed him before he could finish, then signaled for him to listen and pointed just past a thick bramble, to a gap between two trees. It would’ve been impossible to spot without years of hunting experience, out about 100 yards away were little moving. They weren’t even shadows, it was simply just movement in the dark. “Dude-“
Dean shushed him again, and shot him a dirty look before pointing more forcefully in the direction of the movement and focusing back in place. He gestured once again for Sam to listen. For a few moments they stood in silence, barely breathing. It was faint, but Sam began to make out what was unmistakably English. a dull beam of light swung around towards them then went back to facing the other direction, effectively re-blacking out the figures. Sam reached back, not taking his eyes off the movement, and now occasional glimpses of light, and snapped off the lantern.
It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the dark. Once they could see each other again, Dean tilted his head to the left, pointed a few times with two fingers in a two directions then held one finger against his mouth. Sam nodded and they both began creeping in opposite directions with the intention of surrounding who or what was having a chat out in the woods at night.
Sam moved as if he were gliding above the forest floor. He could vaguely make out Dean doing the same, though he was now could see Dean about as well as he’d been able to see the... three? He hovered further. Definitely three people (or, by his guess witches), earlier. Now that he was getting closer, though, he began to take note of a few things.
There were three short witches(?) standing fanned out around something slumped on the forest floor, their dying halogen flashlight held limp in one of their hands, flickering sadly. The witch farthest from flashlight-witch and closest to Sam held a shovel, though didn’t make any moves to use it. None of them moved, they all just stood there and stared at whatever was at their feet.
He signaled to Dean that he was going to go in from the front. He was pretty sure he saw the shadows nod to him, so he took that as an okay. Like a mouse on cotton, he positioned himself just far enough into the forest that they couldn’t quite see, Dean doing the same but behind them.
“I- What do we do?” the one holding the flashlight muttered. His nose was awfully clogged, it sounded like he’d been crying.
“I don’t know, Tuck.” The one holding the shovel answered. She also sounded upset, but more like she was doing everything she could to push back tears, a tone that Sam knew very well. “Danny, are you sure you wanna do this?”
The one in the middle, Danny, shook his head. Each of his arms reached across his middle, like he was trying to hug himself, or maybe more like he was trying to make himself look small, trying to hide. “I-“ his voice cracked and he let out a few sobs. The leaves and sticks made a simultaneous crack as he fell down onto his knees, folding over himself and shaking with pure, cutting sorrow.
Flashlight, or Tuck apparently, and Shovel got down beside him, hugging him from either side. They held one another and sobbed, one of them, Shovel, creaking out some pained “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”’s between wordless wails. From the looks of them, they couldn’t be more than 12 years old. Or maybe they could, Sam wasn’t a pediatrician. They were undoubtedly much too young to be in the middle of nowhere, all alone in a fragile mental state doing who-knows-what.
Sam looked to Dean then gestured with his head to let him know he was going to talk to the kids. Dean shook his head and violently gestured with his gun at the kids. Wait. Not /at/ the kids, beyond them. He’d neglected studying the white-wrapped body in front of them. That explained the tears. He couldn’t help but feel for them, even though for all he knew they’d just murdered someone in cold blood. He looked back to Dean and nodded, then signaled again.
Keeping his gun at the ready, but tucking it behind his back he slowly and deliberately stepped out of the trees, intentionally making noise so they’d see him coming. Tuck looked up with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. Danny and Shovel tensed but didn’t further acknowledge him.
“Um, hey,” he said, trying his best for nonthreatening and landing at the border of creepy and awkward. “Are you guys good?”
Tuck’s eyes flooded with tears, but he got up on shaky legs, trying to pull Danny and Shovel up with him. They weakly joined him, leaning against one another for support. Despite the warm night, all three were trembling.
“I’m, uh, I’m not here to hurt you,” Sam started, not really sure where he was going with this, “I’m Sam Winchester, what are your names?”
Tuck gave him the same watery stare he’d had the whole time, like Sam was the saddest thing he’d ever seen. Shovel looked up next, she was more angry. Maybe her smeared and ruined makeup should’ve made her look silly, but all it did was add to the aggression she exuded. He could see her squeezing both her friend’s shoulders and tugging them very slightly to the left, wordlessly signaling- or at least trying to- an escape plan. Sam pretended not to notice.
“I just wanna know what happened here,” he inched his way towards the corpse. As he got closer he could smell burnt hair and flesh, another thing he was all too familiar with. He didn’t break eye contact as he squatted down and gently pulled the sheet back from a tuft of what he assumed was hair.
He bit the inside of his cheek upon seeing the boy. Fried was the only word that could describe him. His mouth hung open, as did his eyes- or at least, what was left of them. Ooze had dribbled from every orifice and re-solidified in horrible mauve blobs. His hair was barely more than a charred mess, his skin was peeling and bubbled in places, and so discolored Sam could barely make out the dusting of freckles across his nose. This was a death in agony if he’d ever seen one.
He folded the cloth back over the boy’s head and straightened up, pulling the gun from where it had waited behind his back.
“Alright,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna need some answers.”
Danny looked up, letting Sam properly see his face for the first time. His red-rimmed eyes widened at the sight of the gun, lips tightening into a thin line. It was a look of fear and resignation. He ran the back of his hand across his nose. Sam noticed a dusting of freckles on it. He looked to the sheet and then back to Danny, then checked once more.
“What the hell is going on here.” Sympathy gone, Sam allowed himself to posture intimidatingly. Whatever freaks these- these- these... freaks! were, they weren’t about to get away with cooking some kid alive. “Talk.”
The “or I’ll shoot” was silent, but understood. Danny cleared his throat, one hand rubbed nervously on the back of his neck.
“It- I-“ he stuttered, then in a barely audible trembling voice he said, “I, uh, I think I’m dead.”
#supernatural#danny phantom#superphantom#superphantom ficlet#i dunno what else to tag this!#I've been thinking about this prompt for ages and finally got it down in a way I'm happy with :D#my writing
381 notes
·
View notes
Note
wait okay i have so many ideas you have no clue- okay so basically y/n is too scared to confess to either ushijima or shinsou (you decide lol) so he just puts love notes in his locker :)) but ushijima/shinsou catches him one day so he teases him about it but he liked y/n too so he lowkey confesses and its super fluffy i- 🥺🥺 i've had this idea for so long but i have no clue where to start writing it myself lolll
Guess who...took 4 months...to do Mr. Shinsoussimps request...not me...ahahaha...what are you talking about...BUT ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY MR SHINSOU PLS TAKE THIS FIC AS MY APOLOGIES
——————
Ushijima x reader - Secret Admirer Love Letter-kun!
⚠️warnings - none
Pronouns- male, he/him
——————
(Y/n’s) hands shook as he traced the linings of his love letter.
It had a red, heart-shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Ushijima-san’ written in royal purple across the back. The letter had slight crinkles from the shaky grip (Y/n) held it with.
His heart raced purely thinking about how Ushijima would react. Would he even react? Or would he just look at him with that blank stare and walk past him? Would he be ridiculed for being a man giving a love letter to another man?
Every single intrusive thought made (Y/n) want to tear up the letter and flush it down a toilet. Nonetheless, he stood next to Ushijima’s locker, waiting for him to appear.
His legs shook. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He could physically feel the sweat running down his forehead. He was probably gaining stares from other students for standing near Ushijima’s locker and panicking silently.
All these ‘what-if’s’ was beginning to make (Y/n) second-guess his decision. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all...
No! He had to! He’s been harboring his feelings for Ushijima for years now, and he was getting nowhere! Even if it was rejection, and he certainly hoped it was not, he needed an answer!
Just as if right on cue, (Y/n) heard the familiar deep voice of Ushijima coming down the hall. He wasn’t saying much, but the accompanied grunts of acknowledgement to Tendou’s ramblings was enough proof it was him. Without thinking, (Y/n’s) panic took over him, shoving his love letter into Ushijima’s locker and dashing out of the way.
He blended himself in with the gaggle of students near their lockers, watching Ushijima as he opened his own locker.
“Ara?” Tendou cocked his head when the letter (Y/n) slipped in fluttered out. It landed on the floor gracefully. Ushijima bent over and plucked it off the ground.
“Our Wakatoshi~kun has a secwet admiwer?” Tendou squashed his face together and boared curious eyes into the heart-shaped sticker on the note. Ushijima grunted.
“It seems to be a love letter.” Ushijima’s low voice sent even more panic through (Y/n). He didn’t want to be there while he opened the letter. But here he was, 10 feet away from him as he carefully peeled off the heart sticker from the envelope.
Ushijima’s eyes silently scanned the letter, it’s meticulous, thought-out writing filling Ushijima’s eyes. The silence rang so, so loud to (Y/n), as he watched Ushijima read his love letter with his emotionless face.
After what seemed like forever, Ushijima lifted his head up from the note. (Y/n’s) heart stopped.
“It is a love letter.” (Y/n), and Tendou, deadpanned.
Tendou reached for the letter. “Fiiiiine, then let me see-!”
Ushijima pulled the letter away, raising it above his head and out of Tendou’s easy reach. He lowered the letter and cradled it to his chest.
“No. It’s mine.”
(Y/n’s) heart fluttered. Could this mean-?
“But it does, however, have no name.”
“Awh. Poor Wakatoshi-kun’s admirer must be rewwy shy~”
(Y/n) internally facepalmed. Of course he forgot to sign the note! Why wouldn’t he?! (Y/n) crinkled up his nose. He was still determined to get his feelings to Ushijima.
He turned around, and walked to class. The next day, for sure, he was going to give him a love letter with his signature on it this time.
——
(Y/n) stared down at his paper, then shifted his eyes to the alarm clock sitting tauntingly at his dorm room’s desk, with the bright red numbers 10:35 pm glaring so menacingly at him. Like it was telling him to hurry up and sign the new love letter he just wrote. (Y/n) re-read the letter on his desk for the 6th time that night.
Everything was perfect. It explained his feelings perfectly, explained how long he’d been smitten for him for, hell, he even doodled a small picture of Ushijima himself with a heart next to it in the corner of the page.
Everything was there, except his name.
Did he really want to put his name, though? I mean, (Y/n) saw how...endearing Ushiwaka’s face looked reading his original letter. What if he ruined that when he finds out it was him who wrote it? And not some cute girl?
(Y/n) stared at the empty space on the page where his name was supposed to go. His hand gripped his pencil tighter than he should’ve, and began to write.
‘(L/n) (Y/...’
He stopped. (Y/n) thought about it for awhile, then grabbed his eraser and scrubbed at the name until it was pristine white again.
‘Your secret admirer’
Was all he wrote.
He packaged up the note in another small envelope, pressed a cute little heart sticker to the flap, and went to bed.
——
The next day, (Y/n) made sure to rush to school early to slip the note in his locker. He wanted to see his reaction to his new note. It made him feel sorta high. What kind of face would he make? Would he be delighted? He hoped he would.
(Y/n) crammed the note into Ushiwaka’s locker. No one was around. Good. No one saw him shove the letter through, therefore no one could tell Ushijima it was him. (Y/n) sighed contently, and timpered off somewhere secluded, but somewhere he could still see Ushijima and his locker.
After scrolling on his phone for what seemed like an hour, he heard Tendou’s familiar voice, humming a strange song and trailing next to Ushijima. It was his daily indicator that Ushijima was near. If he could hear Tendou coming, almost 100% Ushijima would be there too. (Y/n) pocketed his phone quickly and peeked behind a row of lockers.
Ushijima silently unhinged his locker, listening to Tendou talk. However, they fell silent when another letter fluttered out from his locker, this time landing so perfectly in his hands.
