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finniestoncrane · 7 months ago

Text

Almost There

Capullo!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 4k commission: eddie desperately trying to get someone to like him, but failing a bit miserably before he starts succeeding, as he was always bound to 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: whiny/desperate eddie, teensy bit of angst

With a sigh of resignation, Eddie looked out of his window on to the streets of Gotham below. People, like ants, below the feet of a God they didn’t even know they worshipped yet. But he could take very little joy in that usually comforting fact, as he knew there was one ant of great subordination who refused to bend to his will. And that was despite knowing everything he could offer them in exchange for their undying and unquestioning devotion.

No amount of anything he had would fix this situation. This was him now. He was stuck. Edward Nygma. Stuck. Stuck on a puzzle, on a question, on a task, for which there seemed to be no possible outcome for. Or at least, not one that he deemed reasonable, not one that he would be happy with. Which, after all, in the mind of the Riddler, was not the correct answer at all.

The phone he clutched in his hand was quickly tossed onto the nearest surface. It was just a hopeless distraction at this point. A symbol of futility. Of his seeming failure.

Eddie’s fingers were getting tangled in his fringe. The greasy strands of his usually neatly swept back shock of red hair were getting caught as he twisted and pulled at them. Teasing at them nervously, he paced around his pre-furnished, and entirely impersonal, apartment. Looking at the extravagant wall clock he sighed and groaned, letting it form a soft growl as he ripped a few extra strands of his hair out in his closed and trembling fists. He was thankful for the thick, soundproof walls in this building. It meant he could talk, or groan, or yell, to himself as loudly as he wanted without fear of anyone hearing his plans. Or his pathetic whining.

“How long does it take someone to answer a text? Is she really that stupid? And if she’s that dull and so incapable of typing a message out, do I really want to be associated with her?”

His self-serving insults regarding your intelligence only helped to make him feel worse about himself. You were perfect. Beautiful, but in a way he’d never really seen before. Interesting, more so than any other woman he’d bothered giving the time of day or willingly chose to get to know. And you weren’t stupid. In fact, you seemed scarily competent and able to hold your own against him. Which he hated.

Another thirty seconds of anxious pacing, as he wondered what could possibly keep someone busy for this long. It wasn’t as if you could have anything important to do. Or anything more important than responding to his message. You weren’t him, after all. He was the busy one, the important one, the mastermind genius that had barely had time to focus on anything but himself. What could possibly be distracting you?

With a finger raised almost comically in the air, one floating light bulb short of looking like a caricature, Eddie shouted out.

“Unless! Unless… she’s really not as stupid as I thought. And… all this… is a clever ploy! Oh! Oh-ho-ho! That is… well, that’s frankly almost brilliant. I hate to admit it, but credit where credit is due, I suppose.”

He picked up his phone from where he had tossed it, laying on the polished marble surface of the sideboard he hated so much but refused to give up, as he’d been assured by the realtor that it was something a woman would appreciate. And of course “a handsome bachelor such as himself would definitely be looking to entice a woman”. He was glad that realtor was dead.

Gripping the soft velvet on the back of the sofa, he leapt over it, landing with a thud with his legs up on the cushions, head leaning back on the soft pillows as his red hair spread messily behind him. And he held his phone steadily in his hands, trying hard to exude confidence, even falsified, just to give himself something to cling to.

Behind him, the large, floor to ceiling windows gave view of the sunset, which was slowly stealing the remaining light from Gotham and sinking it once again into complete, dangerous darkness. And as that beautiful sight disappeared, wasted entirely on Eddie, he typed a quick message out, one that he felt sounded casual, despite it being agonised over in his hyperactive mind.

“Hey, you get my text? Maybe you missed it. Maybe you missed it on purpose. I’m on to you, baby ;)”

He paused for a moment, reading over the words on the screen with a twisted expression of disgust.

“Hm… maybe not baby… at least not yet.”

Deleting the final word, he read the text again. And then again. And then once more, before he decided to delete the whole thing. Throwing his phone to the floor with an exasperated grunt, he realised that you might have been watching his little ellipses, the telling dots that screamed “HERE COMES EDDIE! TYPING ANOTHER MESSAGE! LOOK HOW DESPERATE HE IS!”

Up until recently, everything had been going exactly his way. He’d scammed his bosses, embezzled expertly from the company that owed him everything and had until that point given him nothing, and bought himself a luxurious and ridiculous apartment that he had wild dreams of turning into a bachelor pad, with endless parties that revitalised every night with new guests and new drinks and new experiences. Money hadn’t quite been enough to buy him the necessary friends or women, however. Although, when he thought about it, technically his money had bought him the company of several pleasant enough women. But it felt like an offence to him that he had to pay for their services, to beg, essentially, for their affections, and then had to add on an extra few if he wanted to have them pretend to listen to him as he talked to them. By his calculations, women should have been falling for him. They should have been paying him for the opportunity to be talked at. He was Edward Nygma! He was intelligent, he was handsome, and now, he was wealthy.

Realistically, there was an obvious solution here. And an easy one at that. He could go out, flash some cash, and find the first suitably pretty girl who reacted positively to his shtick or his flaunted wealth and take her home. But that routine had gotten old, it felt like those cheap sudoku puzzle books you could buy at the corner store. Easy, too easy. Though he might be loathe to admit that to anyone, given that he felt it was part of his reputation, his lore, his borderline misogynistic use of woman as a status symbol as an essential aspect of his character by this point. In his illusions of grandeur, and his misinformed concept that everyone knew who he was, he felt like everyone knew that about him, this staple of his personality, especially the girls at the clubs he frequented when his loneliness became intolerable. What Eddie wanted in a woman reflected his desires for the entirety of Gotham, and eventually the world. He wanted immediate adoration with nothing in return. An endless willingness to please him. And key, above all: subservience. Complete and utter subservience.

So why was he all of the sudden chasing someone who refused to give him the time of day? Who couldn’t even reply to a text with due diligence? He mused out loud, pondering this interesting conundrum, before he spoke his assumed answer.

“The… challenge? Maybe?”

As he spoke the answer to his empty apartment, he realised the confusion within him. One part of him knew the answer, the other too stubborn to learn it or accept it. He supposed it was the right answer though. It made sense, after all. Everything had been too easy lately. Very little ever posed a threat or a challenge to him anymore. And life had, unfortunately, become boring. Perhaps the fact that his plans and dreams were falling into his lap made him question whether or not he was actually achieving anything. This one act, going against the grain, against everything that he was, and wanted, to his core, felt like the first time he had actually engage his brain in something. And that was good practice, because sure enough, when his greater plans were in motion, he would have to be well-versed in thinking on his feet. Especially if he wanted to outwit the GCPD and his future, pointy-eared nemesis.

And of course, besides all of that, he was Edward Nygma. There wasn’t a puzzle he couldn’t solve, no challenge he couldn’t eventually meet. The last thing he was going to do was let some ungrateful woman get him down. No way. Even if it took all of his determination and might, and every ounce of his brain power, which as previously concluded was not really up to much else at the moment, he would have you.

With a renewed, and somewhat misplaced, sense of confidence in his abilities, something he found hard to admit had even been diminished in the first place by your ridiculous behaviour, Eddie typed a simple message. Admiring it before sending it as though it were a piece of minimalistic art. A masterpiece. One to be looked on by the ages.

“Hey.”

That was enough. And quite frankly, it was all you deserved right now after your negligence and rude behaviour. He would let you come running to him. Let you get intrigued by his casual interest. You could – no – you would come to him. As he sat, grinning smugly at his self-congratulatory pride, his phone pinged. The small chime was enough to make him jump, his heart thumping as it missed a beat, a strange sense of arousal that surged through him at the mere suggestion of you paying a tiny iota of attention to him. And as he picked up his phone, he muttered to himself.

“A response already! See, Nygma, you know what you’re doing.”

Looking at the screen of his phone, his grin was immediately forced down by the immense emotional gravity into a large, comical frown, his brows scowling as he read the brief message you had decided to grace him with.

“What do you want?”

Seething, and through gritted teeth, Edward hissed into the empty apartment.

“Oh, you little…”

He managed o stop himself before he said something even he might have regretted. But still, enraged by your lack of interesting and your crude wording, Eddie felt his fingers tense around his phone painfully. Any more pressure, or strength in his slender body, and he may have cracked the device in half. Relaxing his digits, he typed a quick message in response, pleased with himself, but still deeply upset with yours. If that’s how you wanted to play it, then you could get ready to be met with a formidable opponent.

“Sorry, might be the wrong number. I have two girls’ numbers in my phone right now without names yet… which one are you?”

That would show you. False competition for his attention might engage you better. If you thought there was even the most slender, most remote chance, that you might not get to be with him, then it might encourage you to a little bit more receptive. Or at least, slightly more polite. But your response, coming incredibly quick, only served to snuff out that idea.

“I’m the one you should delete and block.”

“Fuck!”

Eddie tossed the phone once more, letting it land with a thud on the soft carpet on the floor as he rolled over on the sofa, burying his head in the cushions and letting out a variety of grunts and groans, though mostly mewling and pathetic whimpers. After a suitable amount of time spent feeling sorry for himself, and trying to convince his own ego that the backfiring of that particular approach was down to your difficult personality, he rolled back over. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he tugged nervously at his hair again as he tried to reason with the silence.

“Come on, Nygma. Solve the puzzle. She’s a Rubik’s cube, and you need to get your fingers all over her, twist her the right way until she makes sense.”

With an exasperated sigh, he reached to the floor and picked up his phone. There was a chance, he thought, that being himself might, for the first time ever, work when dealing with a woman. After all, it was foolish to keep trying the same methods and approaches, madness to think it might yield different results. Something completely different, something out of left field. A shock factor. It might just be the thing to loosen you up.

“Perhaps…”

Delighting in the idea that perhaps he was the solution to the puzzle after all, he typed out a new message. Very flirty, very cheeky, and typically Eddie all over.

“Oh! It’s you. I’d recognise that attitude anywhere. Spicy. Off-putting. I won’t be deleting you, so what do you want your name to be in my contacts? Would ‘babe’ do?”

You were typing already. Hook, line and sinker. He had you, and even if you were only replying in order to tell him off, at least you were communicating with him. It was better than nothing. And it meant he might have another chance before you decided to block him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Ok then. What about ‘cutie’?”

“If you think ‘cutie’ suits me, then I think you still have my identity mistake.”

“Ok, fine then. If we’re going for descriptive accuracy, how would ‘Stone Cold Bitch From Hell’ suit you?”

The back and forth stopped. There was no immediate response from you, and panic began to settle in Eddie’s chest. If this backfired, it would take a lot to come back from it, effort he wasn’t sure he was ready to put into even a committed relationship let alone a hook-up with someone he barely knew. Even he might not be able to rescue this situation from the hole he had dug for it. Maybe, he should have clarified it was a joke. Text you back immediately with a smile and a laughing emoji. After all, not everyone was as intelligent as he was, and the nuances of his humour did often go unrecognised or misconstrued, through no fault of his own obviously.

When his phone finally pinged, Eddie held his breath as he looked at the screen, his skin dimpling and his hairs standing on edge as he waited for the disastrous consequences of his actions to rear their ugly head.

“Actually, that one kind of suits me. Maybe you’re a bit more perceptive than I thought you were. And don’t get excited, because that really isn’t saying a lot.”

With a smug grin washing over his face, Eddie elected not to respond any further than sending you one solitary winking face. That would do, for now. He had to take it slowly, even still. Weeks of pandering to you, of trying to be someone else. And now, finally, he found out that you were one of the rare few who responded positively to his true self. A woman of refined taste, it seemed. But he was still wary, cautious.

As he got himself ready for bed, he thought back on how much time he had wasted so far on you, trying to convince you that he was perfect for you from behind a façade that you clearly had no interest in. He’d learnt the lesson, yet again, the hard way. Be himself.

“Be yourself, Eddie. That’s how you’ve won everything you have so far in life. Who can resist your charms? I mean, come on!”

He grinned wide into the mirror above the sink, shooting himself a quick wink, sly smile spreading further. He brushed his teeth quickly, spitting into the basin before focusing his attentions back on his reflection, picking at his teeth and combing back his hair before stopping to pose in front of the mirror. He flexed his almost non-existent muscles, self-obsession and illusions of grandeur once again assuring him he had the body of an Adonis, and then he laughed.

“I am genuinely almost jealous of her. She gets to be with this! Hoe wonderful for her. I truly am a gift.”

Thoroughly enamoured with himself, he took his self-satisfaction and headed to his bed to celebrate it in the disgustingly lewd way only he could. And, surprisingly, beyond the thoughts of how wonderful he was, he was thinking of you as he congratulated himself over, and over again.

And he was still thinking of you in the morning when he woke up. It had been a long time, concerningly so, since someone other than himself, or that ridiculous vigilante with his tight-fitting costume and penchant for leather, had been able to steal the focus of his attention. The excitement at the novelty of the situation had him giddy as he got out of bed. Purposefully ignoring the pull of desire to check his phone for any notifications, he opted to primp and preen first. The longer he held off checking, the longer he could live in ignorant bliss of the true, and potentially heartbreaking, outcome.

“Schrödinger’s booty call…”

He winced at his own joke, the thought of it distressing him. What if that’s all he could get out of you, in the end, after all of this?

“OK, but do I really want more?”

Yes was the answer to that, although his empty apartment could hardly scream that back at him. This was beyond a quickie, a one-night stand with someone he found physically enticing. He had deeper feelings for you, maybe only slightly underneath his callous and crude surface. But they were definitely there. What they might amount to in the future even he couldn’t be sure of yet. But all he knew was that once with you would not be enough. Not for the trouble he considered himself having gone through for you.

Finally dressed and smothered in his obnoxious cologne, Eddie turned his attentions back to his bedroom as he left the ensuite to find out whether he had a reason to live this morning. And if you hadn’t replied, his plans to destroy Gotham would be enacted far sooner, spurred on by your cruelty.

Luckily, however, for the citizens of Gotham and Eddies own ego, given that with so little preparation he was sure to fall flat on his face if he commenced his grand scheme so early, he had one message and it was from you.