“Ara ara? Another note from Admirer-chan?”
“Yes. But I know it’s a boy, Tendou.”
(Y/n’s) heart dropped. He watched as Ushiwaka peeled off the heart sticker once more, while continuing his conversation with Tendou.
“Oh yeah? How so?”
Ushijima stopped, and reached into his locker once more. He pulled out (Y/n’s) previous note, and pointed to a line of text scribbled on there so neatly. Tendou raised his eyebrow, and leaned down to inspect the note.
‘-Besides, there’s no way someone as amazing as you can like a guy like me. It’s weird right? I hope you don’t think it’s weird. But I wouldn’t blame you.’
“Ahhhh~ makes sense...” Tendou hooked his arms dramatically over the back of his head. “But do you? Does Wakatoshi-kun think Secret Admirer-kun is weird?”
Ushijima traced the two love letters with his eyes. “I think he’s brave.”
(Y/n) clutched his tightening chest. It suddenly became really hard to breathe. How was Ushijima being so unintentionally sweet?
Tendou cooed. “Awwww, Is our Wakatoshi-kun catching feelings for his Admirer-kun?”
Ushijima folded the two notes back into their envelopes silently. He said nothing to Tendou’s remarks, while gently placing the two love letters back into a safe spot in his locker.
(Y/n) brisk-walked away, flustered, before he could hear his answer.
——
Writing notes and hiding them in Ushijima’s locker became a sort of habit for (Y/n) in the past few weeks.
Every now and then, he’d write a short love letter signed “Your Secret Admirer” or “Admirer-kun” and slip it under Ushijima’s dorm room door or the cracks between his locker. It became an addiction of watching him unravel the note with the tenderness of an angel. For such a big dude, he held each love letter (Y/n) wrote him with such delicacy.
(Y/n) walked with a pep in his step as he arrived to the school building early, like he’d usually been doing. He’d recently been writing small letters, playground compliments like “I think you look nice today!” or “the way you play volleyball gets me all fired up!” but this was the first time in a while he wrote a good chunk of his feelings out.
At first he thought he would make Ushijima uncomfortable, but after many of his personal notes filled with the most wonderful explanations of his feelings, or rambling about dates he’d like to take him on, he’s grown more comfortable with it. Especially after seeing the teeny tiny, barely noticeable blush tinting his cheeks as he read them.
(Y/n) stopped in front of Ushiwaka’s locker. It was a familiar stop, after cramming in letter after letter inside for about a month or two now. It’s been so long that (Y/n) couldn’t even remember himself.
Just as his hand met with the cold metal locker to slip the note in, two hands slammed down on (Y/n’s) shoulders, effectively scaring him shitless.
“I’ve caught you! Secret admirer-kun!”
“Uwaaaah!”
Tendou made a show of flamboyantly pointing his lanky fingers at (Y/n), bending his back father then (Y/n) knew was possible in the process. (Y/n) jittered, swinging his hands in front of him while stuttering incoherently.
“I-it-its not-! It’s not wh-what it-! T-the letter-I was just-I-!”
“There’s no use for it now, Secret-Admirer (L/n)-kun! You’ve been caught red handed!” Tendou stuck his tongue out heartily while (Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. If Tendou kept yelling the whole damn school would hear him.
“I-I’m not the one leaving notes in Ushijima-kun’s locker! I was just-!”
“Oya? Then how did you know Wakatoshi-kun was gettin’ notes in his locker in the first place?” Tendou eyed him down half jokingly. (Y/n) sputtered.
“More importantly...” Tendou dramatically pointed to the envelope half-sticking out from the slits of Ushijima’s locker. “Whaaaaats that!?”
“That’s-!”
There was no use fighting Tendou on this. (Y/n) deflated, defeated and grasping on to the wall of lockers for support. “Uuuuu...”
“So, Secret Admirer-“
“S-stop calling me that! Just (L/n) is fine-!”
“-Secret Admirer-kun, what made you fancy our lovely Wakatoshi-kun?”
(Y/n) turned around, facing the locker as Tendou smiled his usual, Tendou-grin. (Y/n) didn’t wanna look at Tendou and his stupid knowing smirk.
“He’s just...I dunno, he’s just so-cool...and stuff...and he’s so nice...looking...”
“Ah, such sophisticated words-tell me, do you write all of this down in the letters you give him?”
“Hey!” (Y/n) whipped his head around.
Tendou chuckled, and part of (Y/n) wanted to smack him upside the head. Tendous laughter eventually died down, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. He looked back at (Y/n), who was blushing profusely and had his arms crossed.
“Phew...haha...” Tendou cleared his throat. He pointed straight at (Y/n). “Now, here’s some ultra wise words from Satori-sama!” He mimicked a fake drum roll on his lap, before pointing at (Y/n) again.
“Ja-jun~! You should Wakatoshi-kun how you feel about him!”
(Y/n’s) heart got stuck in his throat. “A-are you crazy! I could never! I-I’m not...I’m not...I’m scared..”
“Hm? But you’re not scared to write about how much you wanna kiss him alllllllll oveeeeeer-?”
“That’s different!” (Y/n) yelled, more quietly this time. He turned back to the locker, and tipped the rest of the note in sticking out inside the slit. The note disappeared through the gap, just like all of its predecessors. “Like this, I can tell him how much I love him without him knowing it was from me! What if he’s disappointed it’s me and not some other dude?”
“I’m veeeeeery sure he won’t be. But suit yourself, I guess.” Tendou shrugged. He turned around and left, but not before saying,
“But you’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.”
“Wait-what does that mea-“
(Y/n) looked back, only to find Tendou gone. (Y/n) stood there, perplexed, before dashing off to his own locker, so he wouldn’t be spotted near Ushijima’s.
——
Everyday when (Y/n) went to slip another note into Ushiwaka’s locker, Tendou’s words would ring in his mind.
‘You’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.’
He knew that. He knew that but he couldn’t stop himself from cowardly slipping notes into Ushijima’s locker, just to run and take cover as he opened them up. And one time he could swear Tendou was looking right at him in his hiding spot when Ushijima was reading one of his letter.
(Y/n) shook the thoughts from his head. That happened 3 days ago, and nothing happened. Tendou was probably just trying to scare him into telling him. Yeah. There’s no way anyone could’ve found out about him being Ushijima’s secret admirer.
He huffed and strode up to Ushijima’s locker, just like he did every time before that. No one was in the hallway. There was no footsteps, at least to (Y/n’s) knowledge, and Tendou wasn’t around with his booming voice. If (Y/n) could hear Tendou coming, chances are Ushijima was not too far behind.
Tendou wasn’t there. (Y/n) was safe. He smiled and rose the letter up to the slot in Ushijima’s locker. He slowly crammed the note in, slowly, slowly until-
Slam!
A large, calloused hand slammed against the locker, making (Y/n) jolt up in surprise. (Y/n’s) heart stopped beating. He felt someone lean against his ear, and then they whispered:
“So Tendou was right. You were the one leaving the letters in my locker.”
“Ushijima-kun-!”
(Y/n) whipped his head around by the speed of lightning, pressing himself against the locker wall as if he’d disappear into it. Stupid fucking Tendou! Of course he’d tell Ushijima!
Ushiwaka didn’t move from his spot in front of (Y/n). His arm outstretched on the wall beside (Y/n) didn’t falter either, making him blush even more. God, he wanted to disappear.
The letter, now hidden crudely behind (Y/n) sweaty back, was being smushed as he tried shrinking in on himself.
“I-I-“ (Y/n’s) mouth ran dry. “It’s not what it looks like-!”
“Hm.” Ushijima’s deep voice manage to startle (Y/n), despite being right infront of him. God, he was close. So close. He’s too close. Oh god, why is he so close?
Ushijima suddenly grabbed (Y/n’s) hand, making him sputter in surprise as Ushijima pulled it out gently. A letter with a red heart sticker on the flap was wedged in between (Y/n’s) shaky, sweaty fingers. Ushijima looked at the envelope, while (Y/n) averted his embarrassed eyes.
“...But it’s exactly what it looks like.”
Words perished in (Y/n’s) throat. If the locker would just open up and swallow him whole, now was the time.
Ushiwaka plucked the note out of (Y/n’s) hands, ignoring the small protests of (Y/n) himself. He tried to grab for the letter, but Ushijima held the envelope high above his head and grabbed at (Y/n’s) shivering wrists. (Y/n) squeaked.
“...why are you trying to grab it back if this letter was meant for me in the first place?” Ushijima looked oblivious to (Y/n’s) embarrassment. (Y/n) croaked. He didn’t even register what Ushiwaka said with how strong and warm his grip on his wrists were.
He didn’t realize Ushijima managed to peel off the heart sticker and fish out the note with his hand until he started reading the letter. His eyes scanned the words, even when (Y/n) quietly squirmed protestingly in his grasp.
“Mm.” Ushijima hummed. (Y/n’s) eyes widened when he realized what he wrote in today’s note.
‘Y’know, I think you’re really cool with how you’re so dedicated to your club. But maybe...one day we could grab a bite to eat after your club activities? Just you and me? And maybe if I’m lucky enough I just might get a kiss from the amazing Ushijima Wakatoshi-kun~’
(Y/n) wanted no more but to die then and there. Ushijima looked at (Y/n) with an unreadable gaze.
“Ah. So it seems in today’s letter, you would like to go out for food and kiss. I am free after club activities today at 6. Are you free at that time or must we reschedule?”
(Y/n) met Ushijima’s state with a confused face. He said nothing-he couldn’t say anything. All he could do was muster up a weak “w-wha..?”
“So...you are not free today...?” Ushijima’s face was normal, but he gave off the same vibe a sad, kicked puppy would. It was sorta cute. (Y/n) waved his hands around frantically in Ushijima’s grasp.
“N-no! That’s not it! I-I’m free! I’m totally free! I just-“
“You just what?” Ushijima cocked his head to the side bluntly. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it clamp shut quietly.
(Y/n) averted his gaze. “Well...you don’t think it’s...weird that I was the one leaving you love letters?”
“But I already knew you were a man in the first place.”
“Still!” Ushijima was genuinely confused. (Y/n’s) voice died down a bit.
“Aren’t you...y’know...disappointed?”
Ushijima’s gaze never left (Y/n’s) eyes. “Why would I be disappointed?”
“I’m...w-well...it’s just...”
Ushiwaka placed his free hand on the other side of (Y/n’s) face, effectively trapping him in between his arms. Ushijima’s heavy gaze was too much to bear. (Y/n) instinctively averted his gaze away.
“You still haven’t given me a valid reason to be disappointed.”
“I-“
“You’re lovely, I believe you are very attractive, and you leave nice letters of encouragement in my locker everyday.”
“Wait-“
“I believe we both have feelings for each other. Therefore, I do not see why you are so hesitant on just doing what today’s lovely note said.”
“Ushi-“
“Is this just an excuse to turn me down? Were the letters not your true feelings? Because if so you just have to say so-“
“Ushijima-kun!”
(Y/n) rasped out between his fingers. He was covering his blushing face, and Ushijima didn’t know why until he realized his face was centimeters away from (Y/n’s). If it weren’t for (Y/n’s) hands cupping his face, they’d probably be able to kiss with one push closer.
“P-ple-please s-step back...”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Ushijima moved back, but didn’t quite move his arms from their positions on either side of (Y/n). He blinked. Silence engulfed them both, Ushijima bluntly staring at (Y/n) as he blushed and blushed into his hands.
Ushijima figured he should say something, and even open his mouth to speak when (Y/n) suddenly piped up, bringing his hands down from his face.
“I-I’m free...at 6...”
Ushijima blinked again.