“Nygma. That’s right, consider yourself lucky that I remembered your name. You’re good with computers, yes? I seem to recall you bragging about it.”

“Ha ha! I’ve got you now!”

A typical ploy! How many times had he asked for help from someone, which he never needed given he was the smartest and most competent person who had ever lived, just to get closer to them or to spend time with them? Far too many for him to count. He was very aware of what you were trying to do. And he was more than happy to play ignorant, to play along and give you what you so clearly wanted.

On the edge of his seat, quite literally he realised as he shuffled back into the centre of his bed, his fingers tapped quickly, furiously, as he replied to your message.

“Obviously, of course I am. It’s kind of my thing. Although, you obviously knew that.”

Was he too smug? Maybe… But you clearly liked him. It was impossible for you to deny it now. It was only a matter of time before he lured you into his web and kept you there… willingly of course… unless…

Eddie’s more villainous daydream was cut short, thankfully, by the slight vibration of his phone against his palm, a tingle sent through him like an electric shock as he took a breath and looked to his screen, or looked to his future.

“Great. Is this guy any good? I need someone to fix my laptop and he looks competent.”

Attached to your words was a screenshot of some less man, the Computer King he was calling himself, who was offering extortionate prices for no doubt shoddy, subpar work, regardless of what it was that you needed.

Were you joking? He couldn’t be sure. It could be an effort to make him jealous, retaliation for his own efforts the night before. It felt as though you were goading him into offering himself up on a platter, detailing his skills and positive attributes like you were interviewing him for the job of “gracious boyfriend”. And that just wouldn’t stand, not even…

“It would stand though. Only for her. But still, irritatingly so…”

Laying back in his bed with a soft thump, he clutched the phone to his chest, reminiscent of how he had been the night before, and so many other moments leading up to this one. You were in his head, and he could feel you slipping into every other facet of his being. But still, he was slightly pissed off with your constant back and forth, your cold attitude, flaunting the concept of communication in front of him and then snatching it away cruelly with the suggestion that you’d be giving it to some other, lesser, man.

Fed up, and already annoyed at this early hour, he typed a droll message.

“Yep. He’d be good enough for you, anyway.”

With a falsified grin that faded into a genuinely emotional frown, he placed his phone down and went to the kitchen to grab some coffee. He managed to convince himself he’d done the right thing. Pretending to be proud of himself, he sipped slowly, a dramatic “ah” at the end of each slurp as he continued the farce. Who he was performing to, he wasn’t even sure himself. But given that he spent most of his time in solitary isolation, self-congratulatory arrogance with the aim of tricking himself into feeling comfortable was the least strange thing he did alone.

When he realised he hadn’t heard his phone chime, though, he began to feel tense and nervous. He was fidgeting, tapping the edge of his coffee mug with his fingers, shaking his leg, his foot bouncing on the ledge of the breakfast bar. One moment of, albeit in his mind rightfully placed, anger, and he’d undone his weeks of hard work.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

In a rare moment of self-reflection that bordered on a breakthrough, Eddie considered his life as a whole, and how many things had actually gone right for him. The years of slaving away at a job that didn’t respect or value him, his tortuous formative years filled with bullying and excommunication from every social group he had tried to enter, his lack of luck in social situations with anyone he dared to interact with, his formidable and deeply unloving parents. The possible, but likely inevitable, end to his great schemes when the vigilante of Gotham decided to crack down on him. Surely, all of these amounted to an understanding that Eddie might just not be lucky, or made for good fortune. Or, could it be that Eddie was the problem? That he was the common denominator in all of the unfortunate things in his life?

It was a self-hating thread that he rarely pulled, for fear that his entire existence would become unravelled. But then, a glimmer of hope as he heard the chime, finally.

Tripping over himself in a bid to reach the phone as quickly as possible, he read the message wide-eyed and hopefully.

“I don’t want to regret this, Eddie. You seem to not understand. If I get another guy to look at my laptop for me, then I can meet you for a coffee while he works on it. You seem like you might be adequate entertainment for an hour. And besides, I feel like hating myself today. So?”

Eddie’s wide smirk pressed into his cheeks as he sighed dreamily. With any luck, you’d be willing to commit to hating yourself every day if he could just make sure this date went well. And since he had already managed to get this far with you, he assumed his natural charms would see him the rest of the way.

#finnie writes #riddler #the riddler #riddler x reader #riddler x you #edward nygma #zero year riddler #zero year!riddler #capullo riddler #capullo!riddler #riddler smut #x reader

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ruruumin · 1 year ago

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his equation.

₊˚ ᗢ alhaitham x gn!reader.

⤷ logic doesn't exist in love. but he'll force it.

you liked to think of yourself as an irrational person. you believed that love is nothing more but a force that is created when two people find attraction in each other. you thought something like that was the true definition of romance. that this is what it felt like to be in love. that this was the feeling you get when you finally found the one.

you thought you found the one in alhaitham. the two of you seemed like a nice pair. although a little dysfunctional and unpopular, the two of you found comfort in each other. you enjoyed staying over at his house, reading books on his lap as he combed through your hair. you liked the routine of coming home after a long day of class and jumping into his arms. you liked how common it was for him to hold you when things got hard. you liked listening to his silly rambles about things he learned about kaveh. you liked all these qualities about him.

he taught you many things. you learned to love someone again after your last relationship. you learned what it felt like to be hopelessly devoted to someone. you learned about the importance of patience. you learned how difficult it was to argue with a man like him. you learned how frustrating it is to be lied to. and all of these lessons brought you to a point in your life where you ask yourself: was it all worth it?

is it worth staying with a man who could no longer show you the same feverish love he once had for you? is it worth pretending that the man you loved, was still alive and inside? you stay up late at night, pulling on your hair and screaming into your pillow. you want to let him go. you want to move on. yet you can’t. not when he tells you late at night how much he misses you. not when he tells you how much you mean to him in this cold, emotionless world.

you don’t know what is right or wrong. you scratch your head, begging your friends for an answer you already know. he wasn’t the same man you fell in love with. he wasn’t the same, kind-hearted man that showed you that this world had a place for you. now he’s telling everyone around him that you were the irrational one. the hopeless one. the one that can’t change. the one that can’t move on. and you laugh to yourself, knowing that you’ve been played like a fool for him.

from the start, you were nothing more than someone he wanted to fix. he wanted to see what made you tick, he wanted to learn more about you, and when he found what he needed, he put you back on the shelf. he gave you love because it seemed like the remedy. it worked well. only for a little while until the cracks began to show and break through the stage ground.

he treats you as if you never mattered to him, and you don’t know how to feel when you remember those sleepless nights with him. he doesn’t look at you the same way he did before. he doesn’t even respect you. and worst of all, you think he doesn’t see you as human. you’re just an irrationality in this equation he’s desperate to solve. just a pawn he wants to correct.

you were supposed to be "fixed" by him and nothing more.

#₊˚ ᗢ kirimoochi #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #alhaitham #al haitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #al haitham x reader #angst #angst with no comfort

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ykiwrite · 2 years ago

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golden rush

description: breaking down your and jenna's golden globe awards

words: ~1.4k

warnings: none?

Sound of black nails continuously colliding with the table underneath kept you on your toes.

Well, it did for the first ten minutes.

Now it's merely a background noise.

Jenna was devoted to the computer screen that was unhealthy-distance close to her face. Folded in the chair, she found strange comfort, with head on her knees and arms trapping them. She didn't move since the nominees broadcast began. With occasional remarks of "ha, i knew it", if the guess was correct.

"You already know you're gonna get it. So stop stressing out. We don't need next 'big thing' retiring early 'cause of stress." You said fully assured.

The obvious success of Jenna's shows, movies, even her appearance brought an enormous amount of spotlight. Less to you, more for her. Although sometimes, with the very few facts known to the public about you, it felt pressuring enough just being by her side. Let alone be in her position.

You can't really wrap your head around how she deals with thousand pair of eyes prying on her daily. Just like vultures circling above her head. It was fair she feels the way she does right now. Nervous, scared, debating if this career was worth it. You did voice the concern, of course. Her answer stayed the same each time. It went like;

"You know, i'm not alone. I got you so it's not that bad as you make it sound."

"It's whatever. That's not more important than you."

Maybe if she was less of a hopeless romantic it would be better. But who are you to argue if it keeps her steady? Not that you are against it either.

Still, she was going through a deadly combination of overthinking and overanalyzing. Knowing well how 'Wednesday' skyrocketed, she was a guaranteed nominee for Golden Globe. It appears only you saw it that way. Fully carefree while she was timidly cracking her fingers.

"It's starting, come here." She rushed you to your feet.

Taking a stand behind her slouched form, you wrapped your arms over the shoulders. Giving her excited shake, you said " You are gonna do it. I know it."

"Why are you so sure?" She asked, turning her head to give you a wondering stare.

"I called headquarters. It's all set for your win." Laughingly, you admit the lie.

"Yeah, shut up."

If anyone were to enter your apartment right now, they would do immediate 180. First thing to encounter would be two people in the middle of the room in complete darkness, except the screen.

All ears were on the presenter's voice. Time was closing in. The sacred envelope in his hands to be unwrapped will determine the rest. By how unusually still she became, it felt like hugging a lifeless body.

You closely watched the host preparing for reveal as you angled your face near her ear. Ready to match your own voice with one coming out of speaker. "And the nominees for the category of The best actress in a television series are..."

"Jean Smart"

She sighed with a trace of regret. Her hand lost the grip on you. On the contrary, you weren't discouraged.

"Our next nominee on the list is..."

Aligning your breath, like you knew from beforehand, you whispered "Jenna Ortega". Clearly matching with the presenter, Jenna wasn't sure whose voice she heard until scenes from her own roles were shown. Signifying it was truly her.

Backing up a few steps, you opened your arms and claimed "I told you!"

Jenna was peeking at you through fingers covering her face. A smile she couldn't contain was passing the barrier. It was worth it in the end.

Coming back to where you left, inviting her into an embrace with sheer care. "I'm so proud but you already know that." You refreshed her memory and linked your foreheads together. She had her eyes closed so she had no knowledge of you secretly admiring her.

A romantic moment was cut short by the sound of her phone going off. "You should answer." Hesitant to pull away but thinking of how many people are currently wishing their congrats. You gave her a nudge towards the table.

"I should?" she asked teasingly. Moving away from you, she grabbed her phone and put it on silent. Not bothered with replying. Lastly, exiting the broadcast.

With folded hands, you watched her pace around in overjoyed manner. "First, we will celebrate. Then, you know what we're gonna do?" She asked pointing a finger at you.

Shaking your head instead of saying no, as expected she provided the answer. "We are on a hunt for your red carpet looks."

Not wise enough about what to say right now so you muttered out a confused "Why?"

"You're my date for the red carpet," Jenna told nonchalantly. Making her way over to the kitchen on a mission to grab a drink.

"Oh. No. There's no way i can go Jenna." You pointed at yourself, "I'm not famous. Besides, i can be on the sideline. Cheering on like i usually do on these events."

Half of her face blocked by the fridge door, she raised her voice so you'll be able to hear. "I won't force you but just know i really, really want you to be there in front lines with me."

Slightly taken aback by her statement, it made you weigh out options. How awful could it be? You know Jenna consistently tries to keep you out of the eyes of the media. Maybe you could thank her by being there. However, it's naturally impossible to stay unknown forever. Also, it's her first time on Golden Globe. Your arrival would break the internet definitely.

"I don't know. I mean, those paparazzi, the press. You know how they are the best. They will eat me alive." Letting your worries get the best of you.

"No, no, no." Handing you a wine glass that landed with a quick kiss on the head. "Don't go there. When was it ever important what they think?" she questioned with a heartfelt tone.

Sitting down she pulled the chair closer to you. With her legs crossing she persisted, "I just think we would kill it. Imagine the headlines," as she used her hand to point out in the air, "top ten couples right now."

Rolling your eyes you pushed her backwards. Realistically saying "Mhm, and the next thing you know they break up month after."

Pouring a wine, she gave you a side eye. "Well, if you're serious about not going i'll still have to take someone with me. Emma probably."

She knew what she was doing to well.

With a click of tongue, you gave in. "What's the carpet theme?"

Stepping out of the obscure dimness and privacy of the black fancy car wasn't something you're accustomed to. Shielding your view from the sun and brightness caused by this event. It was overwhelming. Right, no idea how she deals with this regularly.

You'd much rather watch the livestream from the serenity of your home. No need for the first hand experience but it is what it is.

Grabbing Jenna by the hand so you can secretly confess before all the high-end equipment and lunatic lip readers are on you.

"I'm not made for this Jenna."

Beaming at the sight of you, she fixed accidental wrinkles of the dress. "Me neither but we'll be fine. If it gets too much we'll step aside like i promised."

The lady led you down the arranged route that was getting more frantic with each step. Cameras were piling up just like people, staff, and press did.

Jenna's name repeatedly called over was more prominent now that you're closer to the center. Here and there you could point out your own.

"Wait, hold on." Her voice was barely registered by you thanks to shutters setting off. She reached for you to let an offer out there.

"Since we talked about edits you watch nonstop, you know what we could do?"

The distracting sounds and cheers grew stronger which added to the thrill.

"You would never do that Jenna." Thinking she's brought up the plan you made while you were drunk at home just to get a kick out of you.

She did to your surprise. The brief action of drawing you in for a kiss in front of the mass suppressed everything that made you upset.

A lover's smile spread from left to right made the room spiral into madness.

"We really did it."

"I won't let them get used to this, don't worry. I got you," she pledged connecting your arms as one.

You were, without a doubt, a topic of the day.

notes: listen there was this lovely heavenly idea but did i write it out good? not really, this looked 10x better in my head but if u still read it i owe you 🖤💌

*kept writing golden globus instead of globe, i hope i fixed all of it

#jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #this is officially my downfall im retiring/hj #whoever prayed for it its working

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the-space-junker · 6 months ago

Text

Up and down: a Dandy's legacy

No matter how I look at it, I just can't be mad at Slayer for some of his past mistakes. I think his song fits perfectly into the rollercoaster ride that is this Dandy's life.

He may have his flaws and he was irresponsible, but in his mistakes, he also created and achieved so many good things. Life is wonderful, it will never be perfect, but even your mistakes can turn out good when you put some effort into correcting them and when you had good intentions.

- Nago was on his verge of dying and even though Happy Chaos took control of him, he is still thankful that to even have a chance to see so much more than he would've been able to see, to experience and to learn in a human lifetime. There were some downs, but overall everything turned into something good in the end and Nagoriyuki - though he cherishes his own independence - is still a part of Slayers found family and looks up to him.

Also - Nago is a cool character and I can't wait to find out more about him.

- Zato was merely a little street rat who had to kill to survive and death was always his companion, be it the death of others, or the hard truth that he can die at any moment. There is something so heartbreaking about the way Zato saw his life. He was lonely, he was a monster for everyone around him- as he told Millia in Night of Knives -, and he was just another worthless kid like thousands of others that roamed the ruins of fallen cities and the abandoned battlegrounds of the crusades.

He had no one and the only reason why he was alive was, because he didn't want to die. His life was miserable and hopeless and I suspect that's what made him so dull in his emotions. Zato never learned what it was like to be loved and he certainly never experienced any kind of human closure. He also never learned what a healthy relationship, love or care looks like.

And suddenly someone saw a worth in him, took him in and showed him a way of life that was much more rewarding and safer than what he had before. You can say that Slayer was his Knight in Shining Armor who ultimately also saved his life. Zato looked up to him, hell he was clinging to him so hard, he must've followed him around like a lost puppy. He soaked up everything that Slayer taught him and it aligned with what he's learned in the streets - never hesitate to do what you have to.

But Slayer is a Nightless and his understanding of humans does have a limit. He saw beauty, elegance and keen intellect in Zato, but I have a feeling that he completely ignored the emotional impact he had on him, because Vampires are built differently and also feel different. He missed the part where a human being not only needs a task, manners, rules and approval, but also love, care and emotional support. Zato is a huge baby, because he craves to be loved and praised and cared for. Slayer missed the point - or was unable to provide him with human warmth.

If you can't see any parallel to Venom...I hope now you do!

Venom is like his younger self and it really breaks me to finally understand what Slayer wanted to tell him in his winning quote:

"If the prince never showed up for snow white, would you have just settled with that?"

Slayer was Zatos prince...and Zato was Venoms! Zato must've seen himself in Venom in EVERY way as he devoted his own life to Slayer and his teachings, to the guild that became his home and the people he once vowed to care for. And Zato could not deal with it.

Venom looked up to him, the same as he did to Slayer, because he was the one person that saw a worth in him. Zato never showed him love, or care, but at least mercy and kindness. And maybe...maybe because of that, Zato was always distant and emotionally unavailable to Venom.

Slayer left him in the end, even though Zato did everything he wanted him to, and maybe even loved him in his own twisted way, because he was his mentor and some kind of a father figure. Zato hated him for leaving his guild and his responsibilities without thinking twice (or so he thought). Slayer was a leader who abandoned his own subordinates and Zato wanted to prove that he was better than him.

But with all his flaws, his trauma and his fears, he must have known that he was just a mere human and if even a Vampire has his weaknesses and imperfections, how should he be able to surpass his own mentor? He wanted to keep Venom out of his heart to count in the possibility that - in his own weak moments - he might do the same to him, or even worse. Zato was never a good person to start with; he was absolutely willing to sacrifice everything and everyone to reach his own goals - even Venom and Millia.

And he knew it. He was aware of all his sins and still kept marching on, right to his own death.

And when he returned from the Underworld, he was stripped of his ego, his pride and the emotions tied to his overboarding temper. In the past Zato tried to contain his emotions and he often failed. He told Millia that assassins can't find happiness and that their fate is only death, but questioned his own life at the same time.

Zato just surrendered to his fate and automatically assumed that everyone who walks the path of an assassin, would do the same, sooner or later. He tried to be a leader and he tried to seal his emotions away, even with the price of his own life, his sanity and his happiness. Zato was so hell bent on being the number one and an ideal for his followers, that he even threw away his humanity to truly become a monster, to prove his point.

There are so many flaws in his thinking and when he came back, he was finally able to see them, because his stupid ego was no longer in the way.

Zato tried to actively improve the lives of those he wronged, without regards to his own feelings or the effort he had to make. For the first time in his life, he acted out of selflessness to help other people and to make up for the things he did to them. Even if it is just words - like telling Faust what really happened on the day he lost his patient, or warning Ky and Gabriel about the cradle and the conclave, it is a huge step for someone like him.

He did horrible things to Millia and Venom, things he can never undo, words he can never take back and he can never give them back the time he stole them. Zato ruined the lives of many people and it must've hurt him to realize that he treated those he was supposed to love the most with such inhuman cruelty.

Venom deserved the life of a human being, where he could find his own way to happiness. And that also meant a life outside of the Organisation.

When you love someone, let him go, even if it hurts. If you didn't fuck up completely, you can still be friends.

Millia's home was always the guild, even if she hated what Zato made of it. But it was the only place she felt where she belonged and to her, freedom meant to shape the guild to a place where she can exist and find happiness. With Zato's and Daryl's deal, the guild was finally able to transform into what Zato wanted it to be, but also a place where Millia can take control of its fate. Ironically they both got what they wanted in the end.

The guild is their home and their family (I want to see how 2Cave ties into that, PLEASE Mr. Ishiwatari!!!) and neither of them wanted to leave it.

But at the same time Zato, as well as Millia, found new meanings for their freedom and their happiness. Millia was finally free to make it on her own, Zato was finally happy to carve a way for her to reach that goal (and he also carved a way for Venom to be free and happy).

He learned to let go - as seen in Millias arcade mode where Zato understands that only if he stops treating her like a baby (or his possession), he can see the real potential of her and how strong she is, if he just let her do her own thing. Millia was always a strong person, but under his control she wilted like a dying flower.

"...but given some clean water and sunlight, it will bloom into something beautiful."

I think in the end, Slayer can really be proud of his 'little princess'.

Zato finally understood what the Code of Dandyism was supposed to be and acted upon it. His life was an up and down and it will continue to be, but he will never be the same person again and even if it is hard to forgive him, you can't ignore the fact that he tries his hardest to prove that even a monster like him can do better.

#guilty gear #Slayer #Slayer GGST #assassins guilty gear #millia ra #venom #zato-1 #zato is a little princess xD #nagoriyuki #everyone needs a hug #especially Zato #just my silly thoughts #i love them so much

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alexanderlightweight · 2 years ago

Note

Could you do a continuation of the one where Cat and Ragnor summoned Alec to comfort Magnus after Camille?

here we go anon! thank you for the lovely prompt i hope you enjoy

Magnus is careful as he takes a little hair, a little blood and a little grace from the nephilim in the array and then he hesitates. He wants, more than anything, but what he’s about to do is a horrendous violation of someone who has given him so much hope. There is a little murmur of confusion as the man shifts eyes flickering open again.

“What’s wrong babe?” He’s asked and Magnus chokes on a cry because this man is coddling him, calling him endearments that must make sense from wherever he’s from and he’s barely conscious and clearly in a magical array, but his only concern is Magnus.

“I need something from you—” Magnus starts to say, something hopeless in his voice because he’s going to have to steal it, when his angel says no.

“Anything.” Magnus is promised instead. He’s being watched by fever-bright hazel eyes and hands reach out to cup his face, “everything.” Magnus is pulled into a clumsy, half-conscious kiss and he’s shocked by the taste of cold, foreign energy on his tongue and his nephilim wriggling eagerly against him, opening up his soul to bear everything Magnus needs and more.

Magnus harvests a tiny piece of his soul, just enough to make sure he can call the correct soul to him from across time and space, and then he lets the kiss end. There are tears on his face when his nephilim — no, not his not this one but one would be his — falls back to the floor in a gentle slump guided by Magnus’ magic.

“Oh laddie, it’s just as I hoped.”

Ragnor’s voice brings Magnus back to reality and he lets himself be pulled out of the array and he’s clutching the sliver of soul, unwilling to let it go.

“We need to store it, quickly.” Cat interrupts Magnus’ musing, her eyes sharp as she focuses on the small shard of silver-blue light. “We can’t risk it being damaged or lost.”

Magnus growls at the thought and weaves his magic around it, encasing it within an orb of hellfire that Cat then weaves stasis and health charms on and Ragnor adds his own lengthy list of preservation charms.

“Ragnor, can you get me a list of all nephilim bases most likely to suffer a tectonic shift in the leylines and are more prone to demonic rifts?”

“I’ll narrow it down to half a dozen of the best options.” Ragnor promises Cat, and Magnus is so grateful they’re there, that they’re taking care of him like this.

“Magnus, you’ll need to find a werewolf pack, a vampire clan or a frolick of fae. Slaughter them, harvest their hearts or their soul-gems and we’ll use those to power the array. We’ll need all of your power concentrating on finding and pulling the right one for you.”

“You’re going to help me, right?” Magnus asks, eyes sharp as he memorizes the lines of the face that has given him so much hope.

“We’re going to.” Cat says with a sharp smile that Magnus remembers fondly from their pirating days. “We’re going to get you your boy, Magnus. We’re going to get one who is going to love and devote himself to you. Whose going to die before he’d leave you, who will be immortal and stay by your side for eternity.”

“What?”

“There are endless possibilities, Magnus.” Ragnor reminds him fondly, “why limit yourself when you haven’t even let time and space limit you. There is no reason to think some version of your boy isn’t already immortal. It will save us the issue of covering up three horrifically illegal and unethical rituals in the same decade, rather than just the two.”

Magnus snorts, so hard he thinks he might cry from the burn in his eyes, but a hand pats him on the back and Cat winks at him, miming a bottle of rum and Magnus summons one, choking on a mouthful of four century old swill that still tastes like the rot of their ship.

They harvest everything they need and are just about to let the array restart, sending Magnus’ hope elsewhere when dark flames, the bitter and shifting red of Edom’s sands come to life.

They devour the array and Magnus and Ragnor and Cat step back and Magnus almost thinks about trying to save him but then they watch, in awe as the nephilim relaxes into the fire.

Alexander, my Alexander.

The fire whispers, the murmurs growing louder as a dark hum fills the room.

Ragnor grabs Magnus and shoves him behind them, putting more room between the man Magnus’ covets and whatever has come to claim him.

“Magn’s—” the man, Alexander, murmurs and he smiles, as if delighted and protected.

My darling, Alexander. I have you now.

The flames cover him and flare in a flash and when they all open their eyes, it’s to find the array never existed and every single piece of magic related to the array has been destroyed.

“The soul piece.” Magnus hisses, exhausted and feeling about to crack apart. “Did it survive?”

Ragnor looks weak and drawn and he’s pale, his skin going a mint green as he summons the orb and Magnus holds his breath, Cat’s grip tight on his arms as Ragnor sighs in relief.

“It’s intact, unharmed though a few of the protections cracked. If they,” — and Ragnor pauses because they all know who was responsible for those flames, “weren’t in such a hurry, I’m not sure it would have been usable.”

“Then,” Magnus says, and he feels stronger than he has in centuries, even though he feels shaken by the power another version of himself wielded so carelessly. “Clearly, my vacation is over. It seems I’ve let myself grow lax and that I’ll soon have something to protect just as fiercely. I’ll get ready to go to Edom.”

Cat and Ragnor both wince, but they don’t disagree. They can’t, after seeing the flames and knowing only one place where Magnus can gain such control. Magnus is going to give himself six years. Six years is long enough even as an immortal that Magnus’ soul and heart argue fiercely with waiting, but he wants to know that when he plucks his boy from across the worlds, that no one can take him back from Magnus.

Sometimes, sacrifices must be made.

#shadowhunters #magnus bane #malec #alec lightwood #writing wednesday #lumine writes #writing wednesdays #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets #shadowhunters au

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starryredpandawrites · 2 years ago

Text

Catching a Prophet

Well, thank you everyone who’s contributed to the sudden influx of Sammy art flooding my feed. You’ve infected me. I’m still a few chapters away from being able to include him in my fic, “Born from the Same Ink,” so I decided to write this little thing for his birthday (even though I’m late). It’s inspired by @reanimationstation ‘s post batdr-au (particularly this post) and an adorable sketch my sister @tiredtrashpanda made of Sammy and toon Bendy fishing together based on the drawing in Joey’s apartment (BATIM). I would link her pic here but she never posted it.

Enjoy!

Sammy Lawrence had been sitting at the edge of a rickety pier with a fishing rod in his hands for over an hour and what did he have to show for his efforts? Exactly nothing. The same result he gained from years of piety and devotion dedicated to his Lord.

He wasn’t sure what prompted him to take up one of the rods lying on the deserted pier (abandoned and alone, just like him). Now that the Ink Demon had chosen to take on such a weak and pitiful form, the self-proclaimed prophet had simply been searching for a proper place to reflect on his miserable life.

The edge of an endlessly deep pool of black water seemed to be the perfect location. However, his dark contemplation was interrupted when he noticed the first unused pole at his feet. After picking it up, he was surprised to discover it was a true fishing rod, complete with a proper reel, fishing line and hook.

Rather than casting himself into the inky abyss like he was previously considering, he decided instead to cast the hook to see if he would catch anything. Like everything he did to please his Lord, it was in vain.

Frustrated and enraged, the musician was about to throw the useless thing into the water when he heard shoes clacking down the pier.

Assuming the footsteps belonged to Henry or Allison, he kept the rod, planning on using it as an excuse to avoid whatever it was they were about to ask him to do. Was it too much to ask for his former coworkers to allow him to sulk in peace?

When the reason for his brooding came into view, he was unpleasantly surprised.

Pie-cut eyes and a formerly glorious grin smiled at him as their owner watched him expectantly.

Unwilling to dignify the fraud with a reaction, Sammy silently turned to stare at the spot where his fishing line disappeared into the inky waters, doing his best to appear completely occupied with his current activity. Usually, if he ignored the creature, it would leave of its own volition.