“Ah. Today?”
“Yeah..!”
“Lovely. It is decided then. Will you wait for me at the gym after practice? If not I can pick you up from your dorm room.”
(Y/n) fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if he was dreaming or not. “I-I can meet you at the gym!”
Ushijima smiled gently, and that’s probably the first time (Y/n’s) seen him smile ever. It was so coaxing, relaxed and warm, (Y/n) wanted to take of picture of it and just stare at it for days. Ushijima let his hands fall to his sides. Not before giving a pat to (Y/n’s) head.
“It is decided then. It’s a date.”
(Y/n) had to remind himself to thank Tendou later.
——————
Lowkey this was so fun to write~ why don’t y’all leave some love in the comments because of that~~?
#ushiwaka x male reader#ushijima x male reader#wakatoshiushijima#ushijima wakatoshi#ushy gushy#hq x y/n#hq x male reader#hq ushijima#hq x reader#haikyuu x male reader#haikyuu x reader#ushijima x you#ushijima x reader#ushijima x y/n#mr shinsoussimp
782 notes
·
View notes
Text
Amoreena | chapter four
Chapter Four
summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.
Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff
word count: 3.9k
from the beginning <3
Everyone at work was very understanding. Almost all of them saw it coming, he was taking more sick days than normal and he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore when the 30 days was required to take rolled around. They were profilers after all.
He arrives on Thursday morning to pack his desk. The team is finally home and all together to wish him well on his future journey, giving him hugs and kisses as they each visited his desk.
They had already replaced him, Will LaMontagne was giving the FBI a shot, finally. Spending more time with JJ, the kids were old enough now to accept both of them working. And Kate Callahan was back, now that her baby wasn’t a baby anymore either.
Even Penelope and Derek showed up, bringing a cake that said ‘happy retirement’ written across the frosting. They were happy for him, they shared the same excitement he had. There was a thrill in his eyes again as they asked him about his plans.
“Tell us about this Y/N you met,” Emily cut into the laughter to get to the serious topics.
“I’ve been going to the park a lot recently and I found this little reading nook by a pond. She was there with her daughter and they invited me over to their picnic,” he realized how fake it all sounded as he continued to speak. “Her daughter is wonderful and super smart, I took them to the Smithsonian on Sunday and I’m completely smitten.”
Everyone swooned, happy to see him finally finding someone that makes him gush like this. It had been a very, very long time since Spencer has told any of them about a person, let alone someone he was in love with.
“She is wonderful,” Penelope added, “she makes the best tea and she lives in a literal Disney movie.”
Spencer laughed, “yeah she does. They probably read more books than I have, they make so many references all the time and they even dress up for what they’re reading, it’s amazing.”
They were amazed by how giddy he was, unable to stop smiling at him, “here we dressed up for the museum, I was milo from Atlantis and she was the old man in Tarzan,” he pulled his phone from his pocket to show them the photo.
It was his background now, Y/N sent it to him when he finally went back to his place Monday night, knowing he’d miss them. Not wanting him to be alone.
He was beyond proud to show them the photo, beaming from ear to ear as they all complimented his attire.
“She looks like you,” Kate added, “must be the genius gene,” she added, making awkward eye contact with JJ as they both clocked it.
“She’s exactly like me, that’s why Y/N likes having me around, it’s good for Amoreena to feel normal with the way our brains work,” he spoke about her like she was his own. Forever grateful to have her in his life.
“So when are you proposing?” Matt teased him. Knowing the feeling of love like this all too well with his perfect wife and a handful of children.
“I’m not trying to jinx anything,” Spencer admitted. “I actually have a job interview at the Library she works at later, so I’ll be around here a lot more.”
“He’ll be moved in by the end of the month,” Tara smiled, proud of him and the courage it takes to follow your heart.
“I’m going to miss you guys,” he presses his lips together softly, nodding as he avoids eye contact with them. “But you can call me whenever you need my brain, I guess.”
Hugs were exchanged as Spencer had to leave, Derek even offered to drive him back to his apartment to help with 4 boxes of books from his desk, and to have a bit of a talk like they always do.
“It’s surprisingly easy to be a dad, all you have to do is be there and love them,” Derek shared a tidbit of advice
“She told me she doesn’t mind me being like Amoreena’s dad, but I don’t think I can yet. I want her to decide when she wants me in that role.”
Spencer explains his feelings the easiest to Derek. Like he was already in his mind and knew the thoughts before he said them, Derek was never mad or disappointed in him. He loved him fully, and Spencer loved him right back.
“Like when you chose Gideon?”
Spencer can only nod, it’s still too sad to think about him being gone. “You know what it’s like, you love your father but there are other people in your life who fit the role better.”
“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “You’re going to be great, regardless of the name she uses when she thinks of you.”
“Thank you,” Spencer smiled as they pulled up to his apartment, “you should bring Hank to meet the animals this weekend sometime.”
“He’d love that,” Derek smiled back at him, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’m really proud of you.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t first,” he admits. “You’re a strong man who decided to put his happiness first, I can be too.”
“You sure as hell can,” Derek wrapped him up in one last hug before sending him off to live that best life he was talking about.
The only person who didn’t know yet was his mother. He wasn’t sure how to tell her, he knew she’d be proud of him regardless but that anxiety of disappointing her never went away even now that he was 40.
“Spencer!”
“Hey mom,” he smiled when she picked up. “How are you?”
“I’m fantastic, Marge and I are going on a walk later to see some ducks that were born, I really love it here Spencer,” he could hear it in her voice. She was much more joyful when she was surrounded by friends.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“you sound happy, what’s going on?”
She was his mother, after all, she could know exactly how he’s feeling from just hearing him breathe or being in the same room as him. It was like a superpower, she always knew what was going on.
“I met someone,” he can’t help but smile. “And I quit the FBI to have a family.”
“You’re kidding?” He couldn’t read her tone, not sure if she was surprised or disappointed.
“Her name is Y/N, she has a 7-year-old daughter named Amoreena who is exactly like how I was as a child, you’d really like them,” he explains and he can hear his mother's smile from his end of the phone.
“I would love to meet them, you can bring them to visiting hours next Tuesday?” Diana offered, genuinely happy for him in a way that made his heart burst.
“I’ll see if they’re free and I’ll let you know.”
“I love you, Spencer,” she reminded him. “It’s nice to hear you’re happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
“I love you too, thank you, mom, for everything.”
She hangs up before they can get too emotional, leaving Spencer inside his sad little apartment all by himself. Taking the opportunity to pack his overnight bag for Y/N and pick out some books from his collection to show Amoreena.
There’s an envelope sticking out of one of his books that manages to catch his attention, taking it out to see his name written on it in Gideon’s handwriting. He almost forgot he had this, how important the words were.
Spencer,
I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. I’m sorry the explanation couldn’t be better, Spencer. I’m sorry it doesn’t make more sense, but I’ve already told you. I just don’t understand any of it anymore.
I guess I’m just looking for it again, for the belief I had in college, the belief I had when I first met Sara and it all seemed so right.
The belief in happy endings. When you find that, never let it go, Spencer.
Don’t let this job do to you what it did to me, get out and get a life when you can. I have faith in you, till I see you again, take care, son.
Gideon
He walked over to the window then, seeing a beautiful red and brown bird perched on his fire escape. He couldn’t help but smile, “I found my Sara, thank you,” he whispers to the bird who turns its head to the side before flying off.
Gideon always did have the best timing and the best advice.
—
“Y/N, your one o’clock is here to see you,” the receptionist at the Library said over the phone, hanging up and returning her attention to Spencer, “she’ll be with you in a moment.”
“Doctor Reid,” he hears her voice as she rounds the corner, appearing behind a stack of books in the most beautiful blue dress he’s ever seen. “Lovely to see you again.”
“You too,” he smiles.
“Right this way,” she can’t help but smile as she escorts him to her office.
“I don’t normally consider people who don’t send in a resume, but I have a feeling you’re going to be good at this,” she teased him as he sat at her desk.
“Allison is going on maternity leave in a few weeks, so you won’t start until she has the baby. If you’re serious about wanting this position, it’s only Monday through Thursday, 9 to 2:30.”
“You’re not going to ask me anything?”
“I don’t know if you know this, but the literary historian and I get to spend a lot of time together, I’d rather hire someone I know I already like,” she smiled again. “And it would be nice to see you every day without a 7-year-old taking all your attention away from me.”
“You just want to live out the fantasy of kissing someone in the encyclopedia section, don’t you?” He teased her right back, making her blush. “I knew it.”
“Sue me!” She laughed, and he finally understood what tinker bell meant when she said farries are born from the purest laughter.
He was in love with her right then and there, he was sure of it.
It had been under a week and yet as he stared at her, hearing her wonderful laughter and seeing her beautiful smile, knowing she wanted to spend time with him, that she genuinely liked him and none of this was one-sided, it made him fall harder than he thought he could.
“Come on then,” he stands abruptly, taking her hand and pulling her out the door.
She tries to giggle quietly as she follows him all the way back to the quietest section of the library. Most of the books on the shelves didn’t even have bar codes because they haven’t been checked out since the 60’s, no one needs them but they can’t seem to part with them.
She backs up against the shelf and pulls him into her space, he drops her hands and holds her face instead, looking at her beautiful eyes as they sparkled in the fluorescent lighting.
“I was expecting this to be hungrier than this when I imagined it all for all these years,” she whispers, biting her lip to force her smile back.
“You’re just so fucking beautiful,” is all he can say, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs lightly a few times before finally placing his lips against hers, ever so gently.
Her hands stretched around his back, pulling him in closer till their bodies are pressed together and then she’s kissing him deeper. Breathing in through her nose like she’s trying to keep him there forever, her fingernails dig into his shirt and he knows she wants more.
He slid his thigh between hers, opening his mouth to give her all the access she wanted and letting her take control of the speed. She wasn’t kidding when she said she expected it to be hungrier. She was kissing him like it was the first time she has had contact with another human being in years, and it just might have been. She said she was single for a while before Amoreena, probably the whole time since as well.
“Spencer,” she took a moment to gasp for air, breathing against his lips as he did the same. “Can we?”
He kisses along her jaw then, moving towards her ear to whisper, “do what? Use your words.”
“Anything, just touch me please, god it’s been 12 years,” she begged as quietly as possible, tugging at his hair as he nibbled on her earlobe.
He kissed down her neck making his way towards her chest. Holding her by the hips now, she arched her back into the shelf as he kissed all the way to where her dress started to cover her breasts but he didn’t stop. Kissing over her clothes as he dropped down to his knees in front of her.
He undid his tie, slipping it off his neck and handing it to her, “in case you need to scream into something.”
She held it in her hand for a second, registering what he just said and moaning softly in response as she held it closer to her lips, he took that as a yes and slipped under her dress.
She was wearing just a pair of regular cut pink underwear, not expecting this in the slightest when she got ready this morning. He kissed her over top of the fabric, spreading her legs so that he could kiss the insides of her thighs as she tried to desperately grind into his face. grazing his teeth against her skin as she shivers, thighs shaking in anticipation.
He kisses right where her clit should be under the fabric, knowing he’s correct when she whimpers around the tie he handed her. It's muffled and adorable as he kisses her again and again, knowing she wants more and teasing her gently.
He pulls her panties to the side, mesmerized by how perfect she is for only a second before returning to the task at hand. Being the first person to pleasure her in years, wanting her to have the best time possible.
With one hand he holds her panties back, using his other to slowly swipe a single finger through her folds to see just how wet she was. Smirking against her thigh as he’s able to slip right in.
“Please,” he hears her whisper, lifting the dress up so she could look at what he’s doing.