There was a thump to his left. Out of the side of his mask, he saw Bendy sitting beside him, swinging his feet cheerfully off the edge of the pier in a very undignified manner.

Sammy held in a groan. He was not in the mood for this.

It was odd sitting so close to the former object of his worship. Just a few days ago he would have rejoiced and reveled in this blessed opportunity. Now it was nothing but an uncomfortable reminder of his Lord’s fall and the hopelessness of his situation.

Mimicking the man at his side, the little devil picked up a fishing rod and held it over the water.

It should have been a simple matter to continue ignoring the other being fishing at his side. Except, Sammy swiftly noticed that Bendy was doing it wrong. Not only was he holding the tool upside down, but the hook wasn’t even in the water!

“That’s not how you hold it,” the musician said disdainfully, setting his useless pole to the side and instinctively reaching over to correct him.

Without any fuss other than a curious tilt of the head, the cartoon imp allowed the man to take the rod from his hands and teach him how to use it properly.

Pointing out the different parts of the object, he explained their purposes, demonstrating how to properly grip it and how to release or reel in the fishing line.

“Take care while baiting your hook,” he cautioned, pointing out the jagged object at the end of the line. “While innocent in appearance, its devious design allows it to easily embed itself in your flesh. There it will remain until it is forcefully removed, which is often more painful and damaging than the initial wound.”

Not that he cared, Sammy reminded himself. Maybe a little pain would be good for his Lord. It would be nothing compared to the pain he experienced every day he was forced to live in this accursed prison he called a body.

When the toon glanced around for something to bait his line with, the musician sighed and pulled out a can of bacon soup from his suspender pocket.

A few minutes of coaching later, Bendy made a near-perfect cast with a chunk of bacon on his hook. The bacon and hook disappeared into the water with a soft plop.

“Well done, my Lord!” he praised with a shocking amount of sincerity.

The little devil beamed at him, eyes glittering with excitement. For a brief moment, Sammy forgot the resentment he held towards the other being.

Snapping back to reality, the man distracted himself by reeling in his own rod, deciding to add some bait to his own hook. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of doing so until now. Of course he wasn’t catching anything. Maybe the simple event of being in his Lord’s presence had triggered a flash of inspiration!

When Bendy once again went to copy his actions, Sammy stopped him.

“It’s too soon to pull in the line,” the prophet explained. “Similar to how my Lord stalks his prey, this activity requires patience. You must wait until a lamb-er, a fish is attached to the line before reeling it in. You’ll know the doomed creature has fallen into your trap when-”

Bendy’s pole began to bend, flicking up and down while the toon watched in confused wonder.

“-when that happens!”

Immediately, Bendy began reeling in his catch as his companion cheered him on.

Eventually, a small, striped yellow fish burst from the ink, wriggling and fighting desperately against the fishing rod that held it captive. The muscles of its small body were no match for the hook pierced through its lip.

When the imp eagerly reached out to grab the fish, Sammy blocked the action with an arm.

“Careful, you could impale yourself on the hook. Allow me.”

Nimble fingers skillfully detached the critter from the line. He examined it closely, curious about a fish that could survive in this environment. Upon remembering a conversation he overheard between Audrey and Wilson’s ex-housekeeper, he divined the fish’s species.

“I believe this is a ‘yellow perch,’” Sammy explained, offering it to Bendy.

The toon excitedly snatched the poor thing from his grip. Clinging to his prize with both hands, he fixed it with an awestruck expression unbefitting the ruler of this realm.

Unamused, the musician wiped the fish slime on his trousers, returning his attention to his own rod.

“Now, it’s up to you to decide its fate,” Sammy explained with a disinterested wave. “You can eat it, if that is your desire. We can take it back to the kitchens and cook it there. It is rather small, so I’m not sure it would be worth it. If you are feeling merciful, you can release-”

Crunch

The unexpected sound prompted Sammy to glance at Bendy just in time to witness him swallowing whatever was in his mouth. The fish was nowhere to be seen.

The toon blinked at him with an innocent grin, then pointed at the bacon soup can by his side.

Wordless, Sammy handed over the item and watched as the little demon dug out another piece of bacon to attach to his line.

Perhaps his Lord was still in there somewhere.

*Bonus scene I’m too tired to write out properly.

They keep fishing. Bendy eats every fish he catches and Sammy either throws his catches back or gives them to the lil’ demon.

Eventually, the former musician starts whistling some tune he wrote/made-up. After a few seconds, a bunch of gilson fish float to the top of the lake/pool they’re at (probably the harbor from the first game).

They both freeze in shock. Since Sammy stopped whistling, the gilson quickly recover and swim back underwater.

Bendy loses his shit. He starts jumping up and down, then grabs Sammy by the strap of his overalls, pulls him to his level and frantically gestures at the water.

Sammy gets the hint and starts whistling again.

Sure enough, the gilson return and Bendy runs off to find something to pull in all those new tasty treats. Poor Sammy is stuck whistling until he comes back.

**Bonus bonus scene, Audrey and Henry yelling at Sammy for unintentionally drugging the little guy after he ate about 10-20 gilson (I imagine it would take a lot to knock out the Ink Demon, even in his toon form).

Thank you so much for reading! This was my first time writing Sammy, so please let me know how I did! I would love to hear your feedback, especially since his arc is coming up soon in my main fic.

#batdr #batim #sammy lawrence #bendy #the ink demon #ink demon #baby benders #pinstripe bendy #Bendy and the Ink Machine #bendy and the dark revival #batdr fanfiction #fanfiction

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visualtaehyun · 1 year ago

Text

Of knights and sunflowers

This started as mostly translation detail bits from ep. 6 but turned into a whole meta along the way when I started seeing a theme so strap in!

Disclaimer: I'm still learning Thai so feel free to correct me 🙏

The subs in part 3/4 point out that Joke is using the polite male ending particle ครับ /krub/ with Zo but it's not the first time - ever since the first scene of this episode, he's been using it on and off, clearly in an effort to sound more sweet and polite, but still in combination with the rude informal pronouns กู (guu)/มึง (mueng) that they use with each other, which makes it sound a bit funny but cute.

Now, there's kind of an important through-line in this episode, related to this, that gets a bit muddled without knowing what the article Zo read on his laptop was talking about, so here's my attempt of a translation:

" You are currently reading: 'Friend Zone' You've done so much good/done so well, why can you only be a friend?

Sometimes we might have an equation (*an exact, algebraic match as in '=', equivalency) in some things concerning a relationship but when it comes to matters of the heart and feelings, equation (*) might be more complicated than that

In the world of 'friends secretly in love with friends' being a young man who's really good/nice, being someone who keeps being right beside (you)/close-by, keeps secretly and quietly smiling to himself when the other party is happy, keeps being someone who is ready to do anything for the other party to be happy - it seems to come naturally. No matter if it's someone secretly in love with a friend in POLYCAT style (a Thai band with several songs about being in love with a friend, site in Thai), as in being a friend who will gladly be 'secretly' in love forever, or if it's in the category of lamenting that 'I'm being everything for you' but why have you never been anything to/for me like Room 39 (another Thai band, the song referenced is เป็นทุกอย่าง (Everything For You)). Deep down then, the motivation that makes young men become such good 'friends' (hurts like hell, right?) probably lies with thoughts/ideas and plain equation (*) that [...] "

I'm not 100% on this article's tone/stance. But the songs referenced and some of the way the article is worded make it sound the same way Zo describes the meaning of sunflowers to Nita this episode:

ความมั่นคง /kwaam man khong/ = subbed as steadiness; also security, stability

เฝ้ารอ /fao raw/ = subbed as patience; เฝ้า means To watch over/guard/protect/keep vigil, it's actually the word Joke uses when Pat comes to stir the pot and Joke says he's not jealous, just keeping an eye on Zo! รอ means To wait, stay, remain

ภักดี /pak dee/ = subbed as loyalty; also allegiance, devotion

อยู่เคียงข้างกันแบบนี้ตลอดไป = subbed as commitment to always be there; "stay side by side/beside each other like this forever"

The words Zo uses here are all applicable to the teeny-tiny words in the URL of that article up there: a white knight. They're all related to being chivalrous!

Throughout this episode we see Joke taking care of Zo in various ways, being attentive, respectful, patient, loyal:

But Joke is also like a sunflower the way the page Zo searches up suggests: ความมีชีวิตชีวา = energy, vitality, vivacity, liveliness ความสิ้นหวัง = hopelessness, despair

He often only focuses on Zo, like a sunflower always facing the sun, he tends to pay no attention to people around him as well as himself.

Sidenote: The fight with Kot was a prime example of this tunnel vision but that scene struck me as super odd with how personally Kot took a harmless quarrel that Joke and Zo have had countless times over trying to get Zo to taste new foods. Not that Kot knows that but still - considering how ใจเย็น /jai yen/ (lit. cool mind/heart; Calm down, Take it easy; Compose yourself) is so ingrained in Thai culture, that was quite the outburst on Kot's part, and I'm not sure if there's actually more to it than we've seen so far. I mean, Pat too just suddenly showed up next to Joke all buddy-buddy and knew exactly which buttons to press. Keepin' my eyes on these two - and Jeng too, saying he's single and giving his IG to those freshmen!

It didn't surprise me one bit that he's the jealous type because it fits right in with that image of a steadfast loyal guard.

Joke said "I'm trying to be better, for myself and for you" and I can definitely see that in the way he flip-flops between respecting Zo's boundaries and giving him space vs. clearly wanting to push and prod those boundaries, a thing he's been doing ever since the first episode but has dialed back on now that he wants to make Zo see just how much he cares about him.

I think wanting to push is honestly just in his nature but what factors into this struggle is Zo's behavior, in my opinion. Joke is watching him closely and sometimes Zo doesn't verbalize what he wants but his body language makes it clear anyways so Joke naturally follows and pushes.

Just look at Zo wordlessly letting Joke into his dorm, all he says is Joke's name, then opens the door wider for him:

Zo sitting basically in the middle of the couch, legs crossed in Joke's direction, so Joke pushes his leg up against his:

Zo moving the pillow over closer after Joke pulled his away to give Zo more space:

Zo smiling and wordlessly turning around to be spooned which Joke assesses for a moment and then reacts to:

ไม่ตอบแบบเนี้ย แปลว่าโอเคใช่ป่ะ = (You) not replying like this means (it's/you're) okay, right?

He makes sure to check in verbally and yet! Zo doesn't reply to that in words either.

Joke often second-guesses himself now so we see a lot of Joke responding to what Zo is putting down and thus pushing -> Zo suddenly looking like a deer in the headlights, always accompanied by the heartbeat sound to remind us that he's out of his depth with how fluttery-nervous he gets -> Joke reacting yet again by pulling away and repeating ค่อยๆ คิด (= Take it slow, Consider it carefully, Think it through step by step) which-- at this point I'm not sure if he's saying it to Zo or himself lol

Next week's gonna be interesting, linguistically! From the preview I already heard some Chinese-Thai specific words and Teochew/แต้จิ๋ว (the largest group of Chinese-descendant Thais, and their dialect) when Joke is talking to his grandmother (อาม่า /aa maa/ = grandma in Teochew/แต้จิ๋ว). I'm out of my depth there but if there's anything I love it's finding out more about Thai language and culture~

#hidden agenda the series #joke x zo #jokezo #joongdunk #thai bl #local woman harps on about linguistics #local woman harps on about ha

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randombook4idk · 1 year ago

Note

for ship bingo: tyrian x fiona of course, but also ironhill and ladybug!

Thank you for the ask!! This will be a ramble of me, so I'll put my opinions under "read more"

Invisible Poison (Fiona x Tyrian)💚💜

Funnily enough, despite me being the one who introduced you to this ship, I will admit that my liking for them has sort of lowered, but I do know it has to do with Fiona not being that much explored as a character, so putting her together with an ecentric character like Tyrian, with who she doesnt have any type of dynamic with, does make it a little bit hard for me to get very invested in the ship :[

But I am re-watching RWBY, so when I'll get to Vol 7, I'll see Fiona once again and my spark for the pairing could come back.

(Can we also talk about how no one seems to have writen a single fic about them? Not even a smut one? But at the same time there's 7 works of Jaune x Fiona??

Y'know, shit is getting hopeless if no one in RWBY fandom had made at least one chapter of you ship in their extremly smutty fic :/)

(I already have many wips, but screw it, they're on my priority wip lists now...I say as I haven't touched my Tyrian x Fiona wip for a whle now)

Despite my lowered love for them, I know that what drew me to this ship at first, was their Faunus identities - Fiona being a sheep Faunus & Tyrian is a scorpion Faunus.

I still dont know how to put in words, but with both being different type of Faunus, it would have been interesting to have it explored how both could've been treated because of their identities and how it impacted them. (I know this isnt much of a point towards the ship, but hush)

In general, the whole "sheep = innocent" "scorpion = dangerous" thing and have these two different people some odd Enemies to Lovers story going on between them.

Also Tyrian is the type of character who does know how to push others buttons, so I like the idea of him meeting Fiona and him noticing things about her that she may hide about herself from others. (Which would have explored Fiona's character a bit). And he just keeps pushing these buttons.

Then there's also their loyalty to their leaders - both being devoted to Robyn/Salem, but the difference is that Fiona & Robyn care about each other and have a good relationship, while Tyrian has unhealthy dynamic with Salem.

So, yay parallels...sort of.

Even if there isn't much in canon, except for Tyrian attacking Fiona, this pairing in fanon is still interesting and in a way funny if we focus on the absurd humor potential.

Like, imagine Tyrian of all people having this lovely family life with Fiona?? (I actually drew a fankid for them :D)

(For now I have named her Ophelia)

Just like in fanon, they would be fun to explore in AUs.

Them knowing each other since they were kids, but not being excatly friends? Tyrian ditching Mantle as he grows up and the elections being a place where they reunite after all these years?

I can smell the angst here, fellas.

This isn't mine AU, but an AU where Tyrian is one of the Ace Ops? What then their dynamic could've been?👀

Of course, there's the whole aesthetic of their characters, which I like.

In general, I like them and think it would be an interesting pairing to explore.