“Such a good girl for me,” he pressed the words against her skin.
He spreads her legs even further, resting one of them on his shoulder as he dives in, sucking her clit into his mouth abruptly as he pumps his single finger in and out. She jerks her hips at the sudden contact, stuffing the tie in her mouth and biting down as she whimpers.
He knows what he’s doing, where all the pleasure spots are and what feels the best on most women. Searching around and trying different tongue movements, memorizing the sounds she makes and attempting to hear them again and again, knowing it means she’s enjoying herself.
That’s all he wanted, to please her. Not even realizing how hard he was as he continues to eat her out furiously in the back corner of the DC Public Library. He forgets they’re even in public entirely as he moans against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.
She’s quaking then, holding onto the top of his head with one hand as the other grips a shelf. She’s panting into the material of the tie, the hot breath making its way through the fabric and stopping the whorish moans he knew she’d make. It had been too long since someone treated her right.
He added a second finger then, wanting to push her over the edge as he curled them, finding her g spot and caressing it with every thrust of his fingers. She clenched around him then, a high-pitched noise left her mouth as she finished around him.
He couldn’t help but smirk, re-moving his fingers and cleaning them off in his mouth. Releasing them with a pop before dragging his tongue along her one last time. Gathering up everything she released and placing her panties back over her nicely.
He kissed over her underwear one last time before fixing her dress and standing up, “did I manage to fulfill the dream?”
She couldn’t help but laugh, looking like she was coming down from a real high, not just an orgasm. She pulled him in close and held onto him for dear life as she continued to catch her breath, and then her hand started to wander.
“Nope,” Spencer whispered, moving her hand away from his aching cock. “As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you at home.”
“Home huh?” She teased him, kissing his cheek softly as she pulled back.
"I love you," he whispers against her ear, without a fear in the world that she didn't feel the same way.
"I love you too, Spencer."
They couldn’t stop smiling at each other, it felt surreal to be this happy. He kissed her a few more times, staying hidden in the back corner until the blood in his body let this dick and went back to where it was supposed to be.
She just held him in her arms, leaning back against the shelves as they kissed softly, running her hands through his hair gently, over and over. She whispered a few thank you’s to him, letting him know it was everything she waited for.
It was truly perfect.
—
Amoreena was so happy to see him back at the farm when she got off the bus, she missed him during the few days he wasn’t there.
She asked him to help with her homework, her teacher assigning them an “all about me” project to showcase their growth at the end of the year ceremony. It was almost June, she only had a few weeks left before she was off for the summer and free to show him around the whole kingdom.
Y/N brought out a box of craft supplies and a collection of photos. Showing Spencer every single moment of her and Amoreena’s life.
From her first sonogram to the first bump photo, she had and every maternity shot on the farm you could think of, to the day she was born, her first bath, first steps, chocolate cake shoved on her nose at her first birthday, everything. He felt like he watched her grow up in the blink of an eye, staring at all the photos while Y/N and Amoreena made a plan for her project.
She did look a lot like him, in some instances, she even looked like his mom. There was a look Diana would get when she was intrigued with something, or when she was trying to figure something out. She’d bite her tongue and tilt her head, and it was exactly what Amoreena did.
He never thought he’d see a child-like himself this early, he always expected someone to contact him at 18 and surprise him like Rossi. He really never, ever thought he'd have a child in his life who he was blessed with watching grow up. He never believed someone would have a kid so much like him and allow him to see the world through their eyes. He was amazed by how lucky he got, to be brought into an already happy family that wanted him, they didn’t just need him.
There was no need for a father in Amoreena’s life, she was happily living her life with her grandparents and her mother, explaining to him that she had a bunch of aunts and uncles, plus 15 cousins and they all lived close too. Her life was full of people to love her, and yet she wanted Spencer to love her too.
“Can I put the photo of us at the museum on here too?” She asked Y/N, looking at Spencer to see if he was okay with it too. “I already told my friends that you’re my dad.”
He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t want to cry in front of her so instead he just stopped all movement inside of his body and held it in. Looking at Y/N who was also a little emotional as Amoreena went back to looking through the photos.
Amoreena didn’t even notice how their expressions changed, she didn’t understand the weight of the words as she said them. She was oblivious to the hole in Spencer’s heart that she was filling with glitter glue, making him feel like he was whole again.
“Yeah,” he finally managed to speak. “I’d love to be on your project.”
“I know you said we don’t need dads but I kinda want one,” Amoreena’s soft expression made his heart melt even more. He was putty in her hands, willing to be whatever she wanted from him as long as he could.
“When did you say that?” Y/N asked softly, confused as to where she was when they had a conversation.
“The other morning at breakfast, um, my father left when I was little. It was just me and my wonderful mother until I was 21, then I found someone to call Dad. His name was Jason Gideon, he was my mentor and he made he feel like I was smart and loved,” he smiled, letting her know he genuinely meant it. “There’s a big difference between being a father and being someone's dad.”
“What’s that?” Amoreena’s innocent mind running wild as she tried to figure out his meaning.
“Anyone can be a father when two adults make a baby,” he said softly, making eye contact with Y/N as she blushed. Knowing where he was going with this. “But dads are special, they’re the people who are supposed to make you feel safe and loved. A person who you can turn to for advice and know he’ll love you no matter what you have to say. Dad’s are supposed to love you forever, regardless of what happens in life. Just like your mom does already.”
Amoreena leaned into his chest, pressing her head against him softly. He wrapped his arms around her gently, giving her the tiniest hug he’s ever given. “I pick you then, you’re the best guy I know and I think that means you’d be a good dad.”
Y/N silently cried, getting up from the table and walking into the kitchen so Amoreena wouldn’t see her sob. Spencer tried to widen his eyes so the tears he was generating would slip back into his tear ducts. Not wanting to cry as she held him.
“I’d love to be your dad,” he whispered, kissing her head softly as she held him tighter. “But first I’ve gotta check on your mom,” he whispered into her hair. Watching her pull away and look for where she was.
“Okay,” Amoreena shrugged, returning to her project as he wandered into the kitchen.
She was leaning against the counter when he walked in, her dress pulled up over her face as she cried into the material. Wiping her face as Spencer walked in and looking at him with the happiest smile.
She was laughing into her tears then, shaking her head as she sobbed, “why am I crying?”
He laughed then too, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around gently as she kept laughing. Her face buried into his neck as she smiled, he set her down gently so he could pull her into a kiss.
Her cheeks were all wet as he held her face, peppering kisses to her lips as they both tried to stop smiling.
“I’m going to miss hearing her call you Spencer,” Y/N whispered.
“Me too,” he giggled again. “But dad does have a good ring to it.”
tag list:
@shemarmooresfedora
@spencers-dria
@spookyspence
@reidsfish
@manuosorioh
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid request#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#amoreena
194 notes
·
View notes
Text
I swear I have normal Narnia headcanons. However, none of them are featured in this post.
So! If you've been following my series of posts about my Inhuman Narnia AU and the couple of oneshots I posted on ao3 under ASkyOfKai, you've probably noticed that in this little universe I've created, Narnia is sort of...sentient. And I've just realized that I've only actually gone into depth about this on Discord with my friends who are probably very tired of hearing about it. So I'm making y'all suffer through it instead. Welcome to Inhuman Narnia 101, please take your seats because this is going to take a while.
Warning for religious themes, theological discussion, and some dark fantasy/inhuman/body horror concepts that involve blood and physical changes.
BEFORE I SAY ANYTHING: Please keep in mind that an AU is meant to be an alternate universe that may not follow canon information. If anything in this post contradicts canon on the creation of Narnia (it undoubtedly will), pay it no mind, this is an AU. It doesn't have to follow canon.
First off, a little explanation of the Inhuman Narnia AU in general. Basically I came up with this AU after seeing some other people on tumblr post about the Pevensies being not quite human after their time in Narnia. Just eerie, cryptid, a bit of dark fantasy kinda stuff. And I was like, "I'm in love, sign me up, I have ideas." I did not sit down and develop this all at once. The worldbuilding I've done for it has come slowly over the past few weeks through posts, fanfics, and discord rambles. The idea of Narnia being a sentient earth deity of sorts is a recent one and there is already so much to it. (Also I call her Narnia because it's convenient, she has other names but I haven't bothered to like, actually make any up so Narnia is what she's called.)
The most important thing to note starting off is that Narnia is not supposed to be a replacement for Aslan, nor is she necessarily "the hero to his villain". Aslan and I have an interesting relationship, as he is literally God/Jesus/The Holy Spirit/etc and I no longer really identify as Christian. While there are times that Aslan definitely takes a more antagonistic route in my writings, I don't actually see him as a bad guy, nor as a good guy. As God, he literally removed from our concepts of good and evil (in my opinion). The same goes for Narnia being an earth deity. I am a Christian-raised pagan, and I definitely subscribe to the idea that gods and deities are not subject to humanity and our rules. Narnia is not a good goddess, she is not a bad goddess, she simply is a goddess. Plain and simple. The dichotomy that exists between Narnia and Aslan in my writing is generally that of opposing deities, but this isn't a hard and fast rule. There were and still are times when they're friends, working towards the same goals. There are times when Narnia's power is stronger than Aslan's and times when Aslan's power is stronger than hers. There is no simple 1:1 comparison between them.
So, getting into motivations and why Narnia as a deity even exists. Essentially, I asked the question, "How do the Pevensies become inhuman?" and voila earth deity Narnia was born. Now, the basic in-universe mythology I've worked out is that Narnia and Aslan are two deities from separate dimensions that came together to create a new world, the world of Narnia. Aslan is the one who oversees things, he's the one who comes up with the ideas, and he's a little less attached to the world as a whole because he's a Creator, not an earth deity. Narnia is, however, and she literally makes up the world, she sort of runs the entire thing on a physical level, and she is much more attached to it. So she's always kinda taken on this role of making the things in her world the way she wants them. For the most part, she and Aslan designed everything together and they're both happy with it blah blah blah. Well, Aslan then decides to bring a few humans from this other world he's created to Narnia. And she affects them a bit (I've got headcanons about Digory and Polly that I haven't posted anywhere yet but I might soon), but it isn't until Aslan brings the Pevensies over that she really gets to experiment. See, there are other deities in the world that kinda rule over the various lands on a surface level (patron gods for Telmar, the Archenlands, etc, they just have less power than Narnia and Aslan) so she has a little less power over the people in those places, but the country of Narnia is both her land and her so when the Pevensies become the Kings and Queens and live there for 15 years, she's very connected to them. And it's through this connection that she starts to affect them. Honestly, I'm not sure if Narnia even knows what she's doing when she starts stripping away their humanity. I think it's that she can feel they're not from her world and she doesn't like that. She wants them to be a part of her, she wants them to belong in her world just the same as everyone else. (Side note—I know Telmar and some other lands in canon are based on people finding portals and coming through and I'd like to say that she does affect them a bit, takes away a bit of their humanity, but it's not to the same extent as the Kings and Queens of her lands).
"So Kai," you might say, "You keep empathizing that she is literally the land and the land is her. What the hell do you mean by that?" Well, essentially, she is...the...land. Basically if you've read Percy Jackson Heroes of Olympus, there's this idea that Gaia and Tartarus are both physically their domains and able to take on a smaller, human shaped physical form because they're gods and not restricted by human ideas of only having one body. Narnia is the same. Her physical form is both the entire world and whatever smaller shape she might appear in to people. However, we have to acknowledge that their world is differently structurally from ours. There's magic, there's talking animals, and in my Inhuman AU, there is a literal Heart of Narnia at the center. Like a physical, beating, human-shaped heart. Except it's a lot bigger than a regular human heart. Also it's golden. And many many many miles underground. So anyways this is where she's centered. It's basically where her soul is. Probably under Cair Paravel because I just came up with that idea and I love it. And radiating out from it are veins of magic and blood, and these stretch all across the world. Now here is where we get into blood magic and some of those fun terrifying concepts I've come up with.