Ironhill (Ironwood x Robyn) 🤍💚

Gonna be honest, I have wanted to talk about them without worrying I might be annoying, but now that I've been asked about them, my brain suddenly is empty, not knowing what correct answer should I give😅

(I haven't watched Vol 7 for a while now, so might misremember some of the stuff)

I actually didn't expect myself to even consider this ship at all, but then this happened

Robyn, who up until this moment didn't trust Ironwood, realized that he genuinly cares and wants to protect others, that he isn't doing all of this for himself. He isn't her enemy.

(The way both at the start looked each other with distrust and dislike in their eyes, only for the way they look change as their views of the other change as well)

And it pretty much made me adore this ship. And of course, there's also their dislike of Jacques as well.

While they didn't share much moments were it as just two of them, them working together was enough for me...I say as them holding hands lives rent free in my hand (👏THEY👏HELD👏HANDS👏YOUR👏HONOR👏)

Of course, them trusting each other isn't the only thing about them.

I really suck at putting my thoughts into words, but while Ironwood does care for both Mantle and Atlas, he still is mostly at Atlas, while Robyn is potrayed to represent Mantle, so like them working together not only to rebuild the hole in the wall in Mantle, but also uniting Atlas and Mantle. And with both of them becoming allies, they wouldn't fall for the bad guys attempts at making them distrust each other. And when the evil is deafeated they would continue working together. (but Vol 8 decided to ruin this idea-)

(As a divorced Ironwatts believer, I also think it would be funny if like Watts saw them on the tv, holding hands and just was a very bitter ex about it.

"Oh, wow. Someone moved on pretty quickly if you ask me🙄😒" he says as it hasn't been 10 years already + the world believes he's dead)

Then there's this small things, like of both having shooting type weapons (and them shooting at Tyrian/Watts is a parallel in my eyes-) and they way they adress one another - "General" & "Miss Hill". There's just something about characters calling the other by anything but their names🤌

Obviously, my mind had to once more imagine a scenario where they protect each other with their weapons and slowly start adressing the other with their first names.

I also once came across a reddit post which talked about how Robyn also seemed to be paraniod and it made me think back to her Semblance and with how Semblances are based on the user, I made a hc that maybe Robyn either had her trust shattered mutliple times in her childhood, making her only to know the truth so she wouldn't get hurt anymore or that behind her confident personality Robyn is nervous/anxious person, which is what resulted into the creaton of her Semblance.

And in a way Ironwood could understand how it feels like you can't always be sure of things or feeling like things will fall apart no matter what and they could develop a bond from it. (which then would make Ironwood's villain arc heartbreaking for Robyn, because to her, he was one of the few who truly understood her struggles)

I know they didn't have much of a dynamic, but I like to imagine them having this teasing going on (with Robyn being the main one to tease Ironwood) Just two of them enjoying each ones company. I'm aware it's mostly fanon, but it's just a fun thing for me.

While I enjoyed this ship, I had been spoiled about Ironwood becoming a villain before, so it kind of sucked seeing the potential of his & Robyn's dynamic and knowing it will not get a chance to get explored. And let me tell you, wasn't big fan of Ironwood's villain arc. Also I started disliking Roby as the Volumes progressed :/

But hey, that's what fanfiction is for right? There's probably something on ao3-Aaaaaaand it's smut. Great, I'm in hell :)

(just watch me, one day I'll post my Ironhill fic)

Ladybug (Blake x Ruby)🖤❤️

When I started watching RWBY for the first time, they did not catch my eye at all, but then I picked up the show again and BAM Ladybug strucks my heart.

From their conversation in Vol 1, I was quickly sold to this pair. I just like this contrast between them - Ruby the younger, optimistic leader with a dream that can be seen childish and Blake being the more realistic, but outspoken teammate with a huge goal in mind.

Even if they didn't get much screen time together, there still were those small things that made like Ladybug even more - Ruby being the main one who openly worries about Blake after her argument with Weiss or when Blake refused to go to the dance, Ruby being the one to find Blake isn't in her bed and wanting to find her, Ruby straight up not seeing a point to go to the dance if Blake wasn't coming, Ruby being the first one to bring up Blake after she, Weiss and Yang had reunited and being the one who speak with Blake when the reunite with her at the end of Volume 5.

While this all is from Ruby's side, I will add that in Volume 5, Ruby was the first name Blake said whenever she brought up her team to Sun, so a win for shippers/j

Then there's Volume 6 with it's Apathy Arc and let me tell you, when I first watched it, my shippers heart was screaming in joy when Ruby reached out to Blake and activated her Silver Eyes.

Of course there's also Volume 7/8 (?) (i don't remember tbh) with it having Blake's whole speech about how Ruby inspired her, but because I feel like hers and Ruby's relationship didn't get explored in the story, the speech sort of also felt flat, because why not show the progress of how Blake views Ruby.

Their lack of screen time will always annoy me, but this criticism isn't aimed only at Ladybug, but at Team RWBY in general.

So, yeah, wish we had more of them and their reunion in Volume 9 should have been more emotional, but no, only Blake's and Yang's reunion can be emotional, I mean it's not like Blake and Ruby fell down together, with Blake having went after Ruby to save her-OH WAIT.

Anyway, I shall hc that Ruby has a crush on Blake and she's finds herself feeling a bit jealous of Yang.

But yeah, their whole aesthetic/color schemes are very nice.

#rwby #fiona x tyrian #tyrian x fiona #invisible poison #rwby invisible poison #invisible poison rwby #ironwood x robyn #robyn x ironwood #ironhill #rwby ironhill #ironhill rwby #ruby x blake #blake x ruby #ladybug #rwby ladybug #ladybug rwby

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saintgoths · 2 years ago

Text

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜰᴏᴜʀ

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - NOT ALLOWED.

WORDS - 2,403.

RATING - 18+. [miscommunication, sexual assault, alcohol and drug consumption].

SUMMARY - stubborn to her beliefs ivy walks into a situation she doesnt understand thus sauntering into a scenario she wished she hadn’t.

if you want to join a the last of us discord/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

this chapter is really going to be heavy! but the act is not going to be written but implied! i'll put a warning before it happens. the warning [***]

15th of JUNE 2017

Married, were Isabella and Kai, the Oraphim were deliberate and austere about people in their community to be espoused to another, the two had no problem being with each other, throughout the years in the society, the two people had no troubles growing closer to one another, loving each other, mentally and physically; they were enamoured and lovesick.

Kai was devoted to the Oraphim religion and Isabella had always been distrustful and cagey about it, she had ben unsure the moment Kai had informed her about the religion before they arrived in the Oraphim community. Typically, Isabella would keep her thoughts to herself, but the bothered look she wore currently was too clear for it to be unnoticed by her husband, he had paused what he had been doing and neared his presence towards Isabella’s uncomfortable physique. She was slightly hunched and her face was pouted, Kai had observed that his wife would usually do that whenever she overthought about a topic she abhorred.

“What’s wrong?” Kai inquisitively questioned, his warm form gingerly comforted the young woman who avoided to answer his inquiry, she had said nothing but softly moved away from him, her avoidant nature caused him to pull her smaller body into his balmy figure, kindly embraced her as he pleaded his lover to express what she had been holding in.

Isabella eluded his stare, nervous to what she had to say. “You won’t like it.”

“I will be fine with whatever you say, Bella.”

Shortly, Isabella clenched her jaw fore she turned to look into his eyes, serious and solemn about her thoughts. “Do you genuinely believe in the Oraphim religion?”

“Yes,” he briskly replied, deliberate and grave about his belief, but with the deadpan expression Isabella had on her face, entailed that she was unmoved but bothered. “They’re a good religion and they teach people to be good,” he desperately contested just as Isabella shrugged his arms off her.

“What about the missing people?” She asked, “the missing people who were just as devoted to you in the Oraphim religion, where are they?”

Frustrated, Kai had licked the bottom of his lips, she was correct, there were numerous of people who were more devoted and faithful to the Oraphim religion than Kai ever would be, they had vanished, no traces of them left but memories.

“The missing people are probably working with the Ophanim,” Kai impugned gingerly defeated with her challenge.

Isabella scoffed at him in disbelief of his devoted delusion; the Ophanim is main leader of the Oraphim society, he founded and built the community with his disciples as he preached his word during the process of the plot being created. Throughout time, people have become faithful and dependent on him, wanted to work by him so they could be accepted by God. The Ophanim was seen as the last apostle of Christ and the only way to communicate with the Ophanim was to send him letters.

“Without the approval of the Ophanim we wouldn’t have been able to receive a spot,” Kai truthfully informed, in hopeless anticipation to win the dispute. “I’m grateful that you’re worrying about me, but I’m okay, you’re safe here, we’re safe here.”

Smoothly, Isabella let down her shoulders, drained in relations of the bothersome bicker she shared with her husband. She had remained silent, quietly still thought strong of her side of the dispute but with Kai’s delusional faith there would be a lack of progress to win.

Weary, Kai pressed his lips delicately against her forehead before he placed them against her lips ere he resumed his previous task.

Cemented and grounded in a reverie, eyes tightly shut but had been fought with them to ajar, Venus repeatedly urged herself to wake from the trance, her plead deep and tall but when she conclusively woke up, she briskly observed that she had pointed one of her mother’s acute and pointed kitchen knives before her face. Surprised, Venus hastily put the knife away and hurried up to the second floor.

Deep into her thoughts, she hadn’t remarked that Scarlett was in front of her and unwittingly bumped into the blond girl, stunned by the collision, Venus looked up and bored into her coloured eyes just as Scarlett beamed into Venus’ brown orbs, “what are you doing up?” Scarlett curiously inquired.

Venus softly took a step back, “what are you doing up?” She asked back.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I felt as if something was off so I went to check up on you.”

“I was just getting some water,” Venus plainly lied and Scarlett beckoned her head, acceptant to her reply.

“Well, you should go back to bed,” Scarlett kindly instructed but caught the quick frown that appeared on the younger girl’s face.

Scarlett gently raised her eyebrows, quietly gestured Venus to tell her what’s going on. Venus and Scarlett were comfortable around each other, the other family members were actually surprised when they observed that Venus grew close with the blond girl, knowing how aloof and anti-social Venus could be, they believed it would have taken months for the two to grow close.

“I can’t sleep,” Venus lightly mumbled, she had unintentionally played with her fingers, her face read a tiny insecure, Scarlett revealed a small smile.

She knew how shy Venus could get when it came to sharing her problems, “you can sleep next to me for the night,” Scarlett kindly suggested moreover, Venus was quick to agree to the implication and trailed behind Scarlett into her room.

Joel gently paraded into Three Sisters, his fad mission to search for his partner, hastily noticed that Isabella was not out of the kitchen, he quickly commanded for one of the staffs to escort her out of the cuisine and patiently waited for her arrival.

Isabella was quick to walk out of her workspace, content to see Joel but curious to why he asked for her presence. The two had kissed once they were in each other’s energies, Isabella first to pull away, suspicious to why he had called for her, “is there anything you need? If you hadn’t noticed, I’m busy in the kitchen.”

“I just wanted to see you,” he replied, his simple answer had caused Isabella to pull a face, Joel laughed at her comeback, his large hand grabbed her left arm to bring her closer to him, “Esther told me about the interaction you two shared the other day,” caught red-handed, Isabella scrunched her face at what he had brought up, which had caused Joel to chuckled even more, “don’t worry I found it cute when she told me.”

“I was surprised when I found out that Esther was your ex,” she candidly told him, the looks behind her eyes full with comical judgement.

Joel arched both of his eyebrows, nosy and impertinent about her fanciful behaviour. “Was I supposed to tell you?”

“No, I was just surprised on how recent the break up was,” she replied while Venus and Scarlett sauntered into the diner both clothed in the new attire Ivy had made for them, the garments layered and warm enough to prepare and thaw the girls in this icy weather. “Where’s Robin?” The matriarch asked and the two girls glanced at each other before they returned their stare towards the older woman and bounced their shoulders.

“He’s waiting for me,” Joel nonchalantly replied to only receive a nudge from his lover.

“Now, how about you go to Robin,” she strictly ordered her eyes ludicrously sharp.

“Yes ma’am,” he briskly followed in the act of walking out of Three Sisters and departed the girls alone, Isabella comically clicked her tongue just as she returned to the young ladies to ask them what they wanted to eat, moreover, after they had happily versed the older woman what they wanted to eat, she had smoothly rebounded to the kitchen to prepare their fare.

The instant Isabella had completed to cook their meals, she had returned to the girls and provided them with the food, they had thanked the Rosalind matriarch fore they dug into their fare, proud of her accomplishment, Isabella had remained close to Venus and Scarlett, Scarlett had rose her head towards Isabella, curious in relations to her romantic bond with Joel.

“When did you and Joel meet?” Scarlett curiously questioned, her light eyes glistened with inquiry, intrigued about the popular couple.

“We met during the week we moved in, I noticed him first and he was really grumpy,” Isabella verily replied genuinely nostalgic about their first encounter.

“Yeah, mum had a huge crush on him, it was so funny,” Venus inanely teased, her eyes comically fiendish and Isabella sent her a look, hands on her hips just as a matron listed into the diner.

The three ladies hadn’t paid the woman any attention just before she called out to Scarlett, the young girl had curved her vision towards the woman, eyes marginally wide while she remarked who the matron was. “That’s my mother, Ophelia.”

Promptly, Isabella walked around to instantly protect Scarlett, forthwith with her anger, Ophelia rapidly darted her eyes towards Isabella, in attempt to intimidate the woman she highlighted her height, her figure stalked over Isabella yet the Rosalind woman hadn’t backed down, eyes cruelly glared at the blond woman before her.

“You’re the one who took Scarlett?”

“You can say that,” Isabella briskly retorted, her tone sharp, showing no sign of cowing and coercion.

Ophelia lightly moved her sight to Scarlett, who sat on the diner chair with remorse that she had put Isabella in this demoralising position.

“Give her back to me.”

Isabella rudely, furrowed her eyebrow, “no.”

The diner, silent, all attention given towards the circumstance, everyone acute and keen to what Ophelia would do next, furthermore, Scarlett had remarked the motion Ophelia would make ere she would strike someone, thus, she had quickly confronted her mother, forcibly separated Isabella and Ophelia, damned and liable, she had looked up towards Isabella, damned, “I’ll go.”

Confused, Isabella furrowed her eyebrows, ready to deny Scarlett’s request. “Why would you want to go back?” She rapidly questioned, stunned towards Scarlett’s choice.

“I’ll be fine,” Scarlett softly whispered, her eyes laced with anguish and affliction, but her motives genuine. Scarlett had turned her view to Venus who hunkered on her seat, her expression hard to read but internally she felt, not disappointed, but unfortunate.

Ivy had just rebounded from a successful group patrol she had shared with her main patrol partner Rowan Sparke, the additional individuals who joined the group patrol were not all a part of her age group, some of them were older around their late twenties or early thirties; the Rosalind girl had been praised for her bravery and credentials, along with Rowan’s usual teasing behaviour.

The moment she had finished cleaning and preparing herself she had tasked herself to go to Ellie’s cabin, Ellie was a private person, always kept her door cinched, yet there was always a first for everything, Ivy had opened Ellie’s unbolted door, met with the comforted state and stance both Ellie and Dina had themselves in.

Nimbly noticed the shocked and dismayed expression penned all over Ivy’s face, her stunned façade now replaced with realisation then disappointment. “Ivy, I promise it’s not what it looks like!” Ellie urgently conveyed, verily stunned at the timing the Rosalind girl had arrived.

“You don’t need to explain anything,” Ivy rudely muttered just as she exited the cabin and closed the door behind her, her mind clouded and screened, using her nebulous thoughts to walk herself to her main patrol-partner Rowan’s home.

Her knocking seemed urgent enough for Rowan to rush downstairs, ere he heard his mother yell for him to open the door. Surprised to detect Ivy in front of him was enough to briskly pull Ivy into his large cabin he shared with his mother, his matriarch walked past and did spare time to greet Ivy who stood there, in hopes to lose sight of what had just happened.

The small conversation between the trio was short, Rowan’s mother was quick to leave the two youngsters alone, she had returned to the kitchen while Ivy’s body curved to Rowan, her arms wrapped around her body, face insecure, Ivy was already a laid-back person, but she seemed more quiet than usual.

“You were right,” Ivy whispered during the moment they had moved to his bedroom, Ivy had explained everything she had saw when she walked into Ellie’s cabin, and severely regretted taking any part of that friendship group, Rowan was quick to put down his comical nature and was brisk to reassure her.

They had both sat on his bed, in comfortable silence, to calm her down, Rowan had offered her alcohol and weed in which she had blatantly agreed to, she would’ve rather been under the influence than be swallowed by the awkward and severe emotions of heartbreak.

The two had still spoke, joked with each other and shared stimulants and pills to develop into a happier state, their comments slurred and their laughs libel.

“You had everyone’s attention,” Rowan joked, nostalgic, “you were like a breath of fresh air, more like perfumed fresh air, you smelt really good.”

***Ivy giggled, rested against his shoulder, silently and hopelessly requested that she had the ability to turn back time to just only befriend Rowan. She had barely looked up more-over, Rowan had hastily pushed his mouth against hers, shocked, Ivy froze just as he continued to caress her, but the moment she had the strength to pull herself back from him, she had stared at Rowan, thrown aback.

“Rowan, I only see you as a friend,” Ivy shakily breathed, her eyes wet, startled, but Rowan had grabbed her wrists, his train of thoughts in denial of Ivy’s comment.

“But you came to me when you found out Ellie had cheated on you with Dina.”

“I came to you because you’re my friend!”

Anxious, she had attempted to pull herself from Rowan, though, the pills and booze too capable for the Rosalind woman to fight him off, and she could feel her body flop under his touch, “you want this,” Rowan compelled, his tone unwrinkled and steady, Ivy’s lips pouted, unwittingly allowed the Sparke male to use her body, silent, she had held back her utterance in hopes that he would soon finish.

masterlist

♆

#magneticsiren #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us oc #the last of us game #the last of us #tlou #tloutwo #tlou2 #tlouii #joel miller #ellie williams #joel miller fanfiction #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x oc #joel miller x oc

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yhwhrulz · 7 months ago

Text

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional for April 19

Tozer in the Morning God's Word Gives Light

"I'm sorry. . . . I'm a stranger here myself." That is the only honest answer. Others are sometimes given, but they are never valid answers. They spring out of pride or error or uncritical and wishful thinking, and they are not to be trusted. It is no good asking for information of another who is as ignorant as ourselves. We are all strangers in a strange world. Is our state hopeless then? Is no answer to be had? Must we live in a world we do not understand and go out into a future of dark uncertainty? No, thank God, things are not as bad as that. There is an answer. We can find light. Our questions have been answered. "From a child," wrote Paul to Timothy, "thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness." It is the universal t estimony of the saints of the ages that when the light of the Scriptures enters, the darkness of spiritual ignorance vanishes. God's Word giveth light. It has answer for every qestion that matters. The merely curious question it ignores, but every real inquiry made by the sincere heart is met with full light. It is important that we search the Scriptures daily, and more important still that we approach them with faith and humility, bowing our hearts to their instructions and commands. Then through faith in Christ we cease to be strangers and become sons of God.

Tozer in the Evening In the Pursuit of God - Apprehending God

O taste and see.

Psalms 34:8

It was Canon Holmes, of India, who more than twenty-five years ago called attention to the inferential character of the average man's faith in God. To most people God is an inference, not a reality. He is a deduction from evidence which they consider adequate; but He remains personally unknown to the individual. He must be,' they say,therefore we believe He is.' Others do not go even so far as this; they know of Him only by hearsay. They have never bothered to think the matter out for themselves, but have heard about Him from others, and have put belief in Him into the back of their minds along with the various odds and ends that make up their total creed. To many others God is but an ideal, another name for goodness, or beauty, or truth; or He is law, or life, or the creative impulse back of the phenomena of existence. These notions about God are many and varied, but they who hold them have one thing in common: they do not know God in personal experience. The possibil ity of intimate acquaintance with Him has not entered their minds. While admitting His existence they do not think of Him as knowable in the sense that we know things or people.

Christians, to be sure, go further than this, at least in theory. Their creed requires them to believe in the personality of God, and they have been taught to pray, `Our Father, which art in heaven.' Now personality and fatherhood carry with them the idea of the possibility of personal acquaintance. This is admitted, I say, in theory, but for millions of Christians, nevertheless, God is no more real than He is to the non-Christian. They go through life trying to love an ideal and be loyal to a mere principle.

Over against all this cloudy vagueness stands the clear scriptural doctrine that God can be known in personal experience. A loving Personality dominates the Bible, walking among the trees of the garden and breathing fragrance over every scene. Always a living Person is present, speaking, pleading, loving, working, and manifesting Himself whenever and wherever His people have the receptivity necessary to receive the manifestation.

The Bible assumes as a self-evident fact that men can know God with at least the same degree of immediacy as they know any other person or thing that comes within the field of their experience. The same terms are used to express the knowledge of God as are used to express knowledge of physical things. O taste and see that the Lord is good.' (Psalms 34:8)All thy garments smellof myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory palaces.' (Psalms 45:8) My sheep hear my voice.' (John 10:27)Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' (Matthew 5:8) These are but four of countless such passages from the Word of God. And more important than any proof text is the fact that the whole import of the Scripture is toward this belief.

What can all this mean except that we have in our hearts organs by means of which we can know God as certainly as we know material things through our familiar five senses? We apprehend the physical world by exercising the faculties given us for the purpose, and we possess spiritual faculties by means of which we can know God and the spiritual world if we will obey the Spirit's urge and begin to use them. That a saving work must first be done in the heart is taken for granted here. The spiritual faculties of the unregenerate man lie asleep in his nature, unused and for every purpose dead; that is the stroke which has fallen upon us by sin. They may be quickened to active life again by the operation of the Holy Spirit in regeneration; that is one of the immeasurable benefits which come to us through Christ's atoning work on the cross.

But the very ransomed children of God themselves: why do they know so little of that habitual conscious communion with God which the Scriptures seem to offer? The answer is our chronic unbelief. Faith enables our spiritual sense to function. Where faith is defective the result will be inward insensibility and numbness toward spiritual things. This is the condition of vast numbers of Christians today. No proof is necessary to support that statement. We have but to converse with the first Christian we meet or enter the first church we find open to acquire all the proof we need.

A spiritual kingdom lies all about us, enclosing us, embracing us, altogether within reach of our inner selves, waiting for us to recognize it. God Himself is here waiting our response to His Presence. This eternal world will come alive to us the moment we begin to reckon upon its reality.

I have just now used two words which demand definition; or if definition is impossible, I must at least make clear what I mean when I use them. They are reckon' andreality.' What do I mean by reality? I mean that which has existence apart from any idea any mind may have of it, and which would exist if there were no mine anywhere to entertain a thought of it. That which is real has being in itself. It does not depend upon the observer for its validity.

I am aware that there are those who love to poke fun at the plain man's idea of reality. They are the idealists who spin endless proofs that nothing is real outside of the mind. They are the relativists who like to show that there are no fixed points in the universe from which we can measure anything. They smile down upon us from their lofty intellectual peaks and settle us to their own satisfaction by fastening upon us the reproachful term `absolutist.' The Christian is not put out of countenance by this show of contempt. He can smile right back at them, for he knows that there is only One who is Absolute, that is God. But he knows also that the Absolute One has made this world for man's uses, and, while there is nothing fixed or real in the last meaning of the words (the meaning as applied to God) for every purpose of human life we are permitted to act as if there were. And every man does act thus except the mentally sick. These unfortunates also have trouble with reali ty, but they are consistent; they insist upon living in accordance with their ideas of things. They are honest, and it is their very honesty that constitutes them a social problem.

The idealists and relativists are not mentally sick. They prove their soundness by living their lives according to the very notions of reality which they in theory repudiate and by counting upon the very fixed points which they prove are not there. They could earn a lot more respect for their notions if they were willing to live by them; but this they are careful not to do. Their ideas are brain-deep, not life- deep. Wherever life touches them they repudiate their theories and live like other men.

The Christian is too sincere to play with ideas for their own sake. He takes no pleasure in the mere spinning of gossamer webs for display. All his beliefs are practical. They are geared into his life. By them he lives or dies, stands or falls for this world and for all time to come. From the insincere man he turns away.

The sincere plain man knows that the world is real. He finds it here when he wakes to consciousness, and he knows that he did not think it into being. It was here waiting for him when he came, and he knows that when he prepares to leave this earthly scene it will be here still to bid him good-bye as he departs. By the deep wisdom of life he is wiser than a thousand men who doubt. He stands upon the earth and feels the wind and rain in his face and he knows that they are real. He sees the sun by day and the stars by night.

He sees the hot lightning play out of the dark thundercloud. He hears the sounds of nature and the cries of human joy and pain. These he knows are real. He lies down on the cool earth at night and has no fear that it will prove illusory or fail him while he sleeps. In the morning the firm ground will be under him, the blue sky above him and the rocks and trees around him as when he closed his eyes the night before. So he lives and rejoices in a world of reality. With his five senses he engages this real world. All things necessary to his physical existence he apprehends by the faculties with which he has been equipped by the God who created him and placed him in such a world as this.

Now by our definition also God is real. He is real in the absolute and final sense that nothing else is. All other reality is contingent upon His. The great Reality is God who is the Author of that lower and dependent reality which makes up the sum of created things, including ourselves. God has objective existence independent of and apart from any notions which we may have concerning Him.The worshipping heart does not create its Object. It finds Him here when it wakes from its moral slumber in the morning of its regeneration.

Another word that must be cleared up is the word reckon. This does not mean to visualize or imagine. Imagination is not faith. The two are not only different from, but stand in sharp opposition to, each other. Imagination projects unreal images out of the mind and seeks to attach reality to them. Faith creates nothing; it simply reckons upon that which is already there. God and the spiritual world are real. We can reckon upon them with as much assurance as we reckon upon the familiar world around us. Spiritual things are there (or rather we should say here) inviting our attention and challenging our trust.

Our trouble is that we have established bad thought habits. We habitually think of the visible world as real and doubt the reality of any other. We do not deny the existence of the spiritual world but we doubt that it is real in the accepted meaning of the word. The world of sense intrudes upon our attention day and night for the whole of our lifetime. It is clamorous, insistent and self- demonstrating. It does not appeal to our faith; it is here, assaulting our five senses, demanding to be accepted as real and final. But sin has so clouded the lenses of our hearts that we cannot see that other reality, the City of God, shining around us. The world of sense triumphs. The visible becomes the enemy of the invisible; the temporal, of the eternal. That is the curse inherited by every member of Adam's tragic race.

At the root of the Christian life lies belief in the invisible. The object of the Christian's faith is unseen reality. Our uncorrected thinking, influenced by the blindness of our natural hearts and the intrusive ubiquity of visible things, tends to draw a contrast between the spiritual and the real; but actually no such contrast exists. The antithesis lies elsewhere: between the real and the imaginary, between the spiritual and the material, between the temporal and the eternal; but between the spiritual and the real.

The spiritual is real. If we would rise into that region of light and power plainly beckoning us through the Scriptures of truth we must break the evil habit of ignoring the spiritual. We must shift our interest from the seen to the unseen. For the great unseen Reality is God. He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.' (Hebr 11:6) This is basic in the life of faith. From there we can rise to unlimited heights.Ye believe in God,' said our Lord Jesus Christ, `believe also in me.' (John 14:1) Without the first there can be no second.

If we truly want to follow God we must seek to be other-worldly. This I say knowing well that that word has been used with scorn by the sons of this world and applied to the Christian as a badge of reproach. So be it. Everyman must choose his world. If we who follow Christ, with all the facts before us and knowing what we are about, deliberately choose the Kingdom of God as our sphere of interest I see no reason why anyone should object. If we lose by it, the loss is our own; if we gain we rob no one by so doing.