Narnia has her own blood, of course, but also whenever one of her Kings or Queens bleeds in battle, she kinda pulls it down through the earth into her own heart and veins. It doesn't really do anything to her or them in particular, it's just a fun side effect of them having a patron pagan god. Yes this includes Caspian after he becomes King. Also Peter's blood turns golden because he's the High King, and then later Caspian's does too because I just really like imagery of Ben Barnes bleeding gold. (Side note—when Peter returns to England, his blood goes back to red, but it does remain a brighter red than blood generally is).
Diverting for half a second here. Now, in both my regular Narnia writings and my Inhuman AU, Lucy is very very connected to magic. In my regular Narnia fanfic, she studies with the druids, who are sort of like BBC Merlin's druids. They're just like, chill dudes who run around in camps doing magic and making prophecies and shit. However, in the Inhuman AU, they are a lot darker. One of my favorite ideas with the Inhuman druids and Lucy is that they are so connected to Narnia's magic and her Heart that their hands become stained with blood. Is it their blood, is it Narnia's blood, is it someone else's blood? Idk, don't ask questions. But yea, their hands are permanently stained reddish-brown to almost black. In my regular Narnia stuff, I still like the idea of Lucy's hands being stained and go with just earth magic, dirt stuff for the reason why. But yea no, in the Inhuman AU her hands are stained with blood because of blood magic.
So getting a bit more into how Narnia affects the Pevensies now because I love talking about this lol. She doesn't consciously chose how to change them, though she does call them her creations. Generally the way her magic affects them is by connecting them to to the land in some way and bringing out certain traits they have. So for Peter it's his eyes flickering between regular blue and the amber of a lion's, feathers appearing on his back that grow into wings, having a strength greater than that of a giant's. His blood is golden and on clear nights, the Aurora Borealis in the sky is reflected across his skin. For Susan, her skin glints like glass in the sun and she can briefly glimpse the future. Her wounds are sewn shut with golden rays of light, her eyes are cracked but clear, and she seems to glow faintly in the night, a bit of the sun's radiance shining through her. Edmund has a bit of a star's power lodged in his throat, and can manipulate words, uses them to influence people and their actions. His skin is frostbitten in places, a side effect of ruling the Woods where the White Witch once held so much power, and in some spots his bones shine under the ice that spreads across his skin. Lucy has the stained skin from her stronger connection to magic, and when she speaks words from the Old Language (the one Aslan and Narnia used to shape the world itself), her voice echoes and rasps. Her teeth are too sharp, her smile too wide, and when she disappears underwater, she can stay for hours without surfacing. I want to get into Eustace and Caspian now too but this post is already extremely long and I've still got a bit to cover, so we're just sticking with the Pevensies for now. So yea, Narnia doesn't pick what she does to the Pevensies, she just connects herself to them and through that connection, they change. The magic that she is made of, that Narnia the world operates on, that's what changes them. However, as I stated already, she does call them her creations and feels extremely responsible for them.
Wrapping back around up to the beginning, this is the biggest source of conflict between her and Aslan as of the canon timeline. I like to believe that the lamppost incident was an accident, that Aslan didn't actually mean to send them back at the end of LWW and it was pure coincidence, wrong place wrong time stuff. That being said, it did happen and Narnia really didn't like it happening. The Pevensies did return to their (mostly) human selves in this AU in England, so when they came back in Prince Caspian, she felt disconnected from them again. She reacted to this by digging into them even harder on a spiritual level and essentially speedran them back to being inhuman throughout the timeline of PC, which generally takes place over a few months in my mind. I don't remember how long it was in the book, it's been quite a while since I read them, but it's only like a week in the movie and like eff that, overthrowing a kingdom takes a bit longer in my opinion. Now there are a few divergences here. 1. They all stay at the end of PC and yea that's it, they go back to being Kings and Queens and it's like a second Golden Age but with Caspian there as well. 2. Susan and Peter stay, Lucy and Edmund go back and it's a repeat of the human/inhumanity cycle for them + Eustace in VOTDT and then they stay. 3. Everything happens exactly as it does in canon and it's a constant cycle of humanity/inhumanity with the character's various trips and finally ends at The Last Battle. I like all versions and I tend to leave things a little open to the reader on what exactly happens, or I would if I could actually finish some of my drafts and post them. As you can imagine, Narnia likes 1 the best and 3 the least. She really wants her Kings and Queens to stay and rule her lands and like be awesome and stuff. However, Aslan prefers 3 the best and 1 the least. So again, neither of them is really good nor evil, they just have differing opinions on how the world should be run and what the Pevensie's fates should be. I do tend to side with Narnia, I really like exploring these concepts of inhumanity, but I also really like the concept of a cycle. That's very common in mythology.
So anyways, that's a bit of an overview on earth deity Narnia and her role in my Inhuman AU. If you made it this far, congratulations, and I give you explicit permission to use any of my ideas in your own writing/fanart/whatever, as long as you tag either my tumblr or my ao3 (lord-of-christmas-lights and ASkyOfKai) because I need more Narnia+Inhumanity content in my life. Thanks for reading all this and I'll probably be back very soon with elaboration on Eustace and Caspian's inhumanity!
- Kai
#inhuman/dark fantasy narnia#the chronicles of narnia#peter pevensie#susan pevensie#edmund pevensie#lucy pevensie#aslan#digory kirke#eustace scrubb#caspian x#narnia headcanons#rambles of a hyperfixating kai
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
part three | epiphany
epiphany [noun. a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand, or suddenly become conscious of, something that is very important to you ]
pairing: kamo noritoshi/f!reader
summary: your relationship with noritoshi was like a game of cat and mouse; no matter how hard you tried to escape from him, he would always find his way back to you.
wordcount: 9.1k
content/warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, language, angst, smut!!!!, dom!noritoshi, noritoshi is mean, oral sex, fingering, begging, edging, biting? (he gives u a bite like once), dry humping, riding, lowercase intended [UNEDITED]
a/n: i... will not comment on this. lmfao i can’t believe i wrote all of this filth. please have mercy on me, this is the first time i’ve every written smut and i’m not really good at it fhuewhiu (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) i think this is the angstiest chapter by far but i promise, no more from the next chapter on! i hope you enjoy (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡ will also add the series playlist to the masterpost so check it out if you wanna!
previous - masterlist - next
noritoshi watched as you angrily stormed out of the room, slamming the door forcefully. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. now you've gone and done it. the words came out harsh and hurtful, force of habit deeply engraved into his brain. never was it his intention to hurt you so deeply, to push you away. but it was the only way to protect you from his family. noritoshi was well aware that he was a mere pawn in the stupid game that the clans were playing. he was the golden child, only accepted into the family because of his cursed technique. the cruelty he experienced was something he would never forget. he seeked revenge, for his mother and himself. but this was his own problem to handle, not wanting to drag his mother or you into this mess.
for years, noritoshi had suffered quietly, his only motivation being the protection of his mother and you. rarely did he ever show any emotion, nor did he know many to begin with - but he knew he loved you. his suppressed adoration brought out ugly facettes of his personality: jealousy, frustration, anger. if his family ever caught wind of how much he loved and cherished you, it'd be the end for the both of you. he didn't doubt that they'd already arranged a partner for him to marry. noritoshi hated how they held onto traditions that had no place in this time any more. how they still engaged in these petty clan fights when now it was most crucial to stick together. he swore to himself, as soon as he would become clan head, everything was going to change. but until then, he had to get through this.
how much longer he could deal with this, he wasn't sure. it did bother him that you got so much attention from everyone else; it irked him even more to see that you flirted back sometimes, completely unaware of the effect you had on them. his heart yearned to be yours. as much as he didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't help but indulge. noritoshi still felt your lips on his, your smooth skin, how pliable you were in his arms and how you gave in, into him. was it unfair of him? he supposed so. if he ever got the chance to explain the entire issue to you, he would have to beg for your forgiveness, undoubtedly.
summer rolled around faster than you’d anticipated - it meant that you could finally get some room to breathe and just do nothing for a while. the third years had graduated a week prior, making you feel a little sad and wistful. you’d miss todo a lot now that he left the school but made him promise that he would drop by whenever possible. noritoshi however- you hadn’t spoken a word to him ever since that incident. it was frosty between the two of you, even the teachers had noticed and tried to not let you close to each other. while you hadn’t thought about him in a while, sometimes the thoughts were creeping up on you. some type of closure would have left you feel more at ease but having talked to your mum about the issue, it helped you move on. regardless of how he had made you feel, you would live your life for yourself now.
summer break was long and you didn’t have anything in particular planned - the two main events were your summer vacation with miwa as well as your training camp at tokyo tech. the spring tournament also had its good sides, you guessed, you were able to ask shoko and gojo to teach you over the summer. having witnessed shoko’s healing abilities first hand, you were hellbent to become as good as her. never again would you feel anxious and useless about your skills, you would become an excellent on field healer. you were looking forward to spending time with everyone there as well, especially since yuta was coming home for the summer break. you couldn’t shake the little crush you had on him, it creeped up on you whenever you talked on the phone or texted each other. subconsciously, you hoped that something would bloom out of it but hope was a fickle thing that could quickly turn into misery.
before you left for tokyo, you decided to visit your parents at the kamo estate, hoping that you wouldn’t run into noritoshi on your way there. as far as you knew, he was busy on missions, rarely ever coming home. you greeted the guard at the front entrance, making your way to your family’s little house near the outskirts of the estate. despite the uncomfortable atmosphere that was surrounding the entire estate, you still couldn’t help but fall in love with the gardens and sculptures over and over again. you couldn’t lie, growing up here was wonderful. deciding to make a little detour to the koi pond, you skipped towards the arch bridge. below you, the fish were happily swimming around, glimmering in all kinds of colours. you peered at them, leaning against the railing. as a child, you always liked to dip your feet into the water on hot summer days, promptly earning a disapproving glare from your mum. you always ignored her though, claiming that she couldn’t stop you from getting some kind of refreshment.
as you watched the koi and took in your surroundings, footsteps made you halt in your musings. one of the kamo elders must have gone on a stroll around the gardens; you whirled around to greet the person. your throat grew dry and constricted when you saw noritoshi walking towards you, looking so casual and carefree in his loosely tied yukata. should you greet him? after all, this place was his in some way. but your friendship (could you even call it friendship?) ended on a bad note, did you really owe it to him? neither of you made a sound until he stood next to you, leaning against the railing. you tried your best not to look at him and focused on the pond below you, staring so intensely that you thought you might have lasered some holes in the surface beneath you.
how much longer would you stand here? could you just leave? but then, wouldn’t it be even more awkward? not that you cared anyways. you hadn’t talked to each other in months. as you pushed away from the railing, noritoshi cleared his voice and turned his body towards you.
“y/n.”
you froze in your steps, looking at him like a deer in headlights. behind you, the wind was rustling up the leaves, adding to the tense and awkward atmosphere. you tried not to scream at him in frustration - it would only end up in yet another fight. yet, noritoshi looked strangely vulnerable in this state, seemingly not knowing what to say to you either. it appeared he simply spoke to you without considering how to further the conversation. he looked like he wanted to reach out to you but simply didn’t know how. you couldn’t fall for this - it had happened before.
“how have you been? i heard you’re going to tokyo tech for training,” he started after a moment of hesitation and gave you a wry smile. huh? you were confused. why was he asking you about this now? it was because of megumi and yuta, wasn’t it.