The other world,' which is the object of this world's disdain and the subject of the drunkard's mocking song, is our carefully chosen goal and the object of our holiest longing. But we must avoid the common fault of pushing theother world' into the future. It is not future, but present. It parallels our familiar physical world, and the doors between the two worlds are open. Ye are come,' says the writer to the Hebrews (and the tense is plainly present),unto Mount Zion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn, which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel' (Hebr 12:22-24) All these things are contrasted with the mount that might be touched' andthe sound of a trumpet and the voice of words' that might be heard. May we not safely conclude that, as the realities of Mount Sinai were apprehended by the senses, so the realities of Mount Zion are to be grasped by the soul? And this not by any trick of the imagination, but in downright actuality. The soul has eyes with which to see and ears with which to hear. Feeble they may be from long disuse, but by the life-giving touch of Christ alive now and capable of sharpest sight and most sensitive hearing.

As we begin to focus upon God the things of the spirit will take shape before our inner eyes. Obedience to the word of Christ will bring an inward revelation of the Godhead (John 14:21-23). It will give acute perception enabling us to see God even as is promised to the pure in heart. A new God-consciousness will seize upon us and we shall begin to taste and hear and inwardly feel the God who is our life and our all. There will be seen the constant shining of the light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world. (John 1:9) More and more, as our faculties grow sharper and more sure, God will become to us the great All, and His Presence the glory and wonder of our lives. O God, quicken to life every power within me, that I may lay hold on eternal things. Open my eyes that I may see; give me acute spiritual perception; enable me to taste Thee and know that Thou art good. Make heaven more real to me than any earthly thing has ever been. Amen.

0 notes

spencerrxids · 2 years ago

Text

heart attack

pairing : nanami kento x fem!reader

genre : tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort a bit?

warning : none

summary : chasing nanami kento’s love is a full time job and nothing can stop her from fulfulling her dream

wordcount : 6.1k

a/n : sorry it took too long for me to post this. but here it is. hope you enjoy it

masterlist

Chasing Nanami Kento’s love is like a full-time job for her. Being a shaman was merely just a side quest she did. Call her a hopeless romantic, but even that couldn’t fully describe who she is. Double the meaning of it or triple it then perhaps that could describe her. A very much hopeless hopeless hopeless romantic when it comes to Nanami Kento.

And everyone knows this. Everyone knows how she feels for him, even he knows about it for it is not a secret that she tried to hide. She has always been the one to verbally show it since the first day they met. That first day where she found herself that she didn't even know before. “Your last name sounds good together with my first.” How much she cringed when she looked back at those first moments after he introduced himself to the class that only consisted of three of them. Being blunt often helps her to get away from awkward situations that ironically were also created from her bluntness.

“You won’t get anywhere like this,” said her white-haired senior, sneaking up behind her who was watching Nanami from behind a pillar. The sudden appearance of the famous senior who she also calls as friend startled her. The letter in her hands fell to the ground as she turned around to look at him. “What are you doing here?!” She whispered loudly.

She crouched down to grab the letter she had dropped, careful to not step onto them. “You were being a creep. You know you could always approach him, it’s not like he doesn’t know about this.” Gojo leaned onto the pillar, also now watching Nanami as the girl beside him stood tall again.

“Don’t lecture me on being a creep when you are the worst one here,” Hearing her words Gojo put his hand on his chest acting as if a bullet hit him. “And you are not a love guru. You’ll be the last person that I would go to for love advice, Senpai.”

He only hummed as a response, she couldn’t tell if that was a sign of agreement or disagreement. But the two stayed in their place for the next few minutes, her hand still gripping the letter tightly, not wanting to let go of all the feelings she had poured into it. Gojo glanced at it, crossing his arm, a serious look on his face. “How many have you......?”

She switches and leans onto her left leg instead of her right, fingers fiddling with one another—one of her nervous habits. “This is the thirty or forty-something,” she paused for a moment. “I don’t remember how it started but I don’t think I’m going to stop anytime soon. Whether he read it or not, this has become a coping mechanism for me. Every time I-we come back from a mission,” She paused after correcting her words. “I’ll write one of these, and sometimes I give him one if it contains something about him.” She raised the letter in her hand. Sometimes it means all the time.

“Call it a love letter or whatever you want. I suppose calling it that wouldn’t make it untrue for it is filled by the words that come right out of my heart.”

***

She had seated herself on the floor not long after Gojo had left her alone there. Her gaze traveled around until they landed onto the sky, a soft smile appeared on her face as she did so. Leaning her head on the pillar, she lets herself relieve the tension that she was holding since the latest mission the school had sent her team to. Million possibilities run in her mind, the risks they always took without a single hesitation, devoting their life in the line to protect the world. Her gaze falls back onto the letter she holds as she silently wonders how she let herself feel this much for someone. Raising it to her chest, she allows herself to close her eyes, getting a little bit of rest that she truly needed.

“How long have you been there?” A voice asked. His voice. The one that brings a warm feeling to her heart despite the cold weather in the evening.

Slowly opens her eyes, blinking to adjust the brightness in her vision before her gaze falls onto Nanami who stood over her, a letter in his right hand. Then she looked at her hand to find it no longer holding the letter close to her chest. It must have slipped away during the few moments when she fell asleep. A smile comes up on her face as she stares back at him. “Long enough.” She answered simply. “Are you going to your room?”

He nodded his head slightly while offering his hand to her which she gladly accepted, standing back on her feet, and brushing the dust off her clothes. She could feel his eyes watching her movements so she tried her best to pretend that she did not notice it. She is aware that their hands are still interconnected with one another, both didn’t make any move to let go. “Did you open it?” She asked again, motioning at the letter that was already on his other hand that was not holding hers.

“Not yet. You are supposed to rest for your mission tomorrow and yet here you are.” He commented.

A sheepish smile appeared on her face as she avoided his stern gaze on her. “But that’s exactly the reason why I’m here right now, Ken-to,” She looks away, her hand finally letting go of his, not noticing that his fingers slightly reached out at the loss of the warmth of her hand. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to meet you in the early morning tomorrow so I have to give it to you now. You know, like usual, just in case.” She trailed off at the end of her words, seeming to be in a deep thought.

The two resumed the walk to their representative room. Her words earlier had been replied with nothing but the silence between the two. A somber mood constantly clouded Nanami’s mind, seeing her always acting like she was never going to come back after a solo mission. Not coming back to him.

“We should always prepare for the worst. You’ll never know what will happen.” That was what she always said to them all. But even then, the evident smile on her face would always betray the anxiety in her heart.

A hand landed itself on his forearm, waking him up from his drowning thoughts, and stopping him from walking a bit farther. He turned to look at her but her gaze was stuck on the sky. He found himself staring at the side of her face. At her eyes that glistened with the moon's reflection in it.

“Kento,” She called his name softly, still not looking at him. She opened her mouth a little bit and yet none of the words fell out of it, heart thumping against her chest out of rhythm. “The moon......” She trailed off as she turned to look at him. The sight of him makes her knees weak. Makes her unable to speak the words that she wanted to. So instead she speaks with the eyes that always show the truth when she is around him.

“Is beautiful.” He said. Continuing the silent part of her words. “The moon is beautiful.” Her eyes widened at the words that fell out of his mouth. Did he mean it literally or not? The question rang inside her mind. It’s always hard to decipher Nanami’s mind when he always spoke things in quite an expressionless way. There seems to be a big wall that separates his expression and the feelings that remained true inside his heart.

Nothing happened between the two after he uttered those words. They began to resume the walk that they both had paused quite hastily. Her hand hovered above the room handle as both are now standing in front of hers. She could feel the looming presence of him with her back turned against him at the moment. With shadow casting over her face, she turned to look at him.

“You know, Kento.” She bit the inner of her cheek, looking up at him with a small smile plastered on her face. Her hands connected themselves behind her as she rocked slowly on her feet. “You really shouldn’t say things when you don’t really mean the words. People can get confused.” She said the words carefully, glancing at the letter that is still wrapped around his fingers before staring back at him.

Then she waited.

Waited for him to say something,

Anything. Anything would be enough of an answer.

She looked at him expectedly, raising her eyebrows. But all she got was a typical Nanami Kento avoiding conversation type of answer. Instead of clarifying his words, he just told her to go rest quickly so she won’t be too late the next day. Her shoulders sank at his words, puffing her cheeks before turning around, opening the door, and then closing it.

Sitting at the edge of her bed, she looks at Nanami’s shadow that could be seen from the gap between her door and the floor. She leaned her head on top of the plushie on her lap. Nanami stood in front of her door for the next few minutes before he finally walked away from it.

“Kento, you’re an idiot.” Then she averted her gaze to the crumpled paper beside the trash bin. Getting up from her seat, she crouched down to grab it, opening the piece of paper. Eyes gazing through all of the words that she had put into it. The earlier draft of the letter she gave to him. The earlier draft of the over-simplified letter because her feelings for him are too big that a piece of paper could not retain to contain all of it. “But I guess I am too.”

***

It was during New Year’s Eve when the two found themselves by each other's side again. Sure there are countless times when they were set together and saw each other almost every day, but both had never got the chance to truly be alone with no one else around but them.

The two never spoke about what happened that night. About what he had uttered whether he really meant it or not. She never found the answer to it. But her feelings remain the same. Couldn’t be changed. Not even if she tried. And she still writes him letters although Nanami did note that the amount of passage in it had lessened within each letter that she gave him.

“How was your day?” He asked, suddenly. Startling her who was busying herself by focusing on the many other things around her instead of the person that holds the key to her heart.

They both are currently walking down the road with people rushing around them, eager to embrace the year that awaits ahead of them all. And yet there’s her and Nanami, who walk slowly, not wanting to let go of the year that would change within hours. Carrying the burden of knowing the secrets that are hidden from those innocent eyes was never a simple job. It was hard, maddening it could be. That’s why it’s easier for her to focus all of her mind on the person beside her rather than that.

They are going to graduate soon and she had a feeling that Nanami would want to let go of all of his ties with the world they both are familiar with, including hers. That thought didn’t really sit well inside her mind. Perhaps that’s why she wasn’t really sure how to answer his simple question.

Glancing at him, she let out a long sigh. “Well, I was with you the whole day. So the same as yours?” She wondered at the end of her sentence. “The year would change within hours. I guess that counts as something worth anticipating for.” She then proceeds to talk about some other things that had occurred to her a few days back before stopping in her tracks when she realizes that she has been talking with nothing but the empty presence of Nanami beside her.

Turning her head around, she found him a few feet away from her. The two pairs of eyes instantly connected to each other as more people kept rushing around them. She looked at him almost innocently, tilting her head to the side slightly with her furrowed eyebrows. And he spent the same moment thinking of what a privilege it was to be there with her. She could’ve chosen anyone. And yet, she was already captivated with him since the first time their eyes landed on each other.

“Is everything okay?” The question rolled out of her mouth.

“Do you want to see the fireworks together?” At the same time, this comes out of him.

***

Then there they are. Standing next to each other, leaning forward on the railing with anticipating looks on their faces as the two gazes at the sky above them. She had her arms propped on top of the railing as she put her chin on top of it. A smile on her face. “You sure really do know how to pick a spot, Kento.” She commented.

The boy beside her just hummed at the comment she made. Eyeing her smile with warmness in his eyes despite the coldness of the night air. Then he gazed down at the festival that could be seen from their spot. The sounds of people chanting began louder and louder at midnight and kept getting closer. “We’re going to graduate soon.” She said, not tearing her eyes away from the dark sky that would be colored within seconds. “I want nothing more but to spend what possibly is the last New Year’s Eve I’ll spend together with you at this moment. Thanks for the invitation, Kento.”

“You know, don’t you?” He asked but did not give her a chance to answer it. “That I’m going to leave.” She went quiet, the sad smile on her face had explained the truth to him, so he continued his words. “After all of that had happened this past year, I found nothing but pain in what we do. I guess quitting all of these could help lessen the pain. At least that’s what I hope.”

No longer propping her arms against the railing, her hands gripped it instead, her thumb softly brushing over the top of her palm. Her eyes gaze downwards to the festival. “The pain won’t go away. We’ve been through the same journey. I know what you feel.” She turned to look him in the eyes. “If quitting would help your pain then that’s your decision, Kento. There is no need to feel sorry. I’ve found ways to lessen my pain too. In the presence of those whom I love. You too, don’t you? That’s why you brought me here.”

Then color erupted in the air. The night was a gloomy dark canvas and those fireworks are the paint that is tasked to brighten it just for a brief moment. A celebration. A light of reassurance that the year that had yet to come would be as bright as the night during its first day. She had averted her gaze away to admire the colors. A smile appeared on her face.

“Happy New Year, Nanami Kento.” She said, gently.

He copied her words. Saying her name at the end of his sentence, making her smile wider just by hearing it. “It’s beautiful.” He commented out loud, eyeing the colors in the sky.

“What? The moon?” She asked him with one of her eyebrows raised in a cheeky manner. Referencing the night where he had said those words that she still did not know the meaning of. Nanami quite literally gaped at her words, not expecting her to bring that up after that quick heartfelt conversation between them. Then a burst of laughter comes out of her. “I’m just joking. Don’t need to look so embarrassed like that. You’re making my heart pound with that expression of yours.”

The two shared laughs that night. Despite all of the pains that they both had gone through. Because she was right, Nanami did find another way to lessen the pain that he held. That is by being beside the person whom he feels dearly about.

***

It was not until their graduation night that they both spent the night together by each other’s side once more. This time for the last time before he cuts all of the ties that bind him with this world. It was quite somber, the mood that night. But there were still fragments of comforting feelings in it.

“Kento, promise me,” She said, holding up her pinky finger to him, a red hue covering some part of her face as she looked him right in the eyes. “Fall in love with me.” That ended up sounding more like a demand than a wish. “In the future, if we ever meet again.......outside or inside of this wretched world we know, that is hidden from those mundane people. If you ever opened your heart to someone. Let it be me.”

Not getting any response, she let herself turn her head away without lowering her hand, feeling embarrassment kicking into her. The world around her was holding her to the ground as reality came back to her. The reality. A finger wrapped itself around her. “There is no reassurance on when the future would come. So must it be in the future?” He asked. And she could swear that her heart beats thrice faster as the words come out of his mouth.