“it’s… it’s none of your business,” you said with a strained voice. even though you felt uncomfortable with his presence around you, you couldn’t take a step away from him. perhaps you were hoping for an explanation from his side. perhaps you were just relieved to see he was okay, after all the missions he’d already been sent on. “i don’t see how i owe you an answer after… everything that happened between us.”
noritoshi stayed silent, balling up his fists. “you’re right. i’m sorry,” he mumbled, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his yukata embarrassed. “i… i want to explain myself. at least as much as i can tell you and if you’re okay with it. can we move it somewhere more private? i don’t want any of the elders seeing us.”
you hesitated. on one hand, noritoshi sounded sincere but your history spoke for itself. and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. like a moth to flames, you were always drawn to him. like the center of your universe, everything revolved around him. curiosity got the better of you, nodding before you could stop yourself. noritoshi let out a sigh in relief, stepping towards a more secluded area on the estate, one that you were very familiar with. as children, you used to spend time there a lot, hidden from your parents eyes and without any care in the world. the little corner was surrounded by tall cherry trees, adorned with smaller bushes and a little bench underneath the tree crowns. as noritoshi made his way there, he glanced behind him, making sure that you wouldn’t just leave him and vanish. true to your word, however, you trudged behind him and kept your distance. not once did you look him in the eyes, avoiding his gaze altogether. you were afraid it would make you weak in your resolve, walls crumbling and falling apart like paper mâché.
arriving at the bench, the two of you sat far apart, mirroring the distance between your hearts. you reminisced the old times, the memories making you queasy. whenever you spent time here as children, you would sit close to each other and read books together or just told each other stories. all that’s left was bitterness, heavy and suffocating on your tongue. “what is it that you wanted to tell me?” you questioned him, folding your hands on your lap. you were clenching your hands hard to keep them from trembling, not wanting to show him any weakness.
noritoshi was questioning his own resolve - he shouldn’t tell you anything, should’ve stayed away from you. the yearning was too strong; it was one of the few times he would ever get to see you again before being sent to yet another mission. noritoshi wanted to be selfish, to savour your presence until he was satisfied. maybe you would understand, at least a little bit. he didn’t expect you to forgive him, nor did he think you would let him crawl back into your space. but being close to you was enough.
“i know no amount of apologizing is going to make this better or even take the pain you’ve felt from my treatment but i want you to know that i’m really sorry. you didn’t deserve that whatsoever. i can’t tell you the exact reason why but- but i don’t want to leave you in the unknown any longer,” noritoshi recited his reasons so fast that you almost weren’t able to follow. with each word, your confusion visibly grew. but instead of feeling anger, as you should have, your heart grew heavier with disappointment. his confession was somewhat of closure but not quite. why couldn’t he tell you the reason? was it really so important? important enough to hurt you? you couldn’t understand and you didn’t want to.
“i don’t understand. why can’t you tell me? in case you didn’t realize yourself, this entire thing makes no sense. i don’t understand why you suddenly started hating me. we were close friends, we grew up together. are you telling me you never felt that way? that you weren’t and still aren’t able to trust me with this… reason? and why would you dump this onto me now? i would’ve been content not knowing anything at all,” you vented frustrated, sending him a glare. noritoshi was taken back by your outburst, gnawing at his bottom lip as he looked at you guiltily.
“i… fuck, i don’t know how to explain this without giving away too much, okay? i know it’s stupid but it’s complicated and i don’t want to drag you into this. i trust you, more than i trust anyone but this wasn’t… it wasn’t because i didn’t trust you,” noritoshi took a deep breath. “my entire goal was to protect you by keeping you away from me. and yeah, that was the only way.”
“but why-”
“now that i’ve left school, i’ll most likely be traveling a lot… i won’t be able to see you, let alone keep my eyes on you to make sure you’re okay. i just wanted to be fucking selfish for once, just needed to see you again. you don’t want to see me, i get it. i’ve been nothing but cruel to you and i don't expect you to ever forgive me. but i promise i'll make it up to you."
"noritoshi," you clenched your jaw, brows furrowed as you leaned over, jabbing your finger at his chest. "i don't want to play this game of cat and mouse with you. let's just stay away from each other, okay? nothing good comes out of it anyways. either you want me by your side or you don't, easy as that. you don't get to decide when to get back into my life just because you feel like it."
you just couldn't show him how hurt you were. whatever opening you would reveal, noritoshi would use it against you. he had always been and will always remain your weak point. you made peace with the fact that he was your first love but would probably not be your last. a dam broke inside you as you felt the warmth of his chest, memories flooding your senses. that day was long forgotten, exiled out of your memories until now. there was never a moment that allowed you to reflect on it. you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it and his confession had confirmed the suspicions. noritoshi wasn't the type to engage with people he strongly disliked, much less be intimate with them. there was more to it that he simply refused to disclose to you. you had to put an end to this endless circle - a clean cut until the two of you were ready to face each other again.
taking a deep breath, you withdrew your hand and clutched it to your chest. "this isn't going to work out the way it is. you keep pulling and pushing, without giving me an explanation and- and i'm tired of it. i'm tired of getting hurt. i used to like you a lot, i had a crush on you-"
"you what?" noritoshi visibly paled, unnoticeably inching closer to you. he never realized.
"-and i kept hoping that one day you would return the feelings. i'm a fool, for thinking we could ever get anywhere," you smiled bitterly, slowly getting up from the bench. "let's go back to being enemies, okay? pretend this never happened. it's obvious we need to grow as people, independently from each other. maybe it's good that we'll go separate ways… if fate wants it, we'll find back to each other. and hopefully by then, you'll have a good explanation."
conflicted, you didn’t take another step, staring down at him. he looked small and meek as he sat there with his usually broad frame hunched over and kept his eyes on the grass below him, fiddling with his fingers. as if sensing your gaze on him, noritoshi tilted his head to look at you. his mind was elsewhere, far far away. he didn't realize he was staring at you with blank eyes until you came closer and leaned down concerned. you were so close to him, he could almost feel your breath fanning across his skin. you liked him. noritoshi fucked up, majorly, and he felt like everything was slipping from his fingers. his carefully constructed walls, the mask he kept on at all times and the unwavering resolve to push through until he'd become the head of the clan, they all came crumbling down when you announced that you would leave for an indefinite amount of time.
"don't leave," the words came out like a whisper, barely audible in the chimes of the wind. your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words, heart clenching at the sight of such a vulerable noritoshi - a reflection of your 'toshi. he reached out to you, hesitantly glasping your hand in a weak grip. as if he was afraid, prepared even, that you would go anyways. "please," he pleaded a second later, intertwining your fingers with his. like the wings of a hummingbird, your heart was fastly beating at this display of intimacy. it made you feel warm and cold at the same time, filling you with dread and the looming fear of consequences.
but what would he do if his last source of hope would leave him? ever since his mum left, he sparsely had contact with her until the contact eventually ceased to be. never did she reach out to him or react to his attempts to rekindle the relationship. throughout his adolescent years he had lonely, the guilt gnawing at his conscience. if only he could be stronger, more resilient. stand up to the elders and stand tall and proud, being nobody else but him. you gave him hope, that he could someday return to you, even if it remained a simple friendship. a beacon of light would always be one as there was always light at the end of the tunnel. panic filled his head as he realized that you would abandon him and this time it would be final.
"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," noritoshi mumbled in a begging tone and slowly drew you closer, until you stood between his legs. his face was basked in the evening light, accentuating all the features you liked about him. his kind, steel blue eyes that harboured depths of emotion and mystery like a restless ocean. his long hair that flowed with the wind, not being wrapped up in the bindings for once. the wisps of hair that framed his slim face. it was an unusual sight, making your heart clench in melancholy. he looked so innocent like this, the gentleness in his facial expressions more visible now. as if feeling your resolve slipping away, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and pressed his face in your chest, exhaling shakily and slowly. you let him, gently petting his hair.
underneath his breath, noritoshi murmured something. his voice was muffled in the fabric, making it difficult to understand what he was saying. you made a confused sound, leaning down slightly to better listen to him. not expecting him to move as well, you suddenly found yourself face to face with him and much closer than before. "i love you," he breathed out, pressing his lips against yours in a fluid motion. they felt scalding against yours, as if reminding you to stay away and yet soft, inviting you back in. finally gasping for air, you pulled away, fingers coming up to touch your tingling lips. noritoshi gave you a hopeful look, fingers dancing across the expanse of your back.
slowly, you backed away from him, avoiding his glance. you were in shock, not being able to process his confession. the entire confrontation had quickly escalated and you weren't able to follow. though the words made your heart clench, you couldn't help but feel like they were empty words. empty, simply thrown into the mix to elicit some kind of reaction from you. "i'm sorry, noritoshi. i- i can't return this, nor do i… i don't feel like i can believe you," you told him with a heavy heart. he opened his mouth, about to retort something when you cut him off. "please just let us move on from this, okay? i- i'll leave now." you sprinted away from him, tears stinging in your eyes. how could words that you've always wanted to hear hurt this much? how dare he play with your emotions like this, using your weakness to his advantage. he wasn't serious, and you were sure of it. there was no way in hell, after all those years that he'd spent being a menacing asshole.
love was a fickle thing but what was it between noritoshi and you? treading the line between love and hate, tilting more towards the other but not quite. never far apart and connected to each other like an invisible thread of fate was intertwined between you. it wasn't love and it wasn't hate but everything in between.
you stared at the piece of paper in your hands, mildly offended. how dare gojo? why would he do this to you? yeah right, because he liked to see you suffer. and he wasn't even here to get an earful from you. clenching your teeth, you tossed the note on your table and moved towards your closet to pack. it was no use complaining about it, in the end the mission had to be accomplished either way. years you'd gotten away with rarely ever meeting noritoshi. the sorcerer community wasn't big to begin with but with skill and determination, you were able to dodge every encounter. the handful of times you met, he always kept his distance though you always felt his watching eyes on you. megumi had told you that noritoshi was to become clan head soon - the elders had finally given in and the handover would be taking place soon.
apparently noritoshi had proven himself to them, both in strength and leadership skills. even you had taken notice of this. you'd only caught a brief glimpse at him at the last gathering but could tell that he had matured, exuding an authoritative and strong aura. but you had grown as well, no longer the meek girl you had been. you were more confident in your skills now thanks to your diligent training with shoko and yuta. moments of insecurity rarely entered your mind anymore. the relationship, or rather lack thereof, between you was rather frosty now, merely limited to an awkward greeting or a simple nod. the tension was palpable, no one wanted to come in the line of fire. for the most part, people had left you alone and not dared asking about the issue, not even your own mum. but of course, gojo then had to enter and send you on this stupid mission that apparently had to be done in pairs. you would’ve been fine with anyone but noritoshi.
it was a rather unpleasant curse that you had to deal with, gojo told you that it required two people to keep it in check. though you didn’t understand his reasoning, seeing as noritoshi was a grade one sorcerer now. gojo had simply left you a note on your door after he left for his own business (pure cowardice, in your opinion). the note let you know that you would be staying overnight, gojo had already booked a hotel room for you and gave you instructions for the report that you had to fill out later. you were to meet up with noritoshi at the hotel before then heading out to investigate, work out a strategy before attacking. you sighed, tossing the bag near the door before crawling in your bed. how would you face him again, for an extended period of time, after all those years of silence? it was best to just get it over and done with, efficiently and quickly. depending on how fast you were, you might even be able to catch the last train home. you couldn’t sleep, feeling restless and anxious about the entire situation. still, you closed your eyes, trying to get your mind to rest. but all that floated around in your brain was the sound of rustling leaves, accompanied with soft lips on yours.
coincidentally, noritoshi was already in the city the curse was situated at, deciding to then check into the hotel first before you’d meet up. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous - he didn’t know how to navigate the entire mission with minimal communication. he knew you didn’t want to talk to him, choosing to give him curt and snappy responses instead. cooperating was out of question, you disliked his presence and he could feel it. seeing that gojo had coordinated this (instead of doing the mission himself, like he was supposed to), noritoshi didn't expect anything to go well. weeks prior, gojo had pestered him about the title that was bestowed upon him. "so what's your first deed as the kamo clan head?" he had questioned noritoshi, grinning from ear to ear. noritoshi had shrugged and simply told him that he would go about his day. there were no plans, not yet at least. "so you're not gonna go and woo your lady?" this all knowing idiot. just thinking about it made his blood boil again.
noritoshi’s patience was already wearing thin upon seeing that gojo had booked one room for the two of you. with one bed only. he swore that gojo's secret skill was to give everyone headaches. complaining was useless, the hotel couldn't give him another room as everything was booked out due to it being the summer holidays. they'd deal with it somehow, even if he would have to sleep on the floor. noritoshi was placing his bag and outerwear in the closet when the door clicked, signaling that you'd arrived. for a brief moment, your eyes met but as soon as they did, your eyes had flitted somewhere else. you placed your bag on a nearby chair, rummaging in it until you found your sword and other supplies that you would be taking with you.
noritoshi remained silent, not wanting to upset you. he waited until you were ready to go, soundlessly following you. it was awkward but expected. at first, he was somewhat able to tell what you were looking for and gave you pointers in the right direction. it seemed to irritate you and you started venturing off on your own, simply leaving him behind. it frustrated him, after all you had a job to be done and needed to be as careful as possible. as a result of your uncooperativeness, it took longer than usual to map out a strategy. even longer because you refused to follow his suggestions and rather made up your own, knowing full well that they weren't as efficient.
the aftermath was… rather unpleasant. while there were no casualties, the two of you looked absolutely filthy and were in need of a good shower. noritoshi was angry, he didn't want to blame you but the entire situation got incredibly messy because of your stubborn head. hadn't you attacked him on your own, he would've been able to get rid of the curse swiftly. you'd snapped at him, asking him what his problem was. after all, the mission was finished and over with. involuntarily, noritoshi had to snort. you came back to the hotel late, far past midnight and still, you had the nerve to nag on him the entire way there. he'd let you use the shower first before hopping in himself. without a word you left the hotel room to grab yourself some snacks, stomach growling in protest.
noritoshi was seldom petty; as he put his robe on and entered the room, discovering that you hadn't come back yet, he promptly decided to give you a taste of your own medicine and stubbornly take the bed. what would you do about it now? he was peacefully reading a book in the dim lighting of the room when you came back. you almost dropped the snacks that you grabbed, narrowing your eyes at him. noritoshi ignored you, turning another page in the book unbothered. huffing in annoyance, you stomped over to the other side of the bed. noritoshi continued to ignore you.
"i'm not sharing a bed with you," you stated, crossing your arms in defiance. you didn't have any other solution but you were not going down without a fight.
noritoshi just narrowed his eyes at you and replied equally annoyed: "childish much, huh? just put some pillows between us if it bothers you that much. we're adults, for fuck's sake. and we've shared beds before, so i don't know what your problem is."
at this point you were fuming, you'd rather sleep on the floor than go anywhere near him. you wanted to wipe that stupid look off his face because you knew he was right and he knew it too. you were being childish and you couldn't deny it. there was no real reason to the quarrel, you wanted to be as insufferable as possible.
"it's different now!" you hissed indignantly. noritoshi looks at you incredulously, not getting your point. "you're a man now and- and it makes me uncomfortable!"
truthfully, it was more the fact that you were painfully aware of his presence now. noritoshi hadn't noticed but your feelings came crashing back in, filling the entirety of your being with yearning. each and every time he came too close, you dashed and didn't give him the opportunity to look at your face. the pained expression on your face was obvious, you weren't able to hide it. despite the hostility, you couldn't help but care. no matter how much you denied it, you would always habour feelings for him and were very much attracted to him.
"that's why i told you to put pillows between us??"
okay, that's it. "i can't stand being anywhere near you! you're a prick and i hate you," you snarled at him. to seal the deal, you hurled one of the pillows at him and watched triumphantly as it hit his chest. the angry look in noritoshi's eyes, however, told you that you fucked up. gritting his teeth, he tossed his book aside and lunged to grab you. you squeaked in surprise and wiggled out of his grasp, wrestling out of his arms until you stumbled and awkwardly landed on the bed, beside him. noritoshi keeps a tight grip on you, glaring down at you. now you've really crossed the line.
all confidence left your body when he hissed: "what. is. your. problem." you fucked up, royally. once noritoshi was mad, you were in for a ride. it was best to keep him in good spirits, appease him a little so he would ease up. you scrambled panicky and tried to apologize, pathetically wiggling in his arms.
"i'm sorry, i'm sorry! i didn't mean it, please let me go!"
noritoshi kept a steel grip on you, moving between your legs and pinning your hands to the mattress. his face inched closer, you could feel his breath fanning across your neck. you stayed still, breath hitched as you waited for his next move. noritoshi's voice was raspy, lilting with an emotion that you couldn't decipher. "you're being a brat, y/n. look at yourself, you've hurt me… tsk, how are you going to make it up to me?"
you couldn't tell whether he was joking or genuinely hurt - your intuition told you that he was simply playing with you as payback. no matter how far away you strayed, you always seemed to find yourself back in this position. he was hypnotizing, alluring even. not giving him a reply, you stared at the ceiling, frozen in thought. while you'd been intimate on more than one occasion, noritoshi had never acted this way. so… possessive and strict, the tone in his voice told you that he wasn't up for any more quarreling. you were at a loss for words.
noritoshi, not being happy with not receiving an answer, decided to take matters in his own hands. he nipped at your neck playfully, making you yelp in surprise before pressing kisses against your neck. your skin was tingling, shots of electricity moving up your spine. when there was no objection on your end, noritoshi took it was an okay to continue. hands squeezing yours, he resumes his work, giving you soft and almost unnoticeable kisses. other times, he was pressing harder, sucking your skin gently. you wondered whether he left some marks - delirious on pleasure, your mind focused back on him.desire overtook you, no longer was your rationality at the forefront. in the depths of your heart, an emotion that rarely made an appearance emerged. it was flooding your senses, your conscious and mind, begging you to give in.
by the time noritoshi reached your lips, you were writhing. you expected him to kiss you but then he stopped, making you involuntarily whimper. you wanted more, wanted to savour it. a small smile found its way onto his lips as he brushed your hair back and cupped your chin, making you look at him.
and you swore that he knew, he just had to know what a mess he's already made of you in such a short amount of time as he asked, "what's wrong hm? what do you need, baby?" you fell for it, hook line and sinker. you thought to yourself, fuck it, the opportunity was right there. he may be an insufferable dick and you might fight more than you get along but the opportunity was there and god, did you want to be selfish. for just one night, you wanted to be his. you leaned up to kiss him but noritoshi pulled back, clicking his tongue, repeating again and this time more firmly, "what do you need?"
you couldn't help but stare at him, how his slightly damp hair framed his face, his chest that was exposed by the loosely tied bathrobe and how it revealed parts of his thigh. you wanted to see more of him, touch him. there was a burning feeling inside your chest, it was clawing at your skin, trying to break free. you grew more restless as he stayed still and gave you a stern look until you grasped the hem of his sleeves and whimpered quietly, "please kiss me."
it felt like an eternity until he pressed his lips against yours, everything that was so unmistakably him flooded your senses. his scent wrapped around you until your brain couldn't make out any more coherent thoughts other than him. 'toshi, 'toshi, 'toshi, your 'toshi. he moved so languidly; his lips were warm and soft but bruising at the same time, kissing you with fervour. you began to ease into the kiss, letting go of all your inhibitions. you could worry about it later, you'd decided, this is a future you problem. you wiggled in his hold, hands coming up to push at his bathrobe. noritoshi didn't budge and continued to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip - your hands became more restless, desperate to touch him. he made an unenthused noise, biting your bottom lip as if warning you to not push him. still, he somehow obliged and sat back on his heels, taking his bathrobe off and throwing it haphazardly to the side.
he looked ethereal, somewhere in the distance you thought you can hear angels singing. you reached out to touch him again, earning you yet another warning glance from him. “where do you get the confidence to do whatever you want after that little stunt you pulled earlier?” he questioned you in a low voice. whatever snarky remark you had on your tongue was thrown out of the window when noritoshi leaned down to touch you, slowly pushing your oversized shirt up to reveal your shorts, then your bra.
your breath hitched in your throat, you couldn't tell what he was thinking because even in this state he kept his perfect poker face on. and when he undressed you, you almost felt embarrassed of how eager you were to rid yourself of your clothes. yet you felt exposed - noritoshi didn't make a sound as he just studied you as if you were a luxurious meal presented on a silver plate, the sound of his breathing alone making you squirmish. he didn't give you the satisfaction of a compliment nor did he let you know what he thought, instead leaning down to kiss you again.
before you could deepen the kiss, he’s already moved down to your neck. you mewled in disappointment, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your hands in his hair. this time, he let you touch him, too absorbed in his mission to paint the skin of your neck in hues of red and purple. noritoshi moved lower when he was finally satisfied with his work of art, you’re a great canvas, he thought to himself. the burning feeling in your chest was flaring up again, you felt uncomfortably hot and the only relief you got was him touching you. he must know, he was doing this on purpose. you were convinced. a surprised gasp left your lips when his tongue swiped across your nipple before wrapping his lips around it. his fingers flicked the other one and- oh god did it feel so electrifying, so delicious, so good. you moaned his name, gently tugging on his hair as he continued his ministrations. “noritoshi,” you whimpered, trying to grind against his thigh. “please- please touch me.” he moved faster than you could react, snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin.
“i am touching you,” noritoshi responded matter-of-factly, cupping your breasts. “is this not enough?” you shook your head, making him chuckle. he took his sweet time, lathering your chest with the utmost attention. at this point you were sure you’d soaked through your panties and onto the sheets and you were desperate. finally, his lips left your nipple, his breath grazing them, making you shiver. he seemed to enjoy it, enjoy the effect he has on you, how you were writhing for him and him only. with swift movements, he removed your panties and your legs were thrown over his shoulders - how are his shoulders so broad - and he pressed kisses to your inner thighs. “look at you,” he cooed, glancing up at you. “you’re so wet for me and i haven’t even touched you here yet. are you craving me?”
“yes,” you mewled truthfully, wiggling your hips slightly. you missed how his face lights up in delight, loving how you’re slowly but surely coming undone for him. he was placing kisses everywhere but where you wanted him, where you needed him. you were at his mercy, he alone decided the pace. the desperate little tugs at his hair left him unbothered, you couldn't even move properly because he was keeping a tight grip on your hips, holding them down onto the mattress. “do you want me?” you nodded quickly. ���then beg.”
"i'm not- i'm not gonna fucking b-" you didn't get to finish your sentence as noritoshi gave your inner thigh a bite.
"language," he hissed in irritation. "we can do this all night, baby. i don't have any qualms about keeping you here, making you squirm until you know not to treat me like that." to emphasize his threat, his hands languidly stroked your inner thighs, inching closer to your heat. goosebumps raised across your skin. noritoshi paid no mind to your laboured breathing or how you stared at him in disbelief. you would not beg him more than this, this stupid asshole, who did he think he is to expect you to do as he says? as if sensing that your attention wasn't on him anymore, one of his hands reached up to pinch your nipple.
you felt his fingers grazing your pussy, flicking over your clit but not quite touching it. yet the pleasure, coupled with the sharp pain of his pinching, was enough to make you delirious. you moaned his name, hips rutting up slightly to meet his hand. noritoshi pulled away abruptly and made you whine in frustration. "noritoshi!" you whimpered again, closing your eyes in embarrassment. "please just- just touch m-"
you felt another, harder pinch, tingles shooting straight to your core. "look at me," noritoshi growled and you opened your eyes quickly, not wanting to disappoint him again.
"please touch me, please just… i need you, need your lips or fingers," you struggled to find the right words, huffing in frustration at your weak attempt to persuade him. "please make me cum, please. i'll be good for you, i promise, i promise. wanna be good for you."
a sardonic smile graced noritoshi's lips, your begging music to his ears. he almost wished you could see yourself like this - the yearning evident in your eyes, your glossy eyes. what would you say? how quickly your resolve had crumbled, even though you'd vowed to yourself to keep him at an arm's length away from you. what was more heavenly to his ears are your moans and he intended to draw every last bit out of you tonight.
when his tongue finally made contact with your cunt, a loud moan leaves your lips, you almost sob in relief. your thighs trembled slightly, threatening to close but noritoshi was quick to pry them open and delved deeper into your heat. he alternated between lapping at your folds, then dragging his tongue across your clit before giving it a suck. your hips rocked against his face, meeting his movements as if it was already second nature to them. you thought you were seeing stars when you inched closer to your climax. tugging at his hair you whimpered out his name, letting him know that you're close, so close. that's when he pulled away, smirking at you as your high slowly ebbed away. you made a noise in protest, brows pinching in frustration but noritoshi just cooed at you condescendingly.
"you seem to forget who's in control here," he tsked at you, dragging his thumb across your clit. your hips jerked. "but, baby, you look so pitiful, i might just feel sorry for you."
hope sparked in your eyes when he pressed a brief kiss to your lips before slipping his fingers past your folds, his thumb drawing circles on your clit. "ride my fingers," he commanded and you reacted immediately, eagerly rutting against his fingers. you missed the dark glint in his eyes, the look that tells you you were not easily let off the hook whatsoever. pleasure was clouding your judgement, heightening your sensitivity to his touch. a loud moan fell from your lips when noritoshi curled his fingers, hitting a spot that otherwise was difficult for you to reach. your hand came up to cover your mouth, too embarrassed about other guests possibly hearing you.
noritoshi withdrew his fingers, thumb pressing against your clit. you gasped desperately, pawing at his chest to plead him to continue. "i want to hear you. don't you dare hide your moans," he told you, only sliding his fingers back into you when you complied. noritoshi was still kneeling, watching as you moved your hips against his fingers with fascination. while you'd kept a steady rhythm at the beginning, it was getting more and more sporadic. you were close again, noritoshi could tell. and yet it wasn't enough, he had to get you closer to the edge to then break you after.
"o- oh fuck," you cursed, gripping the sheets tightly as noritoshi moved his fingers, repeatedly hitting the spot that made your toes curl. you were to close, you could cum, soon-
"noritoshi!" a frustrated sob resounded from you as he pulled away, looking down at you with a satisfied smirk. your hands came up to wipe the tears that were welling in your eyes. you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying as you watched him pop his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence from them. the sight alone made you feel hot and bothered. in the dim light of the room, noritoshi looked downright sinful. the way his broad frame was casting a shadow over your form, his glistening eyes, the sheen of sweat on his body and how his hair was hanging in his face.
"please let me cum, please! i- i want you so bad, want you in me… noritoshi, please give me it," you begged quietly, crawling towards him. noritoshi felt his heart soften at your cute face - you were so easy to read, he enjoyed teasing you. small hands reached out for the bulge in his boxers, experimentally pressing and nudging at it. noritoshi hissed uncomfortably; he was painfully hard and ready to cum as well but he couldn't, not yet. wanted to play with you more, mapping out the entirety of your body until he memorized how you reacted to his touch.
swiftly flipping positions, he pulled you on top of him, placing you directly above his crotch. you sank down immediately, sighing shakily as you pressed your cunt against the bulge. the boxers had to come off, they were the last barrier. you had to feel his skin on yours, wanted to be closer. noritoshi's hands shot out to stop you, giving you a warning look. you understood, withdrawing your arms to rest on your sides. pressing his bulge against you, he guided your hips to move against it, folds dragging across the fabric of his boxers. the friction was delicious, especially when he rutted against you, pressing against your clit. it took you a few tries until you figured out a comfortable rhythm, placing your hands against his chest as you moved on your own.
noritoshi kept his eyes on you. brushing your hair out of your face so he could get a better look at you, he then rested them near your thighs. "are you close?" he inquired when your movements became quicker and you nodded in reply, giving him a pleading look. he raised his eyebrows at you, shaking his head ever so slightly. "you don't get to cum without my permission."
he could see the conflict and hesitation, dancing in your eyes, how you were contemplating to go against his commands. noritoshi's heart filled with pride when you slowed down, thighs trembling from the restraint you kept on yourself. "good girl," he rewarded you, leaning up to kiss you. you whimpered against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. you were a sight to behold, noritoshi mused. slick spread across the fabric of his boxers and your thighs, kiss-bruised lips and the love bites that were blooming across your chest. he was proud to be able to have this effect on you.
it didn't take long until you were close again, this time begging and pleading him to let you continue. noritoshi supposed he toyed around enough, ready to give you what you were so desperately craving. lifting you up slightly, he pushed his boxers down and reached to the side, fumbling with the drawers of the night table before being able to pull out a condom. you watched in curiosity, as he put it on then lined his member up against your pussy. he dragged the head of his cock against your clit a couple of times, making you jump in surprise before letting you sink down. a long, relieved moan left your lips as you felt him fill you up to the brim. you'd never felt this full and good. jerking your hips against his slightly, your legs trembled as he perfectly hit that spot inside you effortlessly. his name fell from your lips like a mantra, letting everyone know that he was the one pleasuring you.
noritoshi let you adjust to him before wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place, driving his hips up against yours in an almost punishing tempo. your lips parted in a silent scream, no sounds leaving them other than heavy breaths. "f- fuck, noritoshi! i'm so close, please let me have it, please-" you begged sobbing. you didn't think you could survive another edging, it would utterly crush you. knowing that you were at his mercy, you complied with his orders. never had you felt this much pleasure, with anyone. noritoshi accomplished what others could never - setting your nerves ablaze with a simple touch.
"cum for me." your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, leaving you writhing in his arms until you rode it out. noritoshi continued to move against you in a languid tempo, lovingly pressing kisses across your face. you slumped against his body exhausted, aftershocks still wracking through your body. he stroke your back gently, giving you a short kiss. "can you take another one?" he asked, making you look at him. though your mind was hazy, you could tell that he was caring, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible despite his mean side. you nodded, your words slurred as you told him: "mhmm, still want you, all of you."
noritoshi was laying you on the mattress, freezing mid-way as he hovered above you. could it be? there was no way. he brushed the thought off quickly, leaning down to kiss you. you sloppily returned the kiss, blindly moving your hands around until you found his, intertwining them happily. swiftly, he entered you again - now taking his sweet time. the pace was slow but filled with force, making you see stars. you wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his skin. you blinked in confusion as noritoshi whispered sweet nothings into your ear. tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him - you wanted him, so so much that it hurt you. you imagined you weren't in this situation, that this was simply intimacy between lovers. that you were his and he was yours, with no care in the world.
driving his hips against yours faster now, you could tell that he was close. lifting your hips to meet his movement, you whimpered against his lips. you wanted to pleasure him as much as he did you. the sight of his screwed shut eyes, panting heavily as he came, it nearly knocked the wind out of your lungs. noritoshi buried his face in the crook of your neck, whimpering quietly as he thrusted a few more times before coming to a halt. for a few minutes, you remain in this position, basking in the afterglow. he removes himself from you, telling you to stay put as he left to get some wet towels from the bathroom. as you laid there, your cunt wasn't the only thing that felt empty.
your eyes were glossing over and you were once again reminded of the fact that you couldn't have him. that he’s not your ‘toshi. you sat up slowly, spotting the mirror across the room. you stared at your reflection in your mirror, horrified at all the marks noritoshi had left behind and suddenly it dawned on you that you don’t understand why. you didn't care about each other - why would he mark you like this? your heartbeat sped up at the thought of him possibly, maybe, returning your feelings. that he wasn't just toying with your feelings to get back at you.
noritoshi returned, giving you a small smile as he signaled you to lift your arms a little so he could wipe you down. the gentleness in his actions made you sniffle emotionally; he paid attention to every single detail, making sure not to miss a spot. once done, he placed the towel on the nearby chair then returning to wrap you in the blankets and cradling you against his chest like a baby. the sound of his breath nearly lulled you into sleep. you leaned against his chest, sinking into the blankets. "are you okay? was i too rough?" noritoshi asked after a moment of silence. you didn't reply. why was he acting like this? as if you were a couple, as if he really cared.
"y/n? you don't have to reply, but at least give me a hand sign, so i know you're okay," he repeated again, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. you turned your head away from him, trying to hide your tears. it wasn't long before you started crying uncontrollably, hiding your face in your hands. noritoshi started panicking, fussing over you and tried to pry your hands away so you would look at him. repeatedly shaking your head, you pushed him away from you.
"w- why couldn't you always be this gentle to me?" the words finally left your mouth, accusatory. "i- i didn't deserve any of this treatment and i still struggle to understand why it happened. i should hate you, hate you so much and yet i don't? why can't you love me the way i love you?"
speechless, noritoshi pulled away from you, arms sinking to his sides. it made you sob even harder, thinking that he was going to leave you again, like he always did. he never stayed, only came to wreck havoc, leaving you to pick up the pieces. "y/n, i'm sorry, i-" he drew you in, pressing you against his chest. you were confused at your own outbreak of emotions, not sure how to calm down. "i'm not sure what you thought, but i meant it when i told you that i love you, all those years back," noritoshi mumbled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
you shook your head vehemently. "i don't believe that, not for one second. you've hurt me for so long and suddenly you had a change of heart?"
"i know it's hard to believe, but i promise i'm not lying. i do love you. with all my heart," noritoshi lifted your chin slightly, wiping the tears from your eyes. gently, he kissed you. "back then, i wasn't able to tell you but… things have changed now and i'll tell you, okay? but not now, tomorrow-"
"no! you'll just leave again and act like nothing happened and i-" you panicked, clinging onto him as dread washed over you again. he was going to leave again, the mission was over after all and you'd go separate ways again.
"i'm staying." noritoshi said firmly, holding your hands so you couldn't flail around anymore. "i'm not leaving you, okay? go to sleep, i know you're exhausted… when you wake up, i'll be there. we'll discuss things in the morning."
"promise?"
"i promise."
you didn't know why but this time, you trusted him. at least a little bit more than before. nodding slightly, you pressed your small frame against his. noritoshi's calming scent wrapped around you, lulling you into sleep. he watched as you fell asleep in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he settled as well, closing his eyes.
"i love you, y/n."
p.s.: i hurt myself writing this too haha but i swear this was it with the angst
#jujutsu kaisen#noritoshi kamo#kamo noritoshi#noritoshi#noritoshi x reader#noritoshi kamo x reader#kamo noritoshi x reader#noritoshi kamo x you#noritoshi x you#kamo noritoshi x you#noritoshi kamo imagines#kamo noritoshi imagines#noritoshi imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#fic: sanguine#writing
266 notes
·
View notes