“But then again, we’ll be much ready by then. I’m still new to this kind of stuff and I know that you are too. We will understand this more in the future, right? The feeling that has been in your heart for such a long time. The feeling that has been on my heart for quite some time if not as long as you.” He said those words with so much sincerity. The words that come straight out of his heart with nothing interfering between them.

Is this the reality that she had dreamed of her whole life? Did the Nanami Kento just indirectly confess his feelings to her? If the reality of her life would be this sweet then she wished to not ever sleep ever again. Then she wished to stay at that moment forever as the words he just said kept replaying in her mind. “You’ll keep it too, right? The promise?” He said again, trying to take a glimpse of her face as she looked down at her lap—the side of her face was hidden by her hair.

Then he heard a sniffle come out of her, followed by the drop of tears down to her lap. Brushing the hair out of her face, he leaned down and took a more clear look at her face. “I asked you a question then you cried about it. That’s not how it works, you know.” His hand went to the side of her face, wiping the tears away from her glassy eyes.

She choked back a strained laugh before wrapping her arms around his neck. Brings him to her embrace. His hands instantly latched around her waist. Securing the comfort that both radiated in the cold of the night. “You just have to choose the moment before we separate to say that, huh? That isn’t fair.” She complained, leaning her forehead on his shoulder as the tears streamed down her face, staining his blue shirt.

He leaned back to hold her face with one of his hands while the others were still holding her by the waist. “Didn’t we just make a promise?” He asked softly. Her hand slowly wrapped itself around the one that holds her face, her fingers falling naturally in between his fingers. Before she turned her head, enough to kiss the inner of his palm, gaining a soft gasp from him.

He found himself eyeing the plump of her lips that was touching his skin. And then to her eyes that look at him as if he were the most mesmerizing being in this world. Nothing but love and affection are filled in it. His gaze mirrored hers, looking at her the same way as she did to him.

Then he turned the hands that were holding her face around, intertwining their fingers before bringing them close to his mouth, bringing her close too as he did so. A soft kiss pressed against the top of her palm while his eyes didn’t lose the connection they had with hers. Her mouth opened a bit as if she were about to say something.

“Don’t say it.” He said. “Let those words stay in your heart until we meet again.”

She nodded softly, a sad smile on her face. “I’ll keep my promise too, Kento.” She paused before leaning her head closer as she whispered to his ear. “Until we meet again.”

Arms wrapped around one another. There was peace in between the goodbyes that were uttered. The string of hope shimmered in the dark, unseen by the eyes of the two clueless people. The reassurance of the future that might just exist if they hold onto their promise.

***

Then so it goes. Time flew with them not being on each other’s side. Each day, separated by the different paths of the life that they took. Living the life that they had chosen. Years passed and yet their hearts still yearn for the other’s presence. Sometimes it’s hard to ignore the urge to when you know where they are. But both respected each other’s decision so much that they stayed out of the other’s life. Letting fate choose the moment where their path would cross one another.

And sometimes, during New Year’s Eve, when not busy, she would go to the place where they had once spent the night together. With a slight hope of him being at the same place. But alas her wish was never granted as she looks up to the sky with the reflection of colors in her eyes. Then she would close them, pretending that his presence was beside her. Her hands press a letter to the place where her heart beats against her ribcage.

I missed you.

A quick silent prayer was made before she left the scene. Now she is going for her first appointed mission in this new year. Hence the reason why she wrote a letter for such a long time.

***

Being dragged around by her white-haired senior was not how she wanted to spend the day off after her long exhausting mission. But what else could she do but let him do what he wanted? There is no way to go against what Gojo Satoru wants after all.

“You’re going to love this.” He said. The white-haired man was practically skipping through the hallway, tangling his left arm with her right—not exactly touching since he has his infinity on—dragging her around the school area. Her? Well, she just let him do it, not having much energy left from her last mission. “Ah, I can already imagine the look on his face when he sees you. You really missed a lot of things since your mission.”

He? The word caught her interest as the two slowed down a little bit, she untangled her arm from his, now standing in front of him, stopping him in his tracks as she did so. “I don’t have time for your silly games, Gojo-san. Whatever is this, better make it quick.” She let out a small yawn, stretching her arms upwards. “You do realize that I just got back from my mission. I need to rest.”

Gojo’s gaze falls onto something behind her, a mischievous yet proud look comes up on his face. Whatever it was he was looking at, she wasn’t sure if she was going to like it or not. “Hehe. You’re going to thank me later.” He then waved his arms around at something-or perhaps in this case someone behind her.

Then the voice of Itadori Yuuji could be heard in her ears as he got closer to the two. She had the chance to meet the boy who had the unfortunate fate of being Sukuna’s vessel. But that was not what made her straighten her pose, it was his words. Or to be more specific, the name he had uttered. Her back was still turned against them, her view being Gojo who raised his eyebrows at her.

“Nanamin-san, how long has it been since you came here? Has it always looked like this? I wonder if it ever changed since your school days.” Nanamin. Now that is a name she hears now and then, thrown around by Gojo Satoru to tease her. But the presence of the person was one that she hadn’t felt for quite a long time.

Her eyes finally found Gojo’s who was giving her a knowing look, smirking at the red hue that began to appear on her cheeks. He puts his hands on top of her shoulder, turning her around as his eyes then fall back onto his student and his tall blonde junior. “Yo Nanamin. Yuuji.” He approached the two of them. An arm wrapped around the shoulder of his junior who was looking at the ground.

The two stopped in their tracks as Gojo and her walked closer to them. Nanami's gaze practically latches onto her instantly, quite obvious for someone who rarely shows a fragment of their feelings. “Ah Sensei, are you two going somewhere? Nanamin-san right here was about to tell me about his school days.” Yuuji pointed at the older guy beside him, an innocent grin plastered on his face.

“Is that so, Nanamin?” Gojo teased him with the nickname Itadori had given him. “I didn’t say anything.” He replied almost too quickly.

Leaning forward to his student, Gojo spoke with a smirk on his face. “You know, Yuuji. Nanamin’s school days were very very interesting.” He wiggled his eyebrows, glancing at her who narrowed her eyes at him. “Actually, your other sensei here was friends with him. Really close friends. Right, Nanamin?”

She could feel his eyes going back and forth between her and Gojo before he uttered his answer. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” He asked expressionlessly, but she could still detect the annoyed tone hidden beneath it.

Gojo’s smirk went even wider that it stretched all over his cheek. “Ahh, sadly you’re right. And as much as I want to stay here to watch. I do have somewhere else to go and I need Yuuji with me.”

“You do?” The boy wondered out loud.

“Yes, I do. Now come come. Let’s leave my two beloved juniors to reunite.” He went up to the boy and dragged him away. His voice echoed out loud in the hallway until eventually, it went quiet when he was far enough.

And that leaves the two alone. But together. With all of the words that are threatening to go out of their hearts. Words that both had yet to have the time to express with one another. She inhaled sharply before letting her eyes meet his. For a split second, it did before she avoided his sharp gaze again. Somehow she suddenly found it hard to say anything to him during this moment even though her mind was practically screaming at her to speak.

“It’s been a while.” He said, making her head snap to look at him once more, this time not breaking their gaze. His voice itself is still strong enough to weaken her knees. The power this man held over her over the years is crazy. “How have you been?” He asked.

She let out a breathy chuckle, a smile on her face. “I’m great.” Then she paused for a bit, considering what to say before she continued. “Well not really cause you know, this was actually supposed to be my day off and I was going to rest after my long mission which probably you had heard about from the others. But other than that, I’m doing fine. You?” She looked at him expectantly.

The tension on his shoulders was already gone by the time she finished her sentence. His eyebrows, however, were furrowed at the mention of the fact that today was supposed to be her day off. “You should stop letting others drag you around when you’re supposed to rest.”

Her eyes brightened up at his words. “Ah, you’ve always been the you-have-to-rest-or-else person. When asked a question, you should come up with an answer instead of a scold, Kento.” She said, but then stopped when she realized she just called him by his first name after all of the times they have spent apart from each other. “Is it okay if I call you with-”

“Why would I mind? You can call me anything you want and I would still let you every single time.” His comment made her go quiet. Her cheeks flushed at his warm words as she averted her gaze away from him. This gave him a chance to actually take in her appearance.

“You changed your hair.” He commented once more.

“Do you not like it?” She wondered, raising her eyebrows. Hand unconsciously inching towards the end of her hair.

“No. No. I think it suits you.”

She smiled while nodding her head, then looked at him. “I like your hair too. It has changed a lot since the last time we met.” Her eyes gaze on every inch of his face. Years that they spent not being together surely had changed him a lot in terms of appearances. If anything, age just brings more attractiveness to him. “I like it a lot. I can see more of you now.” She said.

He chuckled. And if she didn’t know him that well, she wouldn’t say that he was shy at the moment. But she does know him so well and Nanami Kento was indeed shy as the corner of his mouth slightly turned upwards. “You really should get a rest right now.” He said.

“You’re right.” She said, not averting her gaze away from him. Her eyes twinkled in amusement as a suggestion came into her mind. “Do you want to.........?” She gestured over her shoulders.

Then, naturally, he falls into the steps beside her as they both walk towards her room. Usually, she wouldn’t stay at the school’s grounds, but since she was too tired to go back to her apartment unit that is quite far from the school, she stayed in her old room. Besides, she had to send the reports to Yaga this morning, hence the reason why Gojo found her lurking around and decided to drag her to Nanami.

Then she cut him off before he could speak a word. “You don’t have to answer unless you want to.” Then no one spoke. Silence once again engulfed the two of them. She steps a bit farther to her right, creating a bigger space between them.

“How was your previous job?” I love you.

“How was your mission?” I love you.

The two stopped in their tracks, looking at each other as the words came out of their mouths simultaneously. Then she smiled, the smile that he has been yearning for years. Oh, how he missed seeing that smile. Clearing his throat, he finally speaks. “It was repetitive. Every day feels like the same day. The cycle of 24 hours keeps repeating itself. All the same routines.”

She smiled but not quite reached her eyes. “Sounds like the perfect environment for you. Salesman, right? Gojo-san told me.” Her eyes are downcasted to the ground before she looks up back at him once more. “The mission was a success, by the way. It took a while, draining a lot of energy, but I managed to complete it in the end.” She said, continuing their walk.

He stepped closer to her, closing the gap that she had created earlier. His eyes roamed to her body, scanning for any injuries that are yet to be healed. Then it landed on her bruised hand, the one that is brushing against his hand. She noticed this. “I’m okay. You don’t need to worry. I went to Shoko-san right after I got back yesterday. Nothing too severe or something like that.” She informed, before looking back to the front, trying to ignore the fact that she could feel the palm of his hand brushing against hers.

Then a hand landed on her shoulders, grasping them gently, stopping her from walking farther than him. Back to reality, she was. Noticing that they were already in front of her room. Seems that she spent too much time trying to focus her mind on anything else other than him, that she was zoning out a bit longer than she intended to.

She turned her body to gaze up at him and there he was already looking down at her. His hand still hovering above her shoulder as if he were trying to do something else, hesitantly. Her eyes flicker onto his lips for a split second before she quickly averted her eyes back to his eyes. “I guess, I’ll see you around?” The words come out of her mouth involuntarily. Betraying the one that is spoken in her mind.

Maybe it is just her feelings or maybe Nanami’s shoulders sank at the words that she uttered. A disappointed look took over his face for a moment as he took a step away from her, putting a distance between them. Just like she did earlier.

It’s been years. There’s no way he is still holding onto that promise, she thought.

Maybe she doesn’t feel the same anymore, he thought.

Putting a smile on her face, she looked down to the ground and when she looked back up, he noticed that it wasn’t her usual smile for it did not reach her eyes. “It’s nice to meet you again, Kento.” She speaks. And if Nanami could choose to only hear one thing in his life. It would be her voice that he chooses out of all of the choices there are in the world.

Then he was no longer looking at her. He was looking at the dark brown color of her door that she closed after he uttered the same words as her. What about the promise? He wondered. His eyes lowered to the ground, wishing to see a glimpse of her shadow from the gap between the door and the floor. I already understand my feelings now. Those feelings that reside in my heart for so long. They only grow even bigger without your presence.

Beat.

The sound of a door opening.

Beat.

“I love you.” He said out loud.

A sharp gasp could be heard. Eyes widened and there she was in front of him again. Mouth agape. A letter pressed on top of the place where her heart beats thrice faster against her ribcage. Their eyes connected to one another. A chuckle comes out of her mouth, followed by a laugh. A happy one.

She leaped if not maybe she jumped. But it doesn’t matter because his arms instantly latched around her waist, catching her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Laughter echoed, vibrating against his skin. He did not realize it but he was laughing too. The Nanami Kento. Laughing. Surely that is a sight to see. She had heard him laugh before, but never this happy.

Her feet no longer touch the floor as he lifts her a few inches off the ground. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Nanami Kento. And I love being in love with you.” She said, pulling back to look into his eyes. The letter has been discarded on the floor, no longer needed as the content has been said out loud and not written on a piece of paper anymore.

It was as if at that moment, they both had become younger. Becoming the two silly teenagers they were. Except, she wasn't the only one to be in love. “It never changed. Not even a bit.” She leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes, a wide smile on her face.

“Thank you,” A hand gripped her chin softly. “For waiting for me.” Just like that, the gap between them disappeared as he leaned his lips forwards.

It was a profound love. A burst of ecstasy in the dim light of the hallway. It’s a risky move, to be in love with someone. Even a bigger risk to take in the world that they are living in. But it’s a risk that they are willing to take. Because nothing could ever separate them again. Love is an absurd and the most unexplainable feeling that you could ever feel. You don’t ask to be in love. You don’t know when to be in love. And yet when it happened, it just did. Most of the time, it’ll hurt you. And it would be the most pleasing pain that you would ever feel. Cause even though it hurts. It’ll stay as love. And when two people fell in love with one another. The stars will shine brighter than they did before. The world around them would celebrate the unity of the two souls. The line of threads would tangle with one another and never once separate ever again. For eternity.

